Chapter 18 Prison Bonds
Janelle
The darkness of the dungeon pressed against me like a living thing. I'd stopped crying hours ago, my tears dried up along with any hope of survival. Dawn couldn't be far away, and with it would come my execution for a crime I didn't commit.
The sound of footsteps echoing down the stone corridor made me lift my head. A guard's torch cast dancing shadows on the walls as he approached, dragging something behind him.
No, not something. Someone.
"Fresh meat for you, witch," the guard sneered, unlocking the cell next to mine. He shoved a figure inside so roughly they hit the stone wall with a sickening thud. "Try not to curse this one to death before morning."
The woman who crumpled to the floor was small and frail, with silver-streaked hair hanging in matted tangles around her face. Her clothes were torn and bloodied, and ugly bruises covered her visible skin. But when she raised her head, her eyes were the most startling green I had ever seen, bright and fierce despite her obvious pain.
"Elena Blackthorn," the guard spat. "Condemned witch. Scheduled for burning tomorrow afternoon, right after the poisoner's execution." His cold gaze fixed on me through the bars. "What a day it'll be for justice."
He laughed as he walked away, leaving us in darkness once again.
For a long moment, neither of us spoke. Then the woman, Elena let out a soft, bitter laugh.
"Well," she said, her voice hoarse but unexpectedly warm, "I suppose we're to be execution partners. How delightful."
Despite everything, I almost smiled. "You don't sound very concerned about dying tomorrow."
"Oh, child." Elena pushed herself up against the wall, wincing at the movement. "When you've lived as long as I have, death becomes less of a terror and more of an old friend you haven't seen in a while."
"How long have you been imprisoned?"
"Three months. You?"
"Since tonight. I'm supposed to die at dawn." The words felt surreal on my tongue.
"Ah, you must be the servant girl who tried to poison King Magnus." Elena's green eyes studied me intently through the bars separating our cells. "Though I must say, you don't look like a would-be assassin."
"That's because I'm not." The denial came out sharper than I intended. "Someone framed me."
"I believe you." Elena shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position on the stone floor. "The question is, why would someone want you dead badly enough to risk framing you for regicide?"
I stared at her in surprise. "You believe me? Just like that?"
"Child, I've been a healer for sixty years. I can read people like others read books. You have the aura of someone who's been deeply wronged, not someone who's committed treason." She paused, tilting her head. "Though there's something else about you. Something... unusual."
"What do you mean?"
Elena was quiet for so long I thought she wouldn't answer. When she finally spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper.
"Tell me about your family, Janelle."
Ice ran through my veins. "How do you know my name?"
"Word travels fast in dungeons. But your family, tell me about them. Your parents, specifically."
"They're dead." The words came out flat, emotionless. "Killed three years ago when our pack was massacred."
"What pack?"
"Crimson Moon."
Elena sucked in a sharp breath. "Crimson Moon Pack. Of course." She leaned forward, her eyes intense. "Your mother, what was her name?"
"Lydia. Lydia Moonwhisper." I frowned. "Why are you asking me this?"
"Because, child, your mother was my student."
The world tilted beneath me. "What?"
"Twenty years ago, Lydia Moonwhisper came to me seeking to understand her gifts. She was one of the most naturally talented witches I ever taught." Elena's voice grew soft with memory. "She had an incredible ability to strengthen bonds between souls, to weave magic that connected hearts and minds."
My mouth fell open. "My mother was a witch?"
"She was. And if you're her daughter, then you carry her bloodline. Her power." Elena's eyes blazed with sudden intensity. "That's what I'm sensing in you. Dormant magic, waiting to be awakened."
"That's impossible. I'm just a werewolf. I don't have magic."
"Don't you?" Elena leaned closer to the bars. "Tell me about your mate bond."
Heat flooded my cheeks. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Child, I can smell it on you. The bond magic, stronger than anything I've ever encountered. No ordinary werewolf could maintain a connection that powerful." She studied my face carefully. "It's with Prince Adrian, isn't it?"
I couldn't deny it. "How did you know?"
"Because only a witch's bloodline could create a mate bond strong enough to drive a prince to near-madness with jealousy. Your mother's gift is manifesting in you, Janelle. It's why your connection to Adrian is so intense, so unbreakable."
My head spun with the implications. "Even if that were true, it doesn't matter. I'll be dead in a few hours."
"Not if I can help it." Elena struggled to her feet, gripping the bars between our cells. "I may be old and battered, but I still have some fight left in me. And if you truly carry your mother's bloodline, you have more power than you know."
"I don't understand."
"Magic responds to strong emotion, to desperate need. The stronger your feelings, the more power you can access." Elena's voice grew urgent. "I can teach you, Janelle. Not much, we don't have time for that. But enough to give you a fighting chance."
"Teach me what, exactly?"
"How to channel your power. How to let it flow through you instead of fighting against it." Elena extended her hand through the bars. "Give me your hand."
I hesitated. "What will happen?"
"I'll awaken what's already inside you. But I warn you, once awakened, magic can be unpredictable. Dangerous."
"More dangerous than execution?"
Elena's smile was grim. "Fair point."
I reached through the bars and grasped her weathered hand. The moment our skin touched, electricity shot up my arm. But this wasn't the mate bond fire I felt with Adrian, this was something else entirely. Something wild and ancient and powerful.
"Close your eyes," Elena whispered. "Feel the energy flowing between us. Don't fight it – welcome it."
I closed my eyes and tried to relax. At first, nothing happened. Then slowly, I began to feel it, a warmth spreading through my chest, different from anything I'd ever experienced. It felt like sunlight and starfire and the deep magic of growing things.
"Good," Elena breathed. "I can feel it awakening. Your mother's gift, passed down through blood and bone."
The warmth grew stronger, spreading through my limbs until my whole body hummed with energy. When I opened my eyes, I gasped. Soft silver light emanated from my skin, casting dancing shadows on the dungeon walls.
"What's happening to me?"
"You're becoming who you were always meant to be." Elena's eyes shone with satisfaction. "Now, let me teach you the basics before.."
Heavy footsteps echoed down the corridor, cutting off her words. Multiple guards this time, their torches blazing against the darkness. My heart hammered as they stopped outside my cell.
"Time to go, poisoner," Captain Thorne's voice was cold as winter steel. "The headsman is waiting."
"No!" Elena gripped my hand tighter through the bars. "You're not ready yet. I need more time to teach you control.."
"Control?" Captain Thorne laughed harshly as he unlocked my cell door. "The only thing she needs to control is her final prayers."
Two guards stepped into my cell, reaching for me with rough hands. Terror flooded my system, and with it came the magic Elena had awakened. It surged through me like a tidal wave, wild and uncontrolled.
"Don't touch her!" Elena shouted, but it was too late.
The guard's hand closed around my wrist, and power exploded from me like lightning.
He screamed as silver fire engulfed him, his body convulsing as magical energy tore through him. The smell of burning flesh filled the air as he collapsed, his eyes wide and lifeless.
The remaining guards stumbled backward, shouting in terror and confusion. Captain Thorne drew his sword, his face pale with shock.
"Witch!" he snarled. "She's a bloody witch!"
I stared at my hands in horror. Silver light still flickered around my fingers, and the dead guard lay at my feet, killed by power I didn't understand or control.
"What have I done?" I whispered.
"What you had to do to survive," Elena said firmly. "But now they know what you are. Everything changes now, child."
Captain Thorne backed toward the corridor, his sword still raised. "Sound the alarm! The prisoner is a witch! She's killed Guard Morrison with dark magic!"
As his shouts echoed through the dungeon, I realized Elena was right. Everything had changed. I wasn't just a servant accused of treason anymore.
I was a witch who had just killed a man with magic I barely understood. And there was no going back..