Chapter 35

Chapter 35

Astrid's POV

The cold bit deep, even huddled in the corner of this cage. Three days since Clara's venomous words, three days of silence from the sister I no longer recognized. Three days of Leon's suffocating presence. Three days since I last spoke with Sheena, my wolf.

He was a constant torment. He'd parade in, bearing gifts like some twisted Santa Claus. Clothes. Always clothes. Dresses made of silk and lace, jewelry that glittered like captured starlight. Things I never wanted, things that felt like chains disguised as finery.

"You never had things like this, Astrid," he'd say, his voice a sickly-sweet purr. "That's why you were going to leave with him, wasn't it? Because you thought he could offer you more. But I can do the same. I have more than he has too."

I'd just laugh. A harsh, hollow sound that echoed in the gilded prison. It was the only weapon I had left.

He hated the laughter. It was a crack in his carefully constructed reality, a reminder that he couldn't break me completely. He'd storm out, his face contorted with rage, muttering about how one day I'd appreciate everything he was doing for me. That Kaeleen could never provide the life he could.

"Keep telling yourself that, Leon," I'd whisper to the empty room, the sarcasm a bitter taste on my tongue.

Yesterday, he hit me. A sharp, stinging blow across the face. "You'll see," he'd snarled, his eyes burning with a possessive fire. "You'll see I'm the only one who can truly love you."

Then he'd left, leaving me to lick my wounds and the metallic tang of blood in my mouth.

Now, the afternoon sun filtered weakly through the bars of my cage, casting long shadows across the floor. My stomach growled, a hollow ache that had become a constant companion. I hadn't eaten much since my capture. Food felt like a betrayal, a surrender to Leon's control.

The sound of footsteps broke the silence. Not Leon's heavy, purposeful stride, but something lighter, more hesitant. I tensed, my muscles coiling despite my weakened state.

A woman entered the room. I didn't recognize her. She was young, with dark hair pulled back in a tight braid. Her head was bowed, her eyes fixed on the floor as she carried a tray towards my cage.

I frowned. I didn't recognize her. A new servant, maybe? Or perhaps someone from another pack, brought in to witness my humiliation.

She stopped in front of the cage, her movements stiff and awkward. She placed the tray on the floor, her hand trembling slightly. The offering was meager: a small bowl of something pale and watery, maybe porridge, and a tarnished silver spoon.

I watched her, my senses on high alert. There was something…off about her. She moved with a strange grace, a quiet confidence that didn't match her subservient posture. It was like watching a predator pretending to be prey.

"Thank you," I said, my voice raspy from disuse.

She didn't reply. She just stood there for a moment, her head still bowed, before finally raising her eyes to meet mine.

And that's when I saw it. Her eyes. They were a startling, almost unnatural shade of blue. A bright, piercing blue that seemed to burn right through me.

For a fleeting second, I felt a flicker of recognition, a sense that I had seen those eyes before. But the memory was elusive, just out of reach. Maybe she was a new addition to the pack, someone I hadn't met before.

She gave me a small, almost imperceptible nod, then turned and walked away, her movements fluid and silent. I watched her go, my mind racing. Who was she?

Shaking off the unease, I turned my attention to the tray. My stomach rumbled again, urging me to eat. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing.

I picked up the spoon. It was cold and heavy in my hand. The porridge looked bland and unappetizing, but I forced myself to take a bite. It tasted like ash.

As I swallowed, something caught my eye. A faint scratching on the handle of the spoon. I frowned, peering closer. It looked like…writing.

My heart leaped into my throat. This couldn't be a coincidence. The woman, the eyes, the writing…it all pointed to one thing.

I glanced around the room, my eyes scanning for the cameras. They were there, of course, watching my every move. But they were positioned at an angle that left a small blind spot near the corner of the cage.

I moved quickly, shifting my body to block the camera's view. My hands trembled as I turned the spoon over, my eyes straining to decipher the faint markings.

The writing was small and cramped, but legible. My breath caught in my throat as I read the words:

'Alpha Kaeleen sent me.'

The world seemed to tilt on its axis. Kaeleen…he was here? Or at least, someone he trusted was. Hope surged through me, a warm, intoxicating wave that washed away the despair.

I had to be careful. This could be a trap. Leon could be testing me, trying to gauge my loyalty. But the thought of Kaeleen, of him risking everything to reach me, was enough to make me take the chance.

I took another bite of the porridge, forcing it down despite the bitter taste. I needed to keep my strength up, to be ready for whatever came next.

I looked towards the door where the woman had disappeared. Her eyes, that piercing blue, flashed in my mind. I didn't know who she was, but I knew one thing: she was my only hope.

I closed my eyes, whispering a silent prayer to the Moon Goddess. Please, let this be real. Let this be the help I needed to get out. The support I needed. I had lost all hope before because there was no one on the outside and there was no key to unlock the cuffs. One I could steal from Leon but if there was someone on the outside helping me, then there was hope. I could get out.

The woman had left me something to write with and I quickly wrote a reply. This was the plan to get out of here and I wasn't going to let Leon hinder or stop me. Neither my sister, also.

I opened my eyes, my gaze hardening. I finished the bowl, scraping the bottom with the spoon, savoring every last bite. Then, I carefully cleaned the spoon, wiping away any trace of the message. I placed it back on the tray, arranging everything as if nothing had happened.