"You think you're special? You're a murderer." she hissed, shoving me back against the stone wall.
I tried to push her away, my nails catching her cheek, but that was the excuse they were waiting for. One of the male officers grabbed my arms, pinning them behind my back so hard I felt my shoulders pop.
"Resisting an officer?" the lanky one whispered in my ear, his breath hot and disgusting. "That's a shame. We'll have to teach you some manners before the executioner gets his turn."
The next few minutes were a blur of cold hands and hot pain. They weren't looking for weapons. They weren't searching me for contraband. They were trying to break me.
They touched me where nobody but a mate should ever touch a wolf with rough and mocking hands. I fought, I bit, I kicked, but I was one girl against three trained Enforcers.
When they finally grew bored, the woman gave me one last shove, sending me sprawling into the corner.
"Don't worry," she said, wiping her hands on her trousers as if I were toxic. "You won't have to worry about that dress where you're going."
They left, the iron door slamming shut with a sound that felt like a final sentence.
I curled into a ball on the floor, my breath coming in jagged, broken sobs. I felt filthy. I felt small. I felt like the three-year-old girl again, standing in the rain, watching the only people who loved me be driven away in a black bag.
"He's not coming," I whispered into the darkness. "He's not coming, Pia. He's going to let them kill us. We're just a mistake he's trying to erase."
Pia didn't answer. She was silent, buried deep under the layers of my trauma, too exhausted to hope anymore.
I stared at the high, barred window. The moon had crossed the center of the sky. The "trial" was supposed to be now. The execution was supposed to be at dawn. I wondered if it would hurt. I wondered if, when I died, my soul would find that field of jasmine I'd dreamed of, or if I'd just stay here, a ghost in a cell in a city that hated me.
I closed my eyes, the tears hot and silent as they tracked through the grime on my face. The station had gone quiet—that eerie, midnight quiet where the only sound is the buzzing of the old electric lights and the drip of water from a leaky pipe.
Then, the air changed. It was subtle at first; a shift in the pressure and a break in the stagnant smell of the cell.
I sat up slowly, my heart giving a tentative, painful thud. I sniffed the air, my wolf senses straining through the pain.
It wasn't the smell of the guards. It was the sharp, cooling scent of rain on dry pavement. It was the crisp, biting undertone of fresh mint. It was a scent that shouldn't be here, miles away from the palace and the silk sheets.
My breath hitched.
"Wave?" Pia's voice was a tiny, hopeful spark in the dark. "Do you smell that?"
I didn't dare move. I didn't dare hope. But as the scent grew stronger—filling the small, miserable cell until the smell of the gutter was completely gone, a shadow fell across the bars of my door.
It was the man who had called me a pawn, the man who had held me while I slept, and the man who currently looked like he was ready to tear the entire world apart to find what was his.
I looked up, my vision blurred by fresh tears, and saw the golden glow of an Alpha's eyes burning through the darkness of the corridor.
"Waverly," his voice was a growl, shaking the very stone I was sitting on.
He sounded like a storm. And for the first time in sixteen years, I realized that the van wasn't driving away.
The van had come back. And it was angry.
I never thought I'd be happy to see the man who'd essentially blackmailed me into a death trap, but as those golden eyes bored into mine, I was practically vibrating. I scrambled off the floor, ignoring the way my bruised ribs protested, and threw myself against the bars.
"Kaeren," I breathed, eyes full of anticipation.
I expected him to look at me with that usual coldness, but something was different. The air in the station grew heavy, charged with a static that made the hair on my arms stand up. Suddenly, a beam of pure, silver light cut through the high, barred window.
The full moon.
I hadn't even realized it had reached its peak, but my body knew. My soul knew. Inside my head, Pia sang. It was a deafening, soul-shattering recognition that made my knees weak.
"Mate!" Pia screamed, her joy so intense it felt like she was trying to burst out of my skin. "Wave, look at him! He's ours! The Goddess didn't make a mistake, she just took a very long, annoying detour through a lie!"
I stared at him, my heart thudding against the bars. Is this a joke? I thought, my mind racing. The Moon Goddess has a twisted sense of humor. We spend a day pretending to be mates to survive, and then she goes, 'Oh, by the way, you actually are.' Talk about being dramatic.
Kaeren's gaze was locked on mine, his nostrils flaring as he took in my scent that was now laced with the unmistakable pheromones of a moon-blessed bond. But more than the bond, his silence was killing me.
I wanted to scream, 'Say something! Are you happy? Are you annoyed? Are you going to leave me here because this complicates your five-year plan?'
"Open it," Kaeren gave an icy command directed at the guard behind him.
"Prince Kaeren," the guard stammered, his face the color of spoiled milk. "She's... she's an offender. We can't allow visits for those awaiting—"
Kaeren turned, and for a second, I thought the guard might actually drop dead from sheer terror. "Do I look like a visitor to you?"
He stepped into the man's space, his Alpha aura expanding until the lights in the hallway flickered. "I am her Mate. I am her Prince. And if you don't turn that key in the next three seconds, I will use your spine to pry this door off its hinges."
The jingle of the keys was frantic. The guard's hands were shaking so badly he almost dropped them twice, but finally, the lock clicked.
Kaeren stepped into the cell. He didn't say a word. He just reached out, his thumb grazing a dark bruise on my jaw.
"Who did this?" he asked.
I just knew that wasn't a question; it was a death sentence.