"I didn't kill her!" Sofia cried. Her throat hurt, and her eyes were swollen from too many tears. "Please—you have to believe me!"
The guards didn't answer. Their hands gripped her arms like iron, dragging her down the hall.
The hallway was long and narrow. Water dripped from the stone walls. The floor smelled of mold and old blood. Shadows followed them like dark ghosts.
Sofia's heart pounded hard. Fear filled her chest as they pulled her deeper into the dungeon. She had heard stories. People were locked away down here and never came back.
"No…" she whispered, shaking her head. "No, please…" But the guards ignored her.
At the end of the hall stood a heavy iron door. One guard shoved it open. The hinges squealed, and the smell hit Sofia—wet straw, mildew, and rust.
They dragged her inside. A weak bulb flickered above, throwing shaky light on the walls. And then she saw it.
The water cage.
It was small. The bars were bent low, only high enough for a crouch. Inside was dark, murky water. It rippled as the guards kicked the hatch open.
Sofia's breath caught. "No, please don't! I didn't do it!"
One guard finally spoke. His voice was flat and cold. "Sir Damien's order."
They shoved her forward. She stumbled, her body hitting the bars. Freezing water rushed around her legs, soaking her dress. She gasped. They pushed harder, forcing her down. The water climbed to her waist. Then her chest. Then her neck.
The cage door slammed shut with a loud clang. The lock snapped into place.
"She won't last the night," one guard muttered.
"That's not our problem," the other said. "Orders are orders."
"No!" Sofia screamed. Her frozen fingers clutched the bars. "Don't leave me here!"
But the guards turned and walked away, their boots echoing down the corridor until only silence remained.
The water stopped at her chin. The cage was too small to stand, too low to stretch in. Her knees scraped the iron floor as she crouched, shivering violently. If she slipped, if her strength gave out, she would drown like an animal.
Her fingers gripped the rusted bars, but they were slick with slime, her grip sliding again and again.
Tears streamed down her cheeks, hot against the freezing water. Her lips trembled as she whispered into the shadows, "Why? Why me? Why is this happening to me?"
She squeezed her eyes shut. "This is a nightmare, Sofia. Wake up. Wake up."
But when she opened them again, nothing had changed. The cage was still there. The water was still there. The cold was still eating her alive. This was no dream. This was her reality.
Her chest tightened as her thoughts drifted back to the life she thought she still had. In two weeks, she would turn twenty. She had told herself that after her final exams, she would leave this place. Leave this pack. She would go far, start a new life where no one called her spare or laughed at her weight, where no one looked at her with disgust.
She had dreamed of freedom. Of a new life.
Of finding a small home of her own.
Of waking up without fear of her mother's scorn.
Of walking in the woods without hearing Lola's mocking voice.
Of living a life where she could finally breathe.
But now… that dream was gone.
Only Death was waiting for her here, and she knew it.
An hour later, Sofia's chest began to tighten until it felt like she couldn't breathe at all. Her lungs screamed for air. She gasped, but every breath came in short, broken sobs.
Her body shook violently, panic crawling up her throat like a rope strangling her.
"I can't…" she whispered, her hands scraping the slick bars. "I can't breathe…"
Her mind flashed back to a memory—she had been younger, maybe thirteen, when her chest had locked up just like this. She remembered collapsing in the training field, shaking, gasping for air as the world spun. She remembered Damien kneeling beside her, his hands on her shoulders, his voice comforting… his green, alluring eyes fixed on her.
"Look at me, Sofia. Take a deep breath. In… now let it out. Again. You can do this."
The memory made her chest ache even worse, but she forced herself to try.
"In…" she whispered, sucking in a shaky breath through her nose. "Out…" she exhaled, though her whole body still trembled. Again and again she did it, the way he once told her to, until she could at least keep her head above the icy water.
Her teeth chattered, her breath coming ragged, but she stayed alive.
Then suddenly she froze. She heard something… footsteps. Heavy, steady, echoing down the corridor.
The screech of iron filled the air as the cage door unlocked and swung open. Strong hands grabbed her by the arms and hauled her up. Water splashed around her, pouring off her clothes as she was dragged out of the cage.
Her knees buckled, her legs weak from the cold. She stumbled, but the guards didn't slow down.
"Where… where are you taking me?" Sofia whispered hoarsely, fear gripping her.
The guards did not answer. They only dragged her faster through the corridor, up the long stone steps, and out of the dungeon's darkness.
Light hit her eyes, too bright after the darkness she had witnessed. She blinked, her heart pounding, until she realized where they had taken her.
The packhouse.
And further, into the pack hall.
The doors swung open, and Sofia's breath caught.
Everyone was there. Elders, warriors, omegas, all gathered. Their voices fell silent as they turned to look at her.
Their stares were sharp, heavy with judgment.
Sofia shivered in her wet, clinging dress, the dungeon water dripping onto the polished floor. Her heart sank as she realized this was judgment.
The guards dragged her forward until she reached the front of the hall and was hurled to the floor. To her horror, her parents stood there. Her mother sobbed in her father's arms, her pretty yellow designer dress stained with Lola's blood.
Sofia shook her head, her lips quivering, her wide eyes darting desperately through the crowd—elders leaning forward with hard eyes, warriors whispering behind their hands, omegas shifting uneasily as if afraid to be seen staring at her. How could her judgment be happening so soon? Barely two hours had passed since the incident —why were they judging her already?
Her mother sobbed in her father's arms. "How could you, Sofia? My baby… my Lola…"
Sofia's lips trembled, fresh tears sliding down her cheeks. "Mother, no, please! You know me! I would never—"
Then, a sudden, sharp creak of the entrance doors silenced the room.
Everyone stood up.
Alpha Morrison, Damien's father, walked in. His presence filled the room instantly, commanding respect without a word. His broad shoulders were set stiff, his face carved in stone, and his eyes dark as night.
Behind him came Damien.
Sofia's heart lurched at the sight of him.
He hadn't changed his clothing. His shirt was still stained with Lola's blood, the red standing out against the white fabric like fresh wounds. His face was pale, his jaw tight, his green eyes drowned in sorrow. He walked stiffly, like each step cost him.
And when those eyes finally lifted and met hers, there was no softness left. No trace of the boy who once told her to breathe.
Only anger.
Only grief.
Only hate.
Sofia's breath caught, her throat burning.
Alpha Morrison's voice boomed across the hall, making her flinch.
"Bring her forward. The judgment begins now."
The guards grabbed her arms and forced her to her knees.
Her lips trembled. She lifted her head slowly, staring at the Alpha. "Please, Alpha," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I'm innocent. I didn't push her—I swear, I didn't! Lola and I… we argued, yes, but then she—she slipped—"
"Silence."
Alpha Morrison's furious voice vibrated through the hall. His angry eyes fixed on her.
"You dare to kneel before me and lie?" His words thundered, echoing off the walls. "You think you can twist the truth when evidence has already been found?"
Sofia's breath caught. Her body went cold, colder than the dungeon water that had nearly drowned her.
Evidence?
Her wide eyes darted from face to face in the crowd, her heart pounding loudly.
"What…what evidence?" she whispered, fear choking her voice.