Chapter 3. For Them

Lyra POV

I don’t know how long I’ve been in this place, but I can’t cry forever. If I spend too many tears, I’ll become dehydrated, and I’m beginning to get thirsty.

Realizing that I’m completely dependent on these guards to stay alive, I take several deep breaths to calm myself.

I am a princess of Maelie, and I’d better start acting like it.

I rise, wiping my eyes off with the only clean part left of my sleeve and walking the edges of my cell to get a better handle on my surroundings. Strangely, it’s a single cage, with no others attached or nearby.

From what I can tell, I’m at the end of a hallway, lit by a single torch on the wall several feet down the corridor. I shudder, acutely aware that the guards can extinguish it just for fun if they’d like, leaving me in total darkness.

There’s nothing in the cage but an old, dirty, smelly blanket and a bucket for… my needs. I suppose these are my only possessions now.

But before I cry again, I remind myself that there are subjects in my kingdom with only a few more possessions than these. What food they can acquire from the sea is all they have to eat, and if the Sea-King Alpha decides Maelie can no longer access that, these people will starve and die a silent death.

Thinking of them, I feel foolish, worrying over trunks of mere possessions thrown into the sea. I don’t need beautiful dresses. I don’t need to read books that those people can never access. I don’t need diamonds, even those my own mother fastened around my neck.

I am here for them. No matter what this Alpha wants with me, if he wants only to keep me as a possession in this dungeon forever, or if he wants me to perish here, I will do it.

For them.

As Lower Princess of Maelie, I am here to serve my subjects. And the only subject I have here in Oceana is somewhere in this dungeon.

“Cally!” I call out.

No one answers, though I try several more times.

Resigned to my fate, I return to my spot near the wall. I sit cross-legged, staring into the dimly lit hallway. Silence envelops me, except for a faint, eerie hum reverberating through the stone walls.

I close my eyes, picturing the few glimpses I’ve had of the castle above me, so elegant in its simplicity, so similar to the feel of the entire palace. I suppose people who can turn into wolves are more in tune with the wild world around them. Maybe that’s why they build with the natural materials they find on their lands.

Unlike my father and Anastasia, they don’t need gilded walls.

But does that mean the gossip about the Alpha King’s cruelty is real? Maybe that connection to nature grounds them to their darkest inner instincts.

I shudder at the thought.

Hours, maybe days, pass, then footsteps approach, and I rise to greet them, hoping it’s someone who will let me out of here. Appearing in the dim light is a guard and another man, a servant holding a tray. I’m silent as the guard unlocks the door, feeling vulnerable in the dark, empty cage.

But as soon as the servant sets the tray down and the guard locks the door behind him, I feel safe again.

“The woman who was with me,” I say. “Is she safe?”

Neither man answers. They simply turn away and walk down the hallway, disappearing into the flickering torchlight.

“Thank you,” I call after them.

I turn my attention to the tray, my stomach growling as the smell of food wafts toward me. It’s a simple meal, bread and vegetables, for which I’m grateful. A large carafe accompanies it, and I take a long sip, savoring the cool, clear water.

I eat slowly, aware that I can’t be certain how long I’ve been kept here, though I know it’s long enough that my stomach isn’t used to this much food. I save half the bread, hiding it in my dress pocket in case I’m not fed again for a while.

***

The days drag on. At least, I think they are days. I’ve used my finger to mark each time I’ve been fed in the dirt beside me. From the level of my hunger, I’ve deduced that they’re feeding me once a day, though different guards check in more often, usually to replace the torch in the hallway.

And so, this patch of dirt is my calendar, proof that I live, for now.

I’m sitting, admiring it, when I hear more commotion than usual, and several figures start to appear in the torchlight.

One of them has a familiar voice.

“Where are we going?” Cally demands, her voice sweet yet firm.

My smile is instant as I rise, sprinting toward the bars of my cell just as she catches sight of me.

“Your Highness!” she cries, shoving away the men’s arms and rushing toward me, her eyes wide.

We hug through the bars, and I allow the tears to flow again.

One of the guards opens the door while two others pry us apart, throwing her into the cage with me and slamming the door again. We just laugh through the tears and hug again.

“Thank you!” I tell the guards.

One of them grunts. “Anything to shut her up.”

I frown at the guard as Cally pulls back. She instantly starts straightening my hair. “Goodness, Your Highness. How could they treat you like this?”

I shrug, pulling her hand down. “It’s the same as they’ve treated you, for which I apologize,” I tell her.

“None of this is your fault,” she insists.

I shake my head. “I can’t say it isn’t. But anyway, are you well? Are you hurt? Did they feed you?”

“Well enough, Your Highness,” she replies. “I was more concerned about you. I kept insisting that I needed to be with you because it’s my duty.”

“We’re equal here,” I insist. “Maybe it’s time you just call me Lyra. We’re friends, after all.”

Her eyes go wide, and she lets out a tiny gasp. “I don’t know if I can.”

“Try it.”

“Lyra.” She giggles. “I like that. I’ve always thought your name was beautiful. Your mother named you well. You’re just as lovely as your name.”

“I certainly don’t feel lovely right now.” I let out a sigh, jiggling the cage a little.

“Well, this Alpha wanted a wife,” she says. “Why is he treating you like this? I have no idea. But I don’t think it’ll last forever. I have a feeling you’ll be at his side soon.”

“I’m a little afraid of that,” I admit. “I mean, the man turns into a wolf. Does that happen all the time? Can he even control it?”

“I think they can, judging by what I’ve seen.” She sucks in a breath. “Did you see that gorgeous man when they were leading us in? Up on the ledge? Do you think that’s the Alpha?”

“I don’t know, but he seemed… unique.” A feeling I don’t understand flows through my arm at the thought of him, erupting my skin with goosebumps.

“I’ll say.” She bites her lip. “I guess what they said about him being gorgeous was true. I just hope that once he gets to know you, he apologizes for treating you like this.”

“Maybe someday, he will,” I say.

I doubt it.

But right now, I don’t care. Cally is safe.

I lead her back to my spot by the wall and show her my makeshift calendar. I’m still a prisoner, but having Cally here makes me feel like one day, I’ll get to be that bride.

I suppose I’ll find out eventually.