Chapter 146
ELENA
The car hummed steadily beneath us, eating up the endless miles of asphalt stretching toward the northern border.
I sat stiffly in the back seat, arms crossed tightly over my chest, watching the pines blur past the windows in shadowy smears.
Derek sat beside me, his presence filling the small space even though he hadn't said much in hours.
When I'd told him about Maggie’s request, I hadn’t expected him to insist on coming with me. But he had.
And though I hadn’t fought him on it—some small part of me grateful for his steadiness—the tension between us was sharp enough to cut glass.
Neither of us could pretend things were normal.
Not after what the Priestess had said. Not after the soul-binding truth that still sang between us whenever we so much as glanced at each other.
The silence stretched long and brittle. Even Nox, usually restless and brimming with commentary, stayed unnervingly quiet.
I shifted in my seat, trying to unkink the muscles in my lower back. It had taken all day to get here.
The maximum security facility wasn’t close to anything—it was buried deep in the mountains, miles from the nearest pack village.
Isolation. Security.
Control.
All the things the Alpha Council Guard valued most.
By the time the car finally crunched up the long gravel drive to the iron gates, my nerves were raw from exhaustion and hours of stewing in my own thoughts.
We climbed out, stretching stiff muscles, and approached the main checkpoint.
The guard at the booth was a thick-shouldered woman with a buzzed haircut and piercing blue eyes. She eyed us like we were suspicious packages left unattended in an airport.
“We’re here to see Maggie Thorn,” I said, forcing my voice to stay calm.
The woman didn’t blink.
“Visiting hours are over,” she said flatly. “You’ll have to return tomorrow.”
I opened my mouth to argue—but Derek beat me to it.
He stepped forward, pulling himself to his full imposing height.
“I’m the Alpha of Silverclaw,” he said, voice low and hard. “And this is the Princess of Moonstone. I suggest you make an exception.”
The woman’s eyebrows barely twitched.
“We follow Alpha Council protocols here, sir," she said crisply. "Not regional pack politics."
Derek's jaw flexed.
For a second, I thought he might actually try to pull rank harder—but then he exhaled sharply and stepped back.
Smart.
The last thing we needed was to get thrown off the property altogether.
The woman’s expression didn’t change.
"Return tomorrow. Gates open at eight."
With that, she turned back into her booth and buzzed the gates firmly shut behind her.
I blew out a breath and rubbed a hand over my face.
"Great," I muttered.
Derek shot me a sideways glance, his own frustration barely contained.
"Let’s find a hotel," he said. "And something to eat."
The hotel was a low, nondescript building tucked into a bend of the main road, its neon sign buzzing faintly against the deepening dusk.
We booked two rooms without incident.
The clerk didn’t even blink at the sight of two wolves checking in together but asking for separate keys.
Small mercies.
After tossing our bags in the rooms—side by side, the thin walls offering no real privacy—we wandered across the lot to a diner that smelled of burnt coffee and fried food.
Neither of us spoke much at first. We slid into a booth by the window, menus sagging between us.
I ordered something at random. Derek ordered coffee. Black.
The silence between us wasn’t uncomfortable exactly.
Just... heavy.
Like we were both carrying too many things neither of us knew how to put down.
When the waitress disappeared to get our food, I leaned back in the booth, staring out the window into the falling night.
"I’m worried," I said quietly.
"Worried about Maggie?"
I nodded.
"About what they might do to her. What they might pin on her," I added. "And about..." I trailed off, pressing my lips together.
"Everything," I finished lamely.
Derek sipped his coffee, watching me over the rim of the mug.
"You've been carrying a lot alone," he said.
I gave a dry laugh.
"Welcome to being the Moonstone Princess," I muttered.
He smiled faintly.
"You need a vacation."
I arched an eyebrow at him.
"Last time I tried to take a vacation, I was held hostage and nearly lost our son."
He winced. "Fair point."
The corner of my mouth twitched despite myself.
"Besides," I said more seriously, "there's no real escape from this. From any of it. Whoever tried to sever our bond... they're still out there. And Maggie—"
I cut myself off, swallowing hard.
Derek didn't press.
He just let me sit there, unraveling in small, exhausted pieces.
When dinner came, I picked at my food more than ate it.
Derek didn’t comment.
We finished in silence and walked back across the parking lot, the night cool and damp with impending rain.
At my door, I hesitated, keycard in hand.
Derek lingered beside me, his hands tucked loosely into his jacket pockets.
The air between us was charged again.
Not with anger.
Not with frustration.
With something softer.
Something older.
Something dangerous.
He shifted his weight slightly, like he wanted to step closer but was holding himself back by sheer force of will.
"If you..." he cleared his throat. "If you wanted company tonight... I'd stay."
His voice was low, rough at the edges.
Not a demand.
Not a seduction.
An offer.
Simple. Honest. Devastating.
Nox howled inside me, clawing at the walls of my chest.
Yes, she screamed. Yes, yes, yes.
But I closed my eyes and shook my head.
"I think..." I said softly, "I need some time."
He nodded immediately, without hurt, without pressure.
"I understand."
The words wrapped around me gently.
I touched his wrist lightly, a fleeting brush.
"Thank you," I whispered.
He nodded again, stepped back, and walked away into the night without looking back.
I let myself into my room and collapsed onto the bed without even pulling the covers down.
Sleep came fitfully—torn and jagged, full of restless dreams I couldn’t remember when I woke.
The next morning, we returned to the prison.
Security was tighter this time—bristling guards, dogs that sniffed us up and down, multiple layers of ID checks.
I hated every second of it.
The lead guard was a tall, broad-shouldered man with deep scars running along his jawline.
He escorted us through the layers of locked doors and finally into a sterile visitation room.
Before we could enter, he paused, holding up a hand.
"You’re Moonstone?" he asked, eyes on me.
I nodded.
He held up a small silver dagger in a clear evidence bag.
"This was found on the prisoner," he said. "You have the option to press trespassing and attempted assault charges."
I frowned at the dagger.
Something about it tugged at the back of my mind.
Familiar.
Wrong.
But the memory wouldn’t surface.
"I’m not pressing charges," I said slowly. "But I can’t speak for my father."
The guard nodded stiffly and unlocked the door.
Inside, Maggie sat at a bolted-down table, heavy chains binding her wrists and ankles to the chair.
I flinched.
"Is all that really necessary?" I asked, appalled.
The guard gave me a look that brooked no argument.
"For everyone’s safety," he said simply.
Derek stepped forward, bristling, but I touched his arm lightly.
"Do you mind waiting outside?" I asked softly.
He hesitated—then, reluctantly, nodded.
"I’ll be right here."
The guards withdrew with him, the door hissing shut behind them.
Leaving me alone with Maggie.
She looked up at me with hollow, red-rimmed eyes.
She looked like hell.
Thin. Pale.
Her hair a tangled mess around her face.
Slowly, carefully, I crossed the room and crouched beside her, ignoring the clinking of chains.
I reached out and touched her arm gently.
"Are they treating you well?" I asked.
Her mouth trembled.
"Do you have an attorney?"
Tears spilled over her cheeks.
"What’s going on, Maggie?"
She sobbed harder, her shoulders shaking violently.
And then—broken and desperate—she lifted her head and looked at me.
"Oh, Mia—" she choked.
"Elena," I corrected gently.
But she just shook her head, tears streaming.
"I am in so much trouble," she whispered.
