Chapter 122: Ends Here

**Percival’s POV**

After spending a few hours in a spacious room, my son Quinn and I found ourselves trailing behind Isaac, the stoic Gamma of the Moonstone Pack, down a musty hallway that reeked of damp stone and urine. This dungeon was a far cry from what I was used to.

"Wow, this place is positively charming," Quinn quipped, his voice bouncing off the stone walls. "Think they rent it out for children's birthday parties?"

I sighed, choosing to ignore his sarcasm, hoping he'd rein it in. He tended to get flippant when he was annoyed. Thankfully, Isaac paid him no mind, his focus fixed on the path ahead.

Earlier, he'd confiscated all our electronic devices and given us a thorough pat-down.

"Remember," Isaac's voice, lacking any warmth, broke the tense silence, "the prisoner is off-limits. No physical contact. Any violation will be met with swift and severe consequences."

I nodded, not surprised by the strict rules. A pang of worry gnawed at me. How would Florence react to seeing us here? But I pushed those thoughts aside, concentrating on the task ahead. She needed help, and this was perhaps the best opportunity I had to offer it.

Quinn, however, seemed to chafe under Isaac's stern gaze. "Alright, alright, we get it. No funny business. Can we just see her already?"

I squeezed his shoulder as a warning. Isaac gave a curt nod and led us further down the stairs, the flickering torches casting eerie shadows on the walls. The air grew heavier until we rounded a corner, the sound of muffled sobs reaching our ears. Then, the heavy metal door came into view. Isaac stopped, his hand hovering over a keypad bathed in dim red light. With a few quick taps, the door creaked open, revealing the dingy interior of Florence's cell.

And there she was. Huddled on the cot, a shadow of her former self illuminated by the warm glow of the torchlight. Despite her disheveled appearance, it was unmistakably her. Her once vibrant hair was now dull and lifeless, her eyes betraying countless sleepless nights. Just from the frown on her face, I could tell she was in disbelief at seeing us here.

Quinn, unable to contain himself any longer, rushed forward, a choked cry escaping him, but he stopped short of reaching her, knowing to respect the boundaries set by Isaac.

"Florence! Are you okay?!"

“Yes,” she replied, visibly stunned.

Isaac glanced at Florence briefly, then shot us an understanding look before slipping past and exiting the cell.

"Kiddo," I began cautiously, standing beside Quinn, "How are you holding up?"

She shifted her gaze to me. "Fine. But why are you here, Percival? What are you doing here? You and Quinn?”

I had anticipated this question.

"I delivered the package myself."

Her shoulders slumped, a visible deflation in her posture. "The package. We… We talked about this. That you wouldn't do this—deliver the package yourself! You shouldn't have gotten yourself affiliated with me!”

Quinn sadly smiled, “Honey, how could we do that to you? You're my sister. When we heard that someone called that private number you're protecting, and realized it was the Alpha King, we knew something happened to you—between the two of you.”

I added, “And the only way we could find out what was happening was to deliver the package ourselves”

She shook her head, concern etched on her face for us. “I assumed he already knew you were affiliated with me? He hates me, so I knew he would possibly punish you as well.”

"The Alpha King is a reasonable man," I explained, “I'm certain he wouldn't kill you.”

“Is he now?" she scoffed, bitterness lacing her voice. "No matter what he decides, nothing will change. You've just wasted your time coming for me."

Quinn, unable to hold back any longer, exclaimed, "We'll help you get out of here! The Alpha King already knows everything. I'm sure he has a plan for you because if you die, he does too.”

“Quinn is right,” I said softly.

She shook her head, the movement fragile and heartbreaking. "There's nothing left. Nothing anyone can do. You should leave. Thank you for bringing the evidence, but our ties should end here.”

I could see the exhaustion etched on her face, the despair dancing in her eyes. It was as if she was resigned to something.

“Florence, what the hell are you saying?!” Quinn snapped frustratedly.

“What are you saying, child?” I asked, concerned.

She shook her head, retreating to the corner of her prison cell and leaning against the cold wall as if she had already given up.

"Please… just leave. It's better this way."

“We can't!” Quinn retorted. “Sara wanted to see you.”

“You brought… Sara?!" she exclaimed in disbelief.

"She's here," I added. "Safe."

But Florence's next words surprised me.

"No," she rasped, "I can't see her. It wouldn't be right. Let her forget me."

Her words made me frown. Something was amiss in her reactions.

“What's happening, kiddo?” I asked in a hushed whisper. “You can tell me”

She looked at me, tears welling in her eyes. “It ends here, Percival. You've already paid your dues, and the favor.”

I shook my head. “I never did it all as a favor or a debt to be repaid.”

“You're practically my sister, my twin, Flo! Don't be like this,” Quinn said.

It was as if her guard went up instinctively. I knew the moment she closed herself off.

“I'm thankful for everything. I truly am, but we need to sever our ties here,” she muttered coldly.

Quinn, frustrated, stepped toward her cell. “Florence! Snap out of it! What's going on with you?!”

“Isaac, I don't want to talk to them!” Florence yelled.

And just like that, the Gamma appeared, pulling Quinn away from the prison cell.

“I told you not to do that,” Isaac scolded, dragging my son to the door.

“Wait, I need to talk to her! Florence!” Quinn fought back. “Hey, you are attractive, yes but I need to talk to my twin!…”

I stared at Florence, who just smiled at me. Something wasn't right.

“I'm sorry,” she mumbled.

“Alpha Percival,” Isaac called.

With one last glance at Florence, I walked away.