Chapter 20 Prison Awaits
POV: Callum Brennan
Location: Holding Cell, Supernatural Enforcement Facility
Time: After Testimony
The guards throw me back in holding after the day's testimony ends. The cell's small, concrete, smells like blood and despair. I'm not alone. There are three other wolves in here waiting for their own trials or sentencing.
I collapse on the metal bench that serves as a bed. My hands are shaking. I can't stop seeing Cormac's eyes. That moment when the mask dropped and I saw the truth. My brother feels nothing. The person I trusted most in the world destroyed me and feels satisfied about it.
"First time in the system?" One of the other wolves asks. Male, maybe forty, scarred and rough-looking. "You've got that shell-shocked look. Like you can't believe this is happening to you."
I don't answer. Can't find words.
"That was quite a show in court today," another wolf says. This one's younger, maybe mid-twenties. "Your own brother testifying against you. That's brutal."
"He lied," I say quietly. "About all of it."
"They always do. Witnesses, prosecutors, judges. The whole system's rigged." The older wolf moves closer. "What are they charging you with?"
"Murder. Embezzlement."
The younger wolf whistles. "That's serious. What's the prosecution asking for?"
"Six months in supernatural prison. Then permanent exile from my pack."
Silence. The three wolves exchange looks.
"Six months in the Cage," the older wolf says. "That's a death sentence."
"What's the Cage?"
"Supernatural prison. Official name's something else but everyone calls it the Cage. It's in North London, underground. Run by vampires." The older wolf's voice is matter-of-fact, like he's discussing the weather. "I've been there. Did eight months three years ago. Nearly killed me."
"What's it like?"
"Hell. Actual hell." The older wolf sits across from me. "The cells are lined with silver. Bars, walls, floors. Everywhere you touch burns. You can't shift. Can't access your full strength. You're just stuck there in constant pain."
The third wolf, who's been silent until now, speaks up. He's older, maybe fifty, with dead eyes. "The vampires run it for entertainment. They don't just guard prisoners. They torture them. For fun. You'll be fed on, beaten, isolated. They break wolves for sport."
"That can't be legal."
"It's supernatural prison. Different rules. The vampires call it rehabilitation. Say they're teaching prisoners to respect authority." The older wolf laughs bitterly. "Really they're just sadists who get off on hurting things that can't fight back."
My stomach's churning. Six months in a vampire-run torture facility. That's what I'm facing. That's the sentence Cormac arranged for me.
"What's the mortality rate?" I ask, not sure I want the answer.
"Official numbers say five percent. Actual numbers are closer to twenty." The fifty-year-old wolf's voice is flat. "Some wolves die from silver poisoning. Some die from vampire feeding. Some just give up. Stop eating, stop fighting, waste away. Six months is a long time to survive constant torture."
"You won't make it," the younger wolf says. He's not being cruel. Just honest. "You're Beta. Pack wolf. Soft. Prison wolves can smell it on you. You've never had to fight for survival. Never been truly desperate. That softness will get you killed."
"How long do most wolves last?"
"Depends. Tough wolves, ones who've survived the streets, they might make it three or four months. Pack wolves like you? Two months tops before you break." The older wolf shakes his head. "And breaking's worse than dying. Broken wolves come out thralls. Vampire slaves. Lost everything that made them wolves."
I think about Marcus. The omega who bit Isla on Cormac's orders. He survived the Cage but he's broken. Terrified. Living in the Rookeries doing whatever he's told.
That's my future. If I survive.
"There has to be a way to make it through," I say.
"Yeah. Don't go." The fifty-year-old wolf looks at me. "Take a plea. Confess to lesser charges. Get probation instead of prison time."
"I'm innocent."
"Doesn't matter. The system doesn't care about innocence. It cares about convictions. You want to survive? Admit guilt. Beg for mercy. Take whatever deal they offer." The wolf leans forward. "Pride's not worth dying for."
The door opens. A guard appears. "Brennan. Your lawyer's here."
I follow the guard to a consultation room. Thomas Whitmore's waiting, looking exhausted and defeated.
"How bad is it?" I ask as soon as the guard leaves.
"Bad. The prosecution's case is airtight. Your brother's testimony was devastating. The jury's going to convict." Thomas pulls out papers. "But there's an option. Victoria Cross approached me during recess. She's offering a plea bargain."
"What kind of plea bargain?"
"Guilty plea to embezzlement. Drop the murder charge. You'd get four months in the Cage instead of six. Plus five years probation instead of permanent exile. After probation, you could potentially rejoin a pack. Not your birth pack, but somewhere."
Four months instead of six. Still prison. Still torture. But shorter. And not permanent packless status.
"What about the murder charge?"
"Dropped completely. You'd only be convicted of financial crimes." Thomas looks at me. "Callum, this is the best deal you're going to get. Four months is survivable. Six months isn't. And probation gives you a future. Exile doesn't."
"I didn't embezzle anything."
"I know you say that. But the evidence disagrees. The jury's going to convict you anyway. At least with a plea, you get reduced sentencing." Thomas's voice is urgent. "Pride isn't worth dying for. Take the deal. Admit to the embezzlement. Serve your time. Get out and rebuild your life."
I think about what the inmates said. Six months is a death sentence. Most wolves don't survive. The ones who do come out broken.
But confessing to crimes I didn't commit means letting Cormac win. Means accepting his lies as truth. Means admitting I'm a thief when I'm not.
"No," I say.
"Callum, please. Think about this rationally."
"I am thinking rationally. I didn't steal pack money. I'm not going to confess to it just to get a shorter prison sentence." I meet Thomas's eyes. "My brother framed me. He lied under oath. He's destroying me to eliminate competition. I won't help him by admitting guilt."
"Then you're going to die in prison. You understand that? Four months you might survive. Six months you won't. This isn't about pride. This is about staying alive."
"It's about truth. If I confess, Cormac's lies become reality. Everyone believes I was a criminal who got caught. But if I maintain my innocence, if I fight this, at least some people might question it. Might wonder if I was framed."
"No one's going to wonder. The evidence is too strong. Your brother's testimony was too convincing. You fighting this just makes you look delusional." Thomas stands. "I'll tell Victoria you rejected the plea. But you're making a terrible mistake. A fatal one."
Thomas leaves. I'm alone in the consultation room, trying not to panic.
I'm going to prison. Vampire-run torture facility. Six months of silver cells and feeding and beatings. Twenty percent mortality rate. And I'm too soft to survive.
But I won't confess to crimes I didn't commit. Won't give Cormac the satisfaction of seeing me break.
Even if it kills me.
Back in holding, the other wolves are quiet when I return.
"You took the plea?" the older wolf asks.
"No. I refused."
"You're insane."
"Maybe. But I'm innocent. I won't confess to crimes I didn't commit."
The fifty-year-old wolf shakes his head. "Principles are great until you're choking on silver dust while a vampire drinks from your throat. Then you'll wish you'd taken the deal."
"At least I'll die knowing I told the truth."
"You'll die broken and alone. But sure, cling to your truth if it makes you feel better." The wolf turns away. "Just don't expect sympathy when you're screaming in the Cage."
We sit in silence. The reality's settling in. I'm going to prison. I'm probably going to die there. And my brother's going to continue being Alpha, living in Father's house, leading the pack we were supposed to lead together.
Cormac wins everything. I lose everything. That's the outcome.
The door opens again. A different guard appears. "Brennan. You've got a message."
The guard hands me a folded piece of paper. Expensive stationery. I recognize it. Pack letterhead. From Cormac's office.
I unfold it. Cormac's handwriting.
Dear brother,
I'm so sorry it came to this. I never wanted to testify against you. I never wanted to believe you were capable of these crimes. But the evidence is overwhelming and I can't ignore it.
I hope you'll find peace in prison. I hope you'll use this time to reflect on your choices and find redemption. I'll pray for you every day. I'll pray you survive and come back to us changed and better.
Know that I still love you. You're my twin, my brother, my family. That will never change, no matter what you've done.
With deepest regret and eternal hope,
Cormac
I stare at the letter. It's perfect. Loving, concerned, heartbroken. The kind of message a devastated brother would send to his criminal twin.
It's also complete bullshit.
I remember those three seconds when our eyes met. The satisfaction. The relief. The emptiness. Cormac doesn't love me. He never did. This letter is just another performance for anyone who might read it.
I tear the letter into pieces. Slowly, methodically, shredding it until it's confetti in my hands. Then I drop the pieces on the floor.
"Message from someone important?" the older wolf asks.
"Message from my brother. Telling me he's praying for my redemption."
"That the same brother who just testified you're a murderer?"
"Yeah. Same one."
"Family's complicated."
"Family's a lie. At least mine is." I look at the shredded letter. "My brother destroyed me and now he's pretending to feel bad about it. Like his prayers will fix what he did."
The wolf nods. "Supernatural justice is always personal. Someone wants you gone. Uses the system to make it look legitimate. Your brother just had better resources than most."
"He had vampire help. Lord Mordaunt. Ancient vampire who runs the Crimson Parliament. My brother's been working with him for weeks. Maybe months."
"Then you never had a chance. Mordaunt owns half the supernatural justice system. Judges, prosecutors, investigators. All of them in his pocket." The wolf looks at me with something like pity. "You were convicted before the trial started. This whole thing was just theater."
I know he's right. The trial was predetermined. The verdict's guaranteed. I'm going to prison because a vampire lord and my paranoid brother decided I needed to be eliminated.
And there's nothing I can do about it.
The guards will come tomorrow. Lead me back to court. The jury will deliver their guilty verdict. The judge will sentence me to six months in the Cage. Then I'll be transported to vampire-run hell.
I'll probably die there. Broken and alone. While Cormac continues his life as Alpha.
But at least I'll die knowing the truth. My brother's a monster. The justice system's corrupt. And I didn't break. Didn't confess. Didn't help them destroy me.
That has to count for something.
Even if it's the only thing I have left.