Alaric's POV

The walk from the palace prison to my chambers was the longest of my life.

The air felt stagnant. Thick with the smell of blood I knew belonged to her. Each footfall echoed like a funeral bell.

I moved in silence. A ghost haunting my own palace. My mind was a storm of violence. I wanted to turn back. I wanted to tear the iron gates with my bare hands. I wanted to carry her into the sunlight.

But her voice. That faint whisper held me back. She had asked me to do nothing. She had begged me for peace. But all I felt was a craving for war.

I pushed open the door to my chamber. I stepped inside. The room was cold. The fireplace had long since burned out. I did not call for the servants to relight it. I deserved the cold.

My eyes immediately fell upon my bedside table.

There was sitting in a silver vase. The flower Sophie had given me. I had placed it in fresh water. I had hoped to see it bloom. As a symbol of our burgeoning connection.

It was beautiful. Its petals were vibrant. a splash of color against the grey stone of my life. But the sight of it was like a blade in my chest.

How could I appreciate the beauty of a gift when the woman who gave it to me was sitting on a cold floor? How could I nurture this life when I was letting hers wither in the dark?

I sat heavily at my desk. I reached for the Ledger. The book that had become the bridge between our worlds. I flipped through the pages. I looked at the sketches of the meals she had prepared.

The golden poultry. The vibrant herbs. The delicate Macarons. I tried to summon the happy moments. I tried to remember the heat of the kitchen. The way she smiled when I liked her spices. But the memories were hollow. They were poisoned by the image of her bruised face and her split lip.

The pain was a physical weight. It sat on my lungs. It made every breath a struggle. I did not go to bed. I did not undress. I sat in the chair. I stared at the flower. I watched the moonlight move across the floor. Until it was replaced by the mocking grey of dawn.

I was awake until morning. My heart ached. Like a rhythm that felt like a countdown to disaster.

A knock came at the door. It was rhythmic and disciplined. Roland.

"Your Majesty." He called out.

"The elders have gathered for the morning assembly. They are waiting for you in the Grand Hall to discuss the trade routes and the tax levies."

I did not move from my chair. I did not even look at the door.

"Tell them to return to their houses." I said.

My voice sounding like gravel.

"The Alpha is not interested in seeing anyone today. Or tomorrow. Tell them the King is occupied."

"Sire they have traveled from the border provinces..."

"I do not care if they traveled from the moon!" I roared.

The sound vibrating in my chest.

"Get them out of my sight!"

I heard Roland's heavy footsteps retreat.

I felt no satisfaction in my command. I only felt a churning emptiness.

An hour later. The door creaked open. It was Elspeth. The oldest chef. She carried a silver tray. It was ladened with bread. Honey. And smoked meat.

The aroma of the food hit me. For a split second my stomach cramped with hunger. But then I remembered the prison. I remembered the moldy crusts they served to the inmates.

"Your Majesty." Elspeth said softly.

She set the tray on the side table.

"Your morning meal is ready. You must eat to keep your strength."

I looked at the steam rising from the bread.

"I am not interested in eating Elspeth. Take it away."

"But Sire you did not eat last night..."

"Take it away." I repeated.

My eyes fixed on the flower.

She sighed and retreated. The tray clinking as she left.

Then came Cassian. He did not knock. He entered with the familiarity of a best friend. His face etched with worry.

He walked over to the window. He pulled back the curtains. Letting the harsh morning light flood the room. I winced. I shielded my eyes.

"Alaric you look like a man who has been buried alive." Cassian said.

He sits on the edge of my bed.

"The palace is in an uproar. Isolde is whispering in the ears of the council. You are up here brooding. We need to plan. We need to find out what really happened to Daemon."

"I told you I am not interested in seeing anyone." I said.

My voice flat.

"I want to be left alone Cassian. Even by you."

"I'm not leaving you to rot in this room while that girl sits in a cell." Cassian argued.

"She told me to wait." I whispered.

I final looked at him.

"She told me the truth would come out. If I move now. I prove Isolde right. I become the tyrant who breaks the law for a woman. I am honoring her request. But it is killing me."

"Starving yourself won't help her." He said.

"Leave." I commanded.

Cassian looked at me for a long time. He saw the iron resolve in my eyes. The kind of resolve that usually won wars. He nodded slowly. He walked out. He closed the door behind him.

The hours bled into one another. I lost track of time. I sat in the silence. Listening to the heartbeat of the palace. I heard the distant shouting of guards. The clatter of wagons. And the whispers in the hall.

But all I wanted was to hear her voice.

Then the door opened again. This time it wasn't a servant or a friend.

It was Lady Elara. She walked in with her chin held high. She wore a dress that made her look like a jewel.

She had a practiced smile on her face. The kind she used when she wanted to play the role of the devoted consort. She clearly thought that with Sophie in prison, her position had been restored by default.

"Alaric." She said.

Her voice dripping with artificial sweetness.

She walked toward me. She reached out a hand to touch my shoulder.

"I heard of the terrible news. I am here to comfort you. We all know that common girl was trouble from the start. You must let her go. You must focus on those who truly love you."

I felt a surge of revulsion. It was so strong it made my skin crawl. I stood up. I loomed over her. I did not touch her. But the force of my presence made her stumble back.

"Comfort?" I asked.

My voice a dangerous snarl.

"You think I want comfort from you? You are a chameleon Elara. You change your colors to match whatever power is in the room. You have no loyalty. No heart. And no honor."

"I have been by your side for years!" She cried.

Her face twisting in anger.

"You have been by the throne's side." I corrected her.

"I would rather die of pain than receive a single word of comfort from you. Get out. Before I forget that I am supposed to be a civilized King."

She turned and fled. I watched her go. I felt nothing but hard clarity.

I sent the elders away again the next day. I rejected my morning meal. I rejected my afternoon meal. I rejected my evening meal.

For three days I touched nothing but water. My ribs began to show beneath my skin. My eyes grew sunken and dark. My wolf was restless. It howled in the back of my mind. It demanded meat. It demanded blood. It demanded Sophie.

I told myself that I would not attend to a single palace duty. I would not sign a single decree. I would not hear a single petition. I would rather starve since the woman who brought me peace was starving.

If she was to suffer. Then the King would suffer with her. If she was to be denied the comforts of life, then the Kingdom would be denied its ruler.

I stood by the window on the third night. I was looking out over the Blackwood forest.

The hunger was no longer a sharp pain. It was a dull ache that made my head light.

My body was consuming itself. Just as my heart was consuming my reason. I looked down at the courtyard. I saw the guards patrolling. They were all complicit. Every one of them who stood by and let her be dragged away.

Isolde thought she could break me by taking her. She thought she could force me back into my role by removing the "distraction."

She was wrong. She hadn't removed a distraction. She had removed the anchor.

"Let them wait." I whispered to the empty room.

"Let the council grumble. Let the elders plot. Let the kitchens grow cold."

I thought of the Young Prince Daemon. I felt concern for the boy. But it was overshadowed by the rage I felt for his mother.

If the boy died. Isolde would ensure Sophie followed him to the grave. I had to find a way to save them both. But the hunger was making it hard to think.

I looked back at the flower. It was wilting. Its edges were turning brown. I reached out. I touched a petal. It felt like dry paper.

"Everyone will suffer for what they've done to her." I promised the dying bloom.

"If she does not walk out of that prison soon. I will burn this palace to the ground with everyone inside it."

I sank back into my chair. The darkness of the room closing in on me.

I was the Alpha King. But without her.

I was just a beast in a cage of my own making.

Sophie's POV

Time in the dark does not move like it does in the light.

In the palace prison time is measured by the dripping of water. From a cracked ceiling. And the agonizing pulse of pain in my back.

I sat in that cold cell for three days. It was the longest three days of my life.

The floor was cold. It leached the warmth from my body till my bones felt like ice. My stomach had stopped growling. Now it was simply an aching void that made my head light. And my vision swim.

The darkness was not silent. It was filled with the ghosts of my own mind. And the very real torment of Queen Mother Isolde.

She visited me twice a day. Each time the heavy iron door groaned open. She didn't come to talk. She came to break me.

"Tell me the truth girl." She would hiss.

Her shadow stretching long across the cell wall.

"Tell me what poison you slipped into the food. Tell me who paid you. Was it the Northern clans?"

I would shake my head.

My voice a dry rasp.

"I didn't... poison him. I only cooked."

Then would come the strike.

Sometimes it was a lash across my shoulders. Reopening the wounds that had started to scab over in the humid air.

Sometimes it was a bucket of freezing water. Leaving me shivering and gasping on the floor.

She called it "cleansing the lies." But there were no lies to cleanse. I knew nothing. I was a chef who had been traded like a commodity. Now being slaughtered like a scapegoat.

In the long lonely hours between her visits. I thought of Alaric. My heart ached more than my body. Anytime his image surfaced in my mind.

I wondered if he was starving himself. I wondered if the wolf inside him was tearing him apart. He always want to protect me. I could feel his presence through the stone walls. A distant radiating heat.

I had begged him to stay his hand. To not become a murderer for my sake. If he killed Isolde. The kingdom would descend into a civil war that would burn everything we had built.

I had to believe my sacrifice. This waiting. This suffering was holding the peace together.

But as the third night bled into the fourth morning. My resolve was fraying like an old rope.

To keep my sanity. I picked up a small stick. I started drawing on the dusty floor. I didn't draw recipes or trophies. I drew the market. I drew the bronze vine clasp Alaric had pressed into my hand.

I drew the face of my father. His eyes crinkled with a smile. A smile I feared I would never see again. The act of creation was the only thing that kept me from drifting into the abyss of despair.

Suddenly the stillness of the dungeon was shattered. I heard a heavy rhythmic clanking. It wasn't the light hurried footsteps of Isolde.

It was the sound of many guards. Their armor jingling. Their boots striking the stone in unison.

My heart hammered against my ribs. Was this the end? Had the Prince died?

I squeezed my eyes shut. I prayed. I hoped Alaric wasn't behind this. I hoped he hadn't lost his mind and stormed the depths.

He listens to me. I had to believe he was still honoring my plea for restraint.

The iron bars groaned. A heavy key turned in the lock. The door swung open with a shriek of rusted metal.

I blinked against the sudden glare of multiple torches.

When my vision cleared. I didn't see Alaric. It wasn't Isolde. Standing at the entrance dressed in robes. Of royal gold and white that seemed to glow. It was the Grand Queen Mother.

The matriarch of the Blackwood lineage. The woman who held more power in her pinky finger than most kings held in their entire armies.

I bowed immediately. Or as much as my chains and my weakened state would allow.

My forehead touched the cold stone. The clanking guards stood in a semi-circle behind her. Their faces obscured by the shadows of their helms.

It appeared she had exerted her authority to collect the cell keys from Queen Mother Isolde.

The Grand Queen Mother did not speak at first. She walked into the center of the cell. Her silk skirts packing the dirt.

She looked at the drawings I made on the floor. Then she reached down. She didn't mind the filth. She placed her gloved hand under my chin. She forced me to look her in the eyes. Her gaze was sharp. Ancient. And terrifying.

"You look like a creature of the earth now Sophie." She said.

Her voice surprisingly melodic.

"Not the bright girl who served the Alpha his tea."

"Your Majesty." I whispered.

"Tell me." She said.

Her grip tightening slightly.

"Do you know what is happening to the Young Prince? Do you know why his breath fails and his skin turns the color of a bruised plum?"

I looked into those eyes. I refused to blink despite the tears of pain that threatened to fall.

"I have no idea Your Majesty. I cooked for him with love. I tasted every bite. If there is a something in his blood it did not come from my kitchen."

She stared at me for a long agonizing minute. The guards remained as silent as statues. I felt as though she were reading the very map of my soul.

"I believe you." She said softly.

The breath I had been holding escaped me. It was a shuddering sob. But the relief was short-lived.

She stood up. She reached into the folds of her golden robes. She brought out a small silver dagger. The blade was slender.

She bent down again. Her face inches from mine.

"I will release you from this prison Sophie. I will unlock these chains. I will let you walk freely."

"Thank you." I breathed.

With hope surging through me like a ghost.

"Do not thank me yet." She interrupted.

"I release you on one condition. You have three days. In three days you must find out the truth. The truth of what happened to the Young Prince. You either find the cure. Or you find the culprit."

She took my hand. She pressed the silver dagger into my palm. My fingers curled around it instinctively.

"If you cannot find the truth after those three days." She continued.

Her voice turning as cold as the steel.

"You will use this blade. Do not wait for any of the guards. Do not wait for the judgement of the executioner. If you fail to save the Prince. You must save your own honor by ending your life."

I stared at the dagger. It weight felt like a mountain. She was giving me freedom. But this freedom was tied to a death sentence.

"You are free to go." She said.

She signaled the guards. A gesture that showed they should unshackle my ankles.

I stood up. My legs shaking so violently I nearly fell. I looked at the Grand Queen Mother. Then at the silver blade in my hand.

I walked out of the prison cell. My heart heavy with a terrifying realization.

I was given a second chance. But my life was now on the line. For a mystery I did not understand.

I was walking out of a prison of stone. But into a prison of time.

Sophie POV

I walked away from the prison. My legs felt like lead. The silver dagger sat heavy in my pocket.

I reached my quarters. The air smelled of stale dust. I stripped off my torn clothes. I washed the grime and dried blood from my skin.

The warm water stung my wounds. I dried myself. I chose a new outfit. It was the blue silk Alaric bought at the market. I touched the fabric. I remembered the way he caught me when I fell. He looked at me with soft eyes.

A sharp thought interrupted my memory. The Grand Queen Mother gave me a deadline. Three days. My time started now. I could not waste a minute.

I headed to the royal kitchen. The stone floor felt solid under my boots. I pushed the heavy doors open. The heat hit my face.

Martha saw me first. She dropped her wooden spoon. She ran to me. The other chefs followed. They hugged me. They cried.

"Sophie! You are alive!" Martha cried.

She squeezed my shoulders.

"Who released you from that hole? Did the King finally break the door down? Did they find the real culprit who hurt the boy?"

"The Grand Queen Mother released me." I said. My voice was raspy.

"The Grand Queen Mother?" Martha asked.

She stepped back. She looked frightened.

"She never interferes. What did she say to you? What is really wrong with the young prince? The servants say his skin is turning blue. They say he finds it hard to breathe."

"I will explain everything to you later Martha." I said.

I looked around the kitchen. Everything looked the same. But I felt different.

"I have a task to finish. I need to know about Alaric. Where is he?"

Elspeth stepped forward from the pantry. She looked tired. Her eyes were red. She wiped her hands on her apron. She looked at me with pity.

"The King has not eaten in days." Elspeth said.

"He rejected every tray we sent. He sent back the morning eggs. He sent back the roasted lamb. He sent back the night wine. He told us he would rather starve."

My heart tightened.

"He is starving himself for me." I whispered quietly.

"Since you are out now he might consider eating something." Elspeth said.

"He only listens to you. They said he nearly killed his Step Mother because of you."

"We must prepare a restoration meal." I said. I ignored what she had said.

"He needs to regain his strength immediately. He cannot help me if he cannot stand."

I moved to the prep table.

I gathered ingredients. I chose a deep clay pot. I poured in a quart of clean spring water. I added three large beef marrow bones. I chopped two stalks of wild celery. I added a handful of bitter herbs.

"Add the honey now." I told Martha.

I stirred in two large spoonfuls of raw honey. I added a pinch of sea salt to balance his fluids.

I let the broth simmer until it turned a rich gold color. I added two egg yolks at the very end.

We finished the food. The broth smelled of salt and sweet herbs. I placed it on a silver tray. I walked to the Alpha's chamber. Martha and Elspeth followed me.

Guards stood at the door. They looked surprised to see me. I nodded to them.

Elspeth knocked on the thick wood.

"Your Majesty your morning meal is ready." She said.

"I thought I told you I am not interested in eating any food!" Alaric growled from inside.

His voice sounded thin. It sounded cracked.

"You promised me you would not starve yourself." I said.

The silence lasted one second. Then I heard a heavy weight hitting the floor. He was running. The floor shook. The locks clicked fast. The door flew open.

Alaric stood there. He looked thin. His face was pale. His eyes were dark and sunken. He grabbed my hand. He dragged me past the door. He did not use force. He was desperate.

He pulled me into his arms. He hugged me so tight I could not breathe. He kissed me. The kiss felt like fire and relief. I heard the chefs gasp in the hall. I heard the guards shift their feet.

I realized the truth then. A tyrant is now in love with me. He is the King of Blackwood. It will be very hard for him to let me leave this place.

I looked at Alaric. My three days were ticking away. I had a king to feed and a prince to save.