Chapter 146

Lila

I curled deeper into the window alcove, knees tucked to my chest, arms wrapped around them. The late afternoon light spilled through the glass in dull gray ribbons.

The room was quiet except for the tick of the clock and the occasional rustle of wind against the leaded windows. I’d barely moved since morning. Every time I did, I felt like I was being tracked by eyes I couldn’t see.

A soft knock came, and I felt the sluggish stirring of Ruby. Not the guards, then; the knock was too confident.

The door opened and Damon stepped inside carrying a tray with warm buttered bread a few slices of fresh pear. He’d trimmed the edges himself. I could tell because they were rough and uneven.

“I brough you a snack, you should eat something,” he said, setting it down on the low table. His tone was casual, but I could hear the strain and worry in it.

He looked tired. His shirt was clean, but his eyes were shadowed, and his hands lingered near the tray for a moment like he was uncertain whether to stay. Or if I would want him to stay.

He didn’t meet my gaze.

“Thank you,” I said softly.

He finally looked up. “How are you feeling today?”

“Better.” A lie. My whole body still ached. My wolf was still quiet. My chest felt like it had been hollowed out and filled with lead.

I swallowed. “Damon?”

He paused, half-turned toward me, brow raised. “Yes, Lila?”

“Why are there more guards outside my door than there were yesterday?”

A beat of silence stretched between us.

“Just a precaution,” he said. “There was some unrest, but I’m handling it. I didn’t want you alone if something happened and I, or Ronan, were occupied.”

“But I’ve always walked the palace freely.”

He nodded once. “And you will again. Soon.”

My throat tightened. “Did something happen?”

“No.”

His response was too quick to be anything other than a lie. My chest tightened even further around the lead. There was another question that had been burning to be asked.

“Have you heard anything about my mother?”

His hands stilled briefly before sliding into his pockets.

“No news,” he said. “Which means she should be stable.”

The second lie seemed to come easier than the first. But I nodded once. Slowly.

Damon walked toward me and crouched beside the alcove, reaching for my hand. I let him take it. His fingers wrapped around mine, warm and solid. But I didn’t feel safe. I felt like a caged pet.

He pressed his lips to my knuckles. “I’m doing everything I can.” Damon stood. “Rest. I’ll check on you later.”

He turned toward the door, and just before it closed behind him, he glanced back. A smile flickered and then he was gone.

The latch clicked. I sat there, unmoving, staring at the untouched tray.

You’re not protecting me. The words formed before I could stop them. You’re keeping me.

And that was worse. I had asked him for honesty. I had begged him for it. And he’d given me the opposite for some misguided sense of protection.

For the first time I saw the Tyrant King that I had been warned about.

If Damon wouldn’t tell me the truth… I would find it myself.

I waited until the corridors fell quiet.

Not the hush of nightfall that came with candles dimmed and soft conversation; no, the real quiet. After the last patrol, after the clink of armor disappeared down the hall. When even the guards began to believe it was too late for real trouble.

I moved carefully, wrapping my shawl tighter around my shoulders. My feet were bare, silent against the chilled floor. Every breath I took felt too loud, too alive.

Ruby remained quiet inside me, but her awareness pressed against mine, dull and uneasy, but as determined as I was.

I’d never used this route before, but if there was ever a time, it was now.

There was a narrow hall behind the tapestry in this room. It was a servant’s path meant for linen deliveries and discreet exits. I didn’t think the nobles knew about these servant access to their rooms.

And I was certain most of the guards had forgotten they existed. But I wasn’t really one of them and would never forget something so important.

I pressed my fingers to the edge of the tapestry and slipped behind it.

The wood panel that disguised the old door was smooth and faintly warped. I ran my hand along the edge and found the seam.

But it didn’t give.

I frowned and pressed harder.

Still nothing.

There shouldn’t have been a lock. Not here. I dropped to one knee and ran my hand along the base.

Steel. A bolt had been added. Reinforced from the other side.

The breath stilled in my throat.

I tried again, pushing, pulling, testing the frame. Nothing moved, it was sealed up tight.

I rose too quickly and had to brace myself against the wall, dizziness flashing behind my eyes. I waited for it to pass, then turned and moved quickly toward the main doors.

It had been unlatched before. Now? Bolted. From the outside.

My throat felt dry, and my limbs began to tremble. I ran towards the windows in a desperate attempt to taste any kind of freedom.

Latched. Blocked. Every path, every shadowed turn, every forgotten door… barred.

I froze.

This wasn’t protection or a precaution.

It was a prison.

Oh, there were no chains or magic cells or keys jingling at a guard’s hip. But it was a prison. A fancy one, but it was a prison all the same.

I turned, slowly, until I knocked on my door and a guard’s voice filtered in through the door.

“Yes, my Lady?”

“I’d like to go for a walk today.”

There was a brief hesitation before the locked clicked open and the door followed suit. I held my head high and walked past the four guards at my door, turning to the right.

The end of the corridor had two more guards blocking a closed door.

I turned back and walked quickly down the opposite hall, only to find the stairs flanked by another two guards, blocking that direction as well.

“Is there a reason,” I said softly to the warrior on the left, “that every passage from this wing is sealed?”

He didn’t look at me, kept his eyes trained ahead. “For your safety, my Lady.”

I stared at him.

My voice dropped. “Did His Majesty order this?”

The silence told me what the guards clearly wouldn’t.

I turned and walked slowly back to my room. I kept my pace steady; running would mean panic. And I was afraid if I went there I would fall apart and lose sight of the anger that was building inside me.

The walls of the palace I once thought I could survive in were folding in around me like a gilded cage.

I reached my room, and a guard shut the door behind me. The click of the lock solidified this nightmare into reality.

I sat on the floor, back to the wall, staring at the low-burning fire in the hearth until it blurred into nothing.

Damon said he loved me. He said I was his mate and would be able to walk freely. But tonight, he had proven otherwise.

I wasn’t his equal. I was his prisoner.

And that was unacceptable.