Chapter 6 Mark of restraint

The cell door creaked open for the second time that day.

Lena did not bother looking up. She had already learned to read footsteps. Darius walked like a verdict. These steps were light, quick, and nervous.

She finally raised her head and found a young girl in the doorway, balancing a tray of food. A cuff circled the girl's ankle. A slave, like her.

"Take it back. I refuse to eat," Lena rasped, hoarse but stubborn.

The girl set the tray down and crouched in front of her, meeting her glare without flinching.

"Luna."

"I am not your Luna," Lena snapped.

The girl sighed, and it sounded like a sigh she had practiced many times. "Forgive me, but I cannot afford to argue about titles. If you starve, the head maid will starve me, and then probably flog me for fun. You are my responsibility now. I am Milicent, your personal maid." Her eyes were pleading. "Please. I am rather fond of my back."

Lena looked at her properly then. Thin wrists. Bitten fingernails. A face that had learned to apologize before it was accused.

Her anger faltered. She knew this girl. She had been this girl, scrubbing floors in the Crimson Moon Pack, cringing at the head maid's footsteps, going to bed hungry as a lesson. Even that hell had never come close to last night. That had not been punishment. It had been unmaking.

Without another word, she dragged the tray closer and ate.

The bread was warm. She nearly cried over it, which was humiliating.

Silence stretched between them until Milicent cleared her throat. "When you are finished, I will run you a bath and show you to your room."

Lena froze, the spoon halfway to her mouth.

"My... room?"

She had never had one. Not once. Her whole life had been pantries, hay, and whatever corner nobody wanted.

Before Milicent could answer, a sharp voice cut across the cell.

"That will not be necessary."

Beta Cedric stepped in, filling the doorway with the kind of authority that did not need to raise its voice. Milicent dropped to her knees, forehead nearly touching the floor.

"Name?"

"Milicent, my lord."

"Your mistress goes to the healer first," Cedric said. "She clearly needs one."

Milicent glanced at Lena. The swollen eyes. The puffy cheeks. The raw, unhealed gash on her wrist. She looked like a corpse that had forgotten to lie down.

"As you wish, my lord," Milicent whispered.

~~~~~~~

The road wound out of the castle, and for the first time, Lena saw the kingdom.

Milicent trailed behind her. Cedric walked at her side, silent as a gravestone.

Beyond the walls, the pack's territory was breathtaking. Streets stretched far and wide, lined with elegant homes grander than anything in the Crimson Moon Pack. Even the houses on the outskirts gleamed with fine craftsmanship, carved and gabled like noble estates. Whoever rules this place has more gold than mercy, Lena thought.

Heads turned as she passed. Whispers followed.

"That is her."

"The Voss girl."

"Gods, she is smaller than I expected."

She pulled her hood lower.

They stopped before a large building. Bold letters over the door read: The Healer's House.

They stepped inside without a word.

The air was thick with herbs and incense. A beautiful woman stood at the counter, attending a customer, and lifted her head as they entered.

Cold crawled down Lena's spine.

That witch.

The same violet-eyed woman who had stood over her last night with a black dagger and sealed her fate to the Alpha.

The healer's face gave nothing away. She bowed slightly. "What brings the Luna to my humble home?"

Lena swallowed.

"A check-up," Cedric said.

Lena slowly pushed back her hood.

The room went still.

Every eye in the healer's house turned toward her, burning with hatred. A woman near the shelves actually spat on the floor.

The healer barely blinked. She simply turned toward the stairs. "Come with me."

They followed her to a dim room that smelled of dried herbs and strong oils. A narrow bed sat in the center, its sheets clean, and wooden shelves crowded with vials, scrolls, and strange, twisting plants.

"Sit," the healer said.

Lena hesitated. Cedric shot her a look. She sat, and every muscle in her body filed a complaint.

The healer's sharp eyes swept over her face, then her arms. She seized Lena's wrist and turned it over. The deep cut gaped, still raw and fresh.

Milicent gasped.

The healer ran a cool finger along the wound. "This should have closed by now." A pause. "How curious."

Lena yanked her hand away. "There is nothing curious about it. I told your Alpha. I am not a werewolf."

The healer smirked, as though Lena had said something very funny and very naive.

"Oh, I know exactly what has been done to you."

Lena stiffened.

The woman turned to the shelves and ran her fingers across the bottles until she found one: a vial of deep red liquid. She swirled it slowly. "You were prepared for this, were you not? Your mother made certain of it. The Moon Mark of Restraint. Cruel work, but effective."

Lena's stomach twisted. She had no fucking idea what any of that meant.

The healer turned back, eyes sharp and calculating. "Tell me, girl. Do you honestly think sealing your wolf will save you?"

"I do not know what you are babbling about, witch!"

The healer's eyes flickered. "Witch." She let out a dry chuckle. "I am a healer, child. And a girl who was born with a wolf in her veins should know the difference."

"I was born human," Lena said through her teeth.

"If you say so."

Lena did not answer. She did not trust her voice.

The healer stepped closer. "Where does it hurt?"

Lena's throat tightened. She meant to say nothing. Instead, in a low voice, the truth leaked out. "Last night. My lungs felt like they were being ripped open. My heart was tearing to shreds." Her hand curled against her chest. "My head. It felt like it would split in two."

The healer sighed. She knew precisely what that meant. She said nothing about it.

She uncorked the vial. "Drink."

Lena scowled. "I do not trust anything that comes from your hands."

"Suit yourself." The healer shrugged. "But if you intend to survive in this pack, you will need strength. This will take the edge off."

Lena hesitated. Every inch of her throbbed. Her wrist burned. Her limbs felt like wet sand.

If she wanted me dead, she had a dagger last night.

One sip. Just one.

She took the vial with trembling fingers and tipped it to her lips.

The moment the liquid touched her tongue, there was fire.

Heat tore through her veins like lightning in a bottle. Lena gasped, and her back arched off the bed.

"Luna!" Milicent lunged forward.

The healer only watched, unbothered, arms folded.

Lena's vision swam. Her breath came in ragged pants. What the hell is happening to me?

Darkness crept in at the edges.

Then everything went black.