𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐀𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐨𝐫

Chapter 4

𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐩𝐞

Locked up as I was, time passed agonizingly slow. Days felt like weeks, weeks felt like months. I told myself I deserved it. That much was true. Still, it was no wonder that some of the prisoners went insane.

The synchronized march of soldiers shook me from my thoughts. A half dozen men with curved swords at their hips filed into the room. The soldier at the front, who also looked the youngest, held a ring of keys that jingled as he walked. Was there an execution today?

The man holding the keys conversed quietly with one of his comrades. The other guard nodded, and he turned his eyes to me.

I sucked in a breath. His keys were like alarm bells ringing in my ears. No. No, that can't be right. I wasn't scheduled for execution. Or release, at least not for a long while. He stopped outside my cell, and I lifted my gaze to meet his.

Familiarity sent a shiver down my spine. I didn't know him, but I must have seen his chilling blue eyes before. Frosty, crystal blue like those of the beasts in my dreams. His jet black hair was combed neatly back, a stark contrast to his pale features.

I swallowed my fear deep beneath a mask of indifference, clenching my teeth and standing taller so we were eye-to-eye. Almost. He was still taller than I, a few inches feeling like miles towering above my head.

"Calliope Vendelle?"

"You really need to ask? Or can't you read?" I jerked my chin at my name, engraved on a metal plate outside my cell.

His response was flat. "Protocol."

I flashed him a sarcastic smile. "I suppose you intend to relieve me of my head now?"

The lock of my cage fell away from its chains, its dull clang echoing through the dungeon. "If the Council of Elders decides so, then yes." He swung open the door. All I could do was stare. The Council of Elders?

I was going to have a trial.

More locks clicked free as he turned his keys inside of them. My chains fell away, curling at my feet like giant silver snakes. Rings of raw skin encircled my wrists where they once had been. It felt wrong, like I was dreaming it, but it felt good.

As I was led down the hall, iron cuffs still dragging around my ankles, curious faces peered at me from behind their own bars. They all wished it was them walking out of this miserable place instead. I had wished the same for weeks. But it wasn't right. None of the captive faces should be let free until we had served our time—even if for some that meant a lifetime.

The first time I had been taken through these passageways was a blur. One moment I was outside the fortress, the next I was chained up inside it. Between that were sobs and struggles and memories that didn't add up to much. I had failed my king, and through that, my whole nation. Worse, I had failed my family. I had lost them, and it was my fault.

Though I still thought the trial was a chance I didn't deserve, my heart fluttered in my chest realizing I might see my sister so soon—if the trial went well, of course. She was the only blood I had left, and I loved her far more than I loved myself. If I lost her someday too . . .

Burning.

Smoke.

Wolves.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to shake off the memory. It was the past now. The present was the clunking of my steps in a dark hallway, and the future was Eva.