Chapter 60: Alexander Came
Chapter 60: Alexander Came
(Celeste’s POV)
The searing, relentless burn of the wolfsbane–laced ropes dragged me back into
consciousness.
Pain engulfed my silver–scarred skin, jolting every nerve awake with vicious intensity.
The ancient symbols etched into the bindings pulsed with a sickly green glow, their magic seeping deeper into my flesh with each passing moment.
I bit back a whimper, refusing to give my captors the satisfaction of hearing my struggle. Four years in Moon Shadow Prison had taught me how to swallow pain, to turn it into fuel rather
than surrender to it.
The sharp scent of damp wood and the smoky residue of a dying fire filled my nostrils. Beneath that, I caught the faint metallic tang of old blood–probably Nina’s.
My chest tightened at the memory of her crumpled form. Every breath felt like dragging shards of glass through my lungs, but I forced myself to focus, to assess my surroundings
through other senses.
Beyond my own agony, fragments of muffled voices danced in the air. Two distinct auras, dominant yet sloppy, hovered close–mercenaries, arrogant and overconfident in their success.
Their wolves‘ energies reeked of moon–blessed wine and premature celebration.
“Smartest job I’ve ever taken,” one of them muttered, his words laced with self–satisfaction.
His heavy boots creaked against the uneven wood floors as he paced. “Clean execution, no
complications.”
The other laughed darkly, the sound echoing off the walls of what I assumed was some abandoned cabin. “No blood, easy cash–and we’re out by morning. Easier than taking candy from a pup.”
“I
‘Just keep her here till morning,” the second one added with another laugh, this one looser,
more alcohol–fueled. “Then let her go and collect our p*****t. Simple as that.”
There was a pause, followed by the sound of liquid being poured. More moon–blessed wine, no
doubt. Their overconfidence was becoming their weakness.
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Chapter 60: Alexander Came
“There’s always something off about deals involving Marcus Blackwood, though.” The first mercenary hesitated, the edge of nervousness creeping into his tone. “You feel it? Like… this shouldn’t be this simple.”
My wolf stirred at the mention of Marcus’s name, a low growl building in my chest that I quickly suppressed. Of course he was involved. The question was–how deeply?
“Relax,” the other replied, confidence dripping from his slurred words. “You think those royals care about some fallen Luna? Whoever paid for this, paid to sabotage Blackwood’s ceremony. That’s it. One missed mating ritual, contract fulfilled, and we get rich.”
The clink of glass against wood echoed through the space. They were drinking heavily now, their guards dropping with each pour of wine.
My muscles twitched with readiness despite the dull ache coursing through my body. I could feel my wolf stirring, whispering resistance into my bleeding thoughts.
My captors may have roped me, drugged me, weakened me–but prison taught me resilience.
Moon Shadow Prison didn’t break me. This wouldn’t either.
My breathing steadied as I focused, tuning out the ache digging into the ridges of my wrists.
The ropes, infused with ancient wolfsbane magic, burned constantly into my skin, but they
lacked the vicious sharpness of silver chains.
My wolf whimpered faintly within, subdued by the poisonous plant woven into the fibers.
But we’d endured worse, hadn’t we? Four years of silver, betrayal, and solitude. This pain was
nothing compared to that.
I calmed my breaths into slow, deliberate rhythms, even as their drunken giggles clawed at my composure. My mind cleared, sharpening like a blade being honed.
Escape wasn’t just a chance–it was necessary. For Eleanor, who painstakingly fought for my
freedom. For Nina, likely injured trying to protect me. Hell, even for myself.
No more waiting.
The heat of the ropes grew sharper as I started moving my wrists. The friction between skin and binding sent fire through my nerves, but I remembered Eleanor’s frail hands gripping mine, her golden eyes fierce with determination as she promised to get me out of prison.
I wouldn’t waste her sacrifice.
I clenched my jaw, doing everything I could to stay silent as I worked. The mercenaries poured
themselves another drink, their wolves‘ auras growing increasingly unfocused.
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Chapter 60: Alexander Came
They were oblivious to my soft muffled grunts as I carefully maneuvered my arms.
The wood they tied me against groaned under my weight as I shifted. Slow. Precise. My hands twisted until I felt the raw edges of the rope bite deeper against my skin.
Blood pooled where the fibers dug into open flesh. The wolfsbane only made it ten times
worse, seeping into the open wounds to amplify the sting.
Tears pricked at my eyes, but I blinked them away furiously. Pain meant I was alive. Pain
meant I could fight.
Moon Shadow Prison taught me this. Pain was fuel. Weak wolves surrendered to it; strong
wolves wielded it.
One more twist–a muffled snap sounded in my wrist as I forced it past the biting friction of
the rope. A sharp cry almost escaped me as my arm wrenched unnaturally.
My wrist bent at an angle it shouldn’t, and I could barely hold it steady as white–hot agony nearly blinded me.
But it worked. One hand was free.
Blood dripped from my swollen fingers, trailing down my arm in warm rivulets. I bit my lip hard
enough to draw blood, trying to focus through the pain.
Dark spots danced across my vision, but I forced them back through sheer will.
Another clink of their glasses reached my ears. Their drunken laughter grew louder, more
careless. They were celebrating too early, too confident in their success.
I didn’t rest–couldn’t afford to. My remaining hand was still bound, the aching knot coarse
against fresh wounds.
Dropping to the uneven floor on shaking knees, careful to stay silent, I tugged at the ropes
firmly wrapped around my ankles.
The fibers resisted, but their sloppiness was my advantage. They hadn’t tied me to hold
someone who’d learned to slip out of restraints even with her bones screaming in protest.
Twisting awkwardly, I loosened the bindings on my feet. Whether it was adrenaline or sheer desperation, the pain felt lighter under the weight of my resolve.
The moment the restraints loosened completely, my body folded to the floor, heavy and
trembling. But there was no time to stop–not when survival hung by the fraying threads of my
will.
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Chapter 60: Alexander Came
My body shook as I rose unsteadily to my feet, every muscle protesting the movement. Bile
crept up my throat, fueled by the nauseating mix of blood loss, wolfsbane burns, and adrenaline coursing through my veins. Yet my wolf pushed me forward, weakly nudging me to
move.
The cabin door stood just a few feet away, a rectangle of deeper darkness in the dim light.
Freedom was close, close enough to taste.
Stumbling quietly toward the exit, I focused on moving one trembling foot after the other. My
heartbeat thundered in my ears, each step matching its frantic rhythm.
The voices behind me had faded into drunken laughs and poorly sung verses of some bawdy
wolf tune.
Closer. Closer.
My fingers brushed over the rough wood of the doorframe. I allowed myself one shallow
breath, steadying my wolf’s panicked whimper.
Then I turned the handle and opened the door.
And slammed directly into a broad chest.
I staggered back, my injured wrist screaming in protest. Ice–blue eyes, glowing faintly even in
the dark, locked onto mine with searing intensity.
My breaths froze completely, my wolf unable to process what our instincts screamed:
Alexander.
Disheveled, his dark hair clung with sweat at his temple.
His entire figure radiated barely contained rage, cloaked in the familiar dominance of his white
wolf.
Blood–not his own–stained his clothes in dark patches.
His icy gaze traveled over me, taking in every bloody, broken inch of my body. The rope burns. The twisted wrist. The determination that had kept me moving despite it all.
“Celeste.”
The sound of my name, thick with fury and something terrifyingly close to desperation, was the last thing I heard before my trembling legs collapsed under me.
The world tilted sharply, but before darkness could claim me completely, I felt strong arms catch me, gentle despite the rage I could feel trembling through his frame.
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Chapter 60: Alexander Came
My wolf whined softly, recognizing safety even as consciousness slipped away. We were
found. We were safe.
The last thing I heard was Alexander’s growl, promising violence to those who had dared to harm me, before everything faded to black.
