Chapter 11

  (Break free)

  Kane

  The stone walls of the cell seemed to pulse with the rhythm of Celeste’s heartbeat. Every time she heard the heavy, metallic clatter of armor in the hallway or the distant, sharp bark of a command, her fur bristled.

  "Kane, something is wrong," Celeste whispered, her voice low and dangerous. "That wasn’t the sound of a guard shift. That was the sound of a deployment."

  She closed her eyes, and her mind raced. She thought of Alexandra—fragile, grieving, and now surrounded by wolves who had spent their lives serving a tyrant. A sudden, overwhelming surge of protective instinct flared in her chest. She didn't see the bars; she saw a trap closing around the princess. She didn't see her own confinement as a punishment, but as a distraction.

  "They're going to kill her," Celeste growled, her muscles coiling. "Someone has been staging a coup while we’re locked in here. He’s going to eliminate the only Royal left who has a heart."

  "Celeste, wait—" Kane started, but it was too late.

  Celeste didn't use a key. She channeled the raw, restless energy of her rogue upbringing. With a snarl, she threw her weight against the rusted hinge of the door, the metal screaming under the force of her inherited strength. The stone around the socket crumbled, and the door swung open with a violent crash.

  She didn't stop to explain. She bolted past the stunned guards in the hallway, her tan-and-coffee fur a blur of motion. Her mind was a whirlwind of images: Alexandra alone, Alexandra being cornered, Alexandra needing the protection of the only sister she had left.

  She reached the war room doors and didn't knock. She burst through them, her claws skidding on the polished floor, her chest heaving.

  "Alexandra! Get away from him!" Celeste yelled, her eyes wild as she looked for the assassins she was sure were surrounding the princess. "I'm here! Don't let them—"

  The words died in her throat.

  The room was silent. There were no drawn blades. No assassins. Alexandra sat at the head of the table, looking every bit the Queen her mother had been. She didn't look like a victim; she looked like an executioner. Beside her stood Onyx, his arms crossed, a look of calm, smug satisfaction on his face. Her face fell almost immediately.

  “What..?” Celeste breathed out, tired from running but not panting, her heart dropped, getting the familiar case of deja vu, and not in a good way.

  Alexandra didn't rush to Celeste. She didn't look relieved. She slowly stood up, her blue eyes colder than the mountain ice.

  "See?" Onyx whispered just loud enough for Celeste to hear. "The rouge breaks her cage the moment she thinks the 'plan' is failing. She didn't come to save you, my Queen. She came to see if the palace was ripe for the taking."

  "Wha-? What plan? Alexandra, no," Celeste stammered, her protective stance suddenly feeling foolish and aggressive. "I thought... I heard the guards... I thought they were hurting you."

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  "The only people causing violence in this castle, Celeste, are you and your brother," Alexandra said, her voice steady and devoid of warmth. Celeste’s ears pinned to her head as she flinched back at her words, falling into a crouch. "You broke a Royal seal. You attacked my guards. You proved everything Onyx said about your 'protective' nature was just a cover for your volatility."

  Celeste looked around the room. The guards weren't pointing their spears at Alexandra. They were pointing them at her. The "coup" she had rushed to stop wasn't happening to Alexandra—it was being led by her, fueled by the very fear Celeste had just confirmed.

  "Alex, please," Celeste reached out a paw, but the guards stepped forward, their spears lowered.

  “That’s not my name” She sneered, looking down at Celeste from her tall throne-like chair in the war room.

  “What? Fine Alexandra please..!” Celeste practically begged.

  Alexandra’s face shifted slightly, forming slight doubtfulness before Onyx leaned over. “Don’t let her get into your head, my queen.” He whispered into her ear as Celeste’s face dropped in horror.

  “Don’t listen to whatever he's saying!”

  "Take her back," Alexandra ordered, cutting her off and turning her back on Celeste to look at the map once more. "And this time, use the special chains. It seems the 'heart of the pack' has teeth she can't control."

  The walk back to the dungeons was no longer a march of soldiers; it was a funeral procession for a friendship. The "heavy chains" were ancient things, forged of dense, cold iron and etched with runes meant to dampen the spirit of even the strongest wolf. The chains only one wolf knew of and left it for her heir. They clattered with every step Celeste took, a rhythmic, metallic heartbeat that announced her shame to every guard in the corridor.

  The weight was more than physical. Every link felt like a lie Onyx had told, pressing down on Celeste’s spine, forcing her head low. She, who had always run free in the forest, felt the suffocating reality of the castle walls for the first time. The iron bit into her wrists, chafing her fur and leaving the metallic tang of blood in the air, but the sting in her heart was sharper.

  She looked at me like I was a monster, Celeste thought, her vision blurring. I would have died for her, and she looked at me like I was the dirt beneath her mother’s paws. Celeste’s jaw clenched with anger and pain, clear betrayal flashing across her face.

  When they reached the cell, the head guard shoved Celeste inside. She stumbled, the weight of the chains bringing her to her knees with a loud, metallic crash. She glared at the guard, standing up weakly.

  "Where is the other one?" the guard barked, his voice echoing in the small chamber.

  Celeste’s head snapped up. Her eyes darted to the corner where she had left Kane. The cell was empty. The straw on the floor hadn't even been disturbed.

  "Kane?" she whispered, her heart skipping a beat, her heart filled with hope.

  The guard stepped into the cell, his spear held low. "Don't play games, rouge. Where did the Prince go? There are no windows, and the door was locked from the outside!"

  Celeste looked around the small room. She realized now that while she had been blinded by her instinct to run and protect Alexandra, Kane had been quiet. He hadn't tried to stop her. He had seen the distraction for what it was—a chance.

  "He's gone," Celeste said, a small, hysterical laugh bubbling up in her throat despite the situation. "He’s gone and you didn't even notice." She threw her head back when laughing weakly, her chains only binding her movements and not her voice.

  The guards panicked, shouting for reinforcements.

  “Send search parties, the prince- prisoner escaped!” The guard stammered, as if unsure how to address him. Alexandra’s eyes narrowed into slits, her face hardening in a familiar way that made Celeste’s skin crawl.

  The guards filed out in a panic, searching throughout the halls. Eyes glancing down each corridor.

  The news spread through the halls like a wildfire: The Prince has vanished.

  End of chapter 11