The air around Lucas was so frigid that he shivered against the cold. The brittle dirt was rubbing into his damp skin and wounds, the stench of his own blood filling his nostrils and the scorching sensation searing through his scar. He opened his once bright blue eyes that were now dark and held so much pain. He looked around the dank and musty place, which he could only figure out as a dungeon.
He moaned. He was both aching and parched.
He'd lost track of time after Viessa was done with him, so he couldn't be too sure if he had been in confinement for just days or weeks now. His mind was so determined and focused on withstanding the worst of the brutal torture done to him.
Lucas supposed he could've just told the mistress where he would be meeting Alex and then save him from the agonizing torture of silver against his skin, but he hadn’t. Alex was his half-brother, and he very well knew what they would do to Alex after he had escaped and avoided completing his *90 Days of Torment* ― the punishment that was usually sentenced to anyone with power, influence, or rank. But after pissing Draven with the nature of his offense, Lucas knew that Alex would not survive it. He was certain Draven would use his own influence in The Council to make sure Alex would not come out of his punishment alive.
He had to do what Alex’s father had not done and used his own influence to save his brother.
And now, after his thoughtless and daring mission to rescue Francine for his brother, he was suffering in the dungeon. The days were starting to blur together after hours upon hours of torture occurred and constant promise for freedom if he only just told them where Alex could be hiding. But he did not give in and did give out Harper’s name.
*Harper*. The tiniest bit of anticipation of being with her once again brought a glimmer of hope to Lucas. He had no idea when or how, but he knew he would reunite with her someday. If only he could escape this hell he was in. But his only hope now was for Francine’s uncle, father, and mother, who were all members of The Council, to take action.
Lucas groaned as he gingerly rolled on to his back; his muscles felt as if they were being ripped apart. After receiving sixty lashes a few moments ago, he was tossed in a small cell in the dungeon. He pressed his shaking finger tips on the small trickle of water in the small crack in the floor when he suddenly heard it―someone quietly and slowly was moving down the hallway. He immediately scurried in a corner, a desperate attempt to hide from Viessa or any of her underlings.
He held his breath when footsteps approached his cell. He buried his head between his knees, which he pulled together against his heaving chest. Then he heard two metals scraping that was soon followed by the steel door creaking as if it was being opened.
“Lucas.”
He cracked his eyes open and gasped. A woman with scruffy dark hair in a hooded dress cloak filled his vision. “Francine?”
“Yes.”
“What are you doing here?”
“To get you.”
“How?”
A proud yet thankful smile formed on Francine’s lips. “I got help.”
Quickly enough, another woman in a moss green hooded dress cloak came into view and stepped inside the cell that had immediately felt too crowded.
“Hello, Lucas…”
“Huh! You!”
Francine looked at the woman then back at Lucas, who was still on the cold stone floor. “You two know each other?”
“Through our common friend. Alex,” the woman said. “You look a mess, Lucas.”
“Thanks…Mira,” Lucas replied.
Mira smiled and took a small potion bottle from the side pocket of her cloak. “Here. Drink this to help you walk.”
Lucas stared at the purple liquid inside the bottle. “What is that?”
“I drank that too. It’s a concoction Mira made to help our feet have enough strength to carry us out of here,” Francine answered.
Lucas’ eyes narrowed at Mira. “You made this? What are you?”
“She’s a mage, Lucas. Didn’t you know that? Now stop with your question and drink that. We have to go before they’d notice my absence and alarm the entire castle,” Francine pushed.
Lucas gave it a quick thought. The only thing he’d lose if the potion happened to be a poison was his life, but death would soon come to him if he wouldn’t take a chance. So, without so much option, he pressed the bottle to his lips and swallowed the liquid. Quickly, a cooling sensation crept to every joint in his lower extremities and pressure points as cold liquid hit his stomach. He took a long and deep breath in relief and carefully stood up. He staggered at first, but he was soon able to balance on his feet.
“Let’s hurry. With all the wounds and open cuts caused by silver in your body, the potion could only hold off the pain for at least half an hour,” Mira explained; her voice was low and calm.
Francine bent to quickly break the chains that held Lucas’ feet to the floor with her bare hands. “Mira gave me an extra drop to restore my natural strength to help us go through locked doors,” she explained when Lucas watched her break the chain with a little less effort.
“Let’s go,” Mira urged. She led them out of the cell and cautiously walked into a corridor.
When they reached the other side of the dungeon, Lucas’s heart suddenly fell at the sight in front of them. There were rows of what had to be almost a hundred cell doors that lined the long corridor. But unlike his tiny cell, there were no windows on the steel doors. He wondered whether the cells were empty of prisoners as his ears couldn’t pick up any screams or cries behind those closed doors. Or had all the prisoners been given their sentences already?
After shaking off the dark thoughts of what could have happened to the unlucky detainees, he picked up his pace when he noticed that he was already falling behind the two women.
It didn’t take long until they came across a long and slope staircase. They began climbing up the stairs in silence that felt like a mile long when all three of them finally reached above the ground.
They quickly crossed the other side of the hall and hurried off to another passageway when Mira stopped in front of them. She turned to Lucas and Francine, her slender point finger against her lip as if to warn them not to make any noise. Slowly and quietly, she took steps toward a corner and waved the two to follow her. They stood still behind a wall and listened to footsteps echoing.
Francine’s fangs elongated, but they knew they were at a disadvantage with Lucas too weak to turn. He at least needed Mira’s potion to help him stand up and walk. So, they tried to stay hidden and dismissed the thought of fighting back.
Soon enough, the footsteps on the other side of the wall slowly faded until they could no longer be heard. Francine moved to push away Lucas’ body that was keeping her from view.
"We should keep moving," Mira told them.
"What’s in it for you, Mira?” Lucas asked, unmoving.
“Excuse me?”
“Why are you helping us? Especially her?” He pointed at Francine.
“Why not?” Francine turned to face Mira. “Have I wronged you? Is there something both of you know that I don’t?”
“Why don’t you ask―”
“Nothing, my lady,” Mira cut off what Lucas was about to say. “But Lucas may be right. I haven’t really been entirely forthcoming with you.”
Francine’s eyebrow arched, and from the expression she was giving her, Mira estimated that the vampiress knew so little.
“You and I share the same kind of affection toward…” Mira swallowed. “Towards…Alex.”
“You have some sort of feelings for *my* Alex?”
“Unrequited, I assure you, my lady,” Mira’s tone was cold, but the words tumbled from her mouth in a rush. The need to guarantee Francine that she wasn’t hiding any agenda was evident. “As soon as he met you, he immediately made it clear to me that he wanted to pursue you.”
Francine’s lip formed a half-smile. “Is that right?” Suddenly self-conscious in front of the woman who was vying for Alex’s affection―her competition, she attempted to smooth her hair.
“Yes, my lady. And, forgive me for saying this, but I do genuinely care for Alex, and whatever―whoever―makes him happy, make me happy in return. That’s why I’m helping you so you could finally be together. But I’m afraid this won’t happen if we don’t move our cute asses out of here. Let’s go.”
“Curious how I have not seen any guard since we left my cell. Are you sure they’re not hiding in the shadows, Mira?” Lucas asked, still not convinced that the mage’s intention to help them was pure.
“She has helped us escape our cells. There’s no point in questioning her motive now, Lucas." Francine’s tone was dripping with aristocracy. She then turned to continue moving.
“Since I know more than you do, I’d question every single thing this woman would offer,” Lucas bit back and started walking. “I wonder how―”
“Surely, you can do that while we hurry to our safety,” Mira’s voice rose above his, cutting him off.
He chose to grunt at her in annoyance, not to waste any more time. "Any ideas on how to get out of here?"
“We will exit from the back. I have placed everybody in a temporary coma with the soda I have offered them. We have exactly less than ten minutes before their consciousness comes back to them. Let’s go.”
They hurried off to the back of the castle in silence. The stillness around them, which had been comforting earlier, was now maddening. They have to be very careful and have to move stealthily as any noise could potentially alarm the guards.
“Viessa would be back soon, and they’d be doubling the guards to patrol the grounds. We have to hurry.”
Just as either Lucas or Francine was about to respond, a growl resounded throughout the entire castle. A seemingly powerful werewolf, no doubt, had noticed one of their empty cells or had smelled their stench.
Francine's mouth drew into a flat fretful line, and she merely closed her eyes, half expecting an attack. They all paused momentarily as every fiber in their beings tensed before they broke into a run, away from the danger and the torture that, unquestionably, awaited them if they wouldn’t make it out of there.