Chapter 64: Broken Glass and Cold Truths

\- SELLENE

The bolt scraped back—a sound that was starting to feel like a sting. I didn’t look up from the washbasin. I just kept scrubbing my wrists, the water turning a pale, muddy pink. My skin was raw, but I couldn't feel the sting over the roar in my ears.

"Luna?"

It was Liora. She didn't sound like herself; her words were thin and vibrating with pure panic.

I heard the clink of a metal tray being set on the vanity. A heavy silence filled the room, making it hard to breathe. I finally turned, letting the water drip from my numb fingers onto the floor.

Liora was standing there, clutching a folded silk gown. Her eyes went from my face to the tumbled blankets on the bed, then to the bruise already blooming like a dark flower on my shoulder. She didn't gasp. She just went deathly pale, her knuckles turning white against the fabric.

"That bastard," she whispered, the words coming out like a curse.

"Don't," I said, my voice sounding like it had been dragged over gravel. "Just... let it be, Liora."

She moved toward me, dropping the gown on a chair and reaching for the bowl of ice she’d brought. Her hands were shaking so hard the ice cubes rattled against the ceramic.

"Betsy found me," she said, her voice dropping to a fierce, low hiss. "She told me everything. About the chute, about the map, about... about what happened here this morning."

She pressed a cold, damp cloth wrapped around ice to my cheek. I winced, the cold biting into the heat of the slap Kaelen had left behind.

"I’m going to kill him," Liora muttered, her eyes flashing with a lethal kind of protective rage. "I don't care if he’s the Alpha. I’ll put something in his tea that’ll make his heart stop before he hits the floor."

"And then they’ll hang you in the square, and I’ll still be in this room," I said, gently pushing her hand away. "We don't need a murder, Liora. We need an exit."

Liora sat on the edge of the bed, the very spot Kaelen had just vacated. She looked smaller, somehow, the weight of the manor finally pressing down on her shoulders.

"He’s losing it, Luna. The pack house is a mess. Galen got the message—I saw him at the bridge. He looked like he’d been through a war, but he understood. He’s waiting for the 'song.' But Kaelen... Kaelen is smelling blood. He knows the cracks are showing."

"He knows more than that," I said, leaning against the vanity for support. "He’s attracted to the cracks. He liked it that I fought back. It made him feel like he was winning a real prize, not just a trophy."

Liora looked like she was going to be sick. "We have to go. Tonight. Before he decides to 'check' on you again."

"Not tonight," I said, my mind finally clearing, the hatred sharpening into a tool. "The guards are on high alert. Betsy’s 'third night' plan is the only way. We have to wait for the shift change during the new moon. It’s the only time the South gate goes manual."

"Three days?" Liora stood up, pacing the small space. "You think you can survive three more days in here with him?"

"I’ve survived ten years," I said, a cold, hard smile touching my lips. "Three days is a vacation compared to that."

Liora stopped pacing and looked at me. Really looked at me. "You’ve changed. You’re not the girl I used to sneak sweets to in the kitchen."

"That girl died in the woods," I said. "The one standing here is just... tired of being treated like shit."

Liora reached out, taking my hand and squeezing it. "Betsy’s ready. She’s got a pack hidden in the laundry flue. Some dried meat, a knife, and those fancy journals you love so much."

"Tell her to keep the journals. I only need the map."

"She’s also got Vireya moved," Liora added, a bit of the old spark returning to her eyes. "We told the guards she needed 'special herbs' from the lower garden. She’s hidden in the old potting shed. Kaelen won't look for her there—it’s too 'peasant' for his tastes."

"Good. Keep her there until the third night."

I walked over to the fresh gown Liora had brought—a deep, bruised purple. Kaelen’s favorite color. I picked it up, the silk feeling like cold snakes against my fingers.

"He wants me at dinner," I said. "He wants me to look 'presentable' for his guests."

"Guests?" Liora frowned. "Who’s coming to this hellhole now?"

"He didn't say. But he wants a show. He wants everyone to see that his Luna is back where she belongs."

Liora helped me into the dress, her fingers nimble as she worked the tiny buttons up my spine. Every touch was a reminder of the life I was leaving behind—the life of a doll being dressed for a play.

"Let him have his show," Liora whispered in my ear as she pulled my hair back into a sleek, severe knot. "Let him think he’s won. But remember, Luna—the most dangerous thing in a house is the one everyone thinks is already broken."

I looked at my reflection. The bruise was hidden under a layer of thick cream, my eyes were clear and cold, and the purple silk clung to me like armor. I looked the part—the perfect Luna, the cold-eyed queen.

But underneath the silk, tucked into the laces of my corset, was a silver coin and a map to a world Kaelen would never understand.

"I’m ready," I said.

"Then let’s go give them a performance they’ll never forget," Liora said, her jaw set.

We walked toward the door together. I didn't wait for the guard to open it. I grabbed the handle and pulled it open myself, stepping into the hallway with my head held high.

Varick was standing there, his eyes widening as he saw me. I didn't give him a second glance. I made my way to the stairs, the silence of the hall making the air feel like a fuse about to blow.

The manor was quiet, but it was the silence of a held breath.

Three days, I thought, the silver coin biting into my skin with every step. Three days, Kaelen. And then I’m going to burn this cage to the ground.

As I reached the top of the grand staircase, I could see Kaelen standing in the foyer below, talking to a man in a dark suit. He looked up, his eyes catching mine. He smiled—that cold, possessive smile that used to make my knees weak.

Now, it just made me want to sharpen my teeth.

I didn't smile back. I just walked down the stairs, one slow, deliberate step at a time, watching his world start to crumble from the inside out.