8

Aprils POV.
The world was dark, a heavy kind of darkness that pressed in on all sides, suffocating and endless. I wasn’t sure if it was night or day; time had lost its meaning after the execution. The only thing I knew was pain-constant, aching pain that had settled deep in my bones. It was all that kept me company in the cold, damp dungeon.
I don’t remember passing out, but when I woke, it was to the sound of footsteps echoing off the stone walls. My eyelids felt heavy, glued shut by exhaustion and grief. When I finally forced them open, the first thing I saw was a man crouching beside me, his brow furrowed in concern.
He was one of the guards; I recognized that much, though his face was younger than most of the others. His dark hair was slightly tousled, and his blue eyes flickered with an expression I hadn’t seen in a long time: kindness.
“April,” he said softly, reaching out a tentative hand to touch my shoulder. I instantly move back and say nothing.
“April, you need to drink something. You’ve been out for two days,” he said after several minutes of silence. He once again tried to reach out to me and touch me.
The words didn’t quite make sense to me. Two days? It felt like it had only been minutes since I collapsed after letting Snow grieve in her own way; it felt like I was still trapped in that endless cycle of nightmares where I saw my parents’ heads falling over and over. I recoiled from his touch, dragging myself backward until my back hit the stone wall.
“Don’t touch me,” I rasped, my voice breaking on the last word. It was dry and cracked like I hadn’t used it in years. The guard drew back his hand immediately, his expression shifting to something softer-pity, maybe.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I just… You need to drink this. Please.” He held out a small cup of water toward me, his gaze imploring. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
Hurt me. The words sounded almost absurd. I’d already been hurt in every possible way; there wasn’t much left for him or anyone else to take from me. But my throat was parched, and the mere thought of water sent a sharp pang of longing through me. I hesitated, staring at the cup in his hand as though it might be poisoned, before finally reaching out to take it.
“You didn’t poison me, right?” I ask hesitantly while holding the cup of water.
“Of course not,” he says instantly. “Please just have some,” he adds, pleading.
“Alright,” I say.
The water was cool against my dry lips, and I drank it greedily, nearly choking on it in my desperation. The guard didn’t move; he just watched, his expression one of quiet patience. When I finished, I dropped the cup to the ground, my hands shaking. “Why are you here?” I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper. “Why do you care?”
He glanced around as if checking to ensure we were alone, then lowered his voice. “I’m here because… because you shouldn’t be alone. Not after what happened.”
“What happened?” I repeated bitterly, a hollow laugh escaping me. “You mean the execution? Or that I’m about to lose my wolf because of some twisted sense of justice?” My voice cracked, and I hated how weak and puny I felt.
The guard’s eyes flashed with something-anger or maybe regret. “I saw what happened,” he said quietly. “I was there.”
Of course, he was. They were all there, every single member of the pack who could spare a moment to watch the spectacle of my parents’ deaths. I couldn’t keep the venom from my voice. “You watched and did nothing. Just like the rest of them.”
He flinched at that, the words clearly hitting their mark. “You’re right,” he admitted after a long pause. “I didn’t do anything, and I don’t know if I could have stopped it even if I’d tried. But I-I don’t think it was right. What they did to your parents… It wasn’t justice. It was cruelty.”
I stared at him, my heart twisting painfully. “You think that changes anything?” I asked, my voice trembling with barely suppressed rage. “You think that just because you feel sorry now, it makes a difference? They’re gone, and nothing you say or do will bring them back.”
“I know,” he replied softly, his eyes never leaving mine. “I know that nothing I can do will make it right. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to stand by and do nothing now.”
I scoffed, the sound bitter and harsh. “Why bother? I’m as good as dead anyway. Once they take my wolf, there won’t be anything left.”
“I don’t believe that,” he said firmly, his voice filled with a quiet determination. “And I don’t think you believe it, either.”
His words stung, cutting through the numbness that had settled over me. I wanted to argue, to tell him that he was wrong, that there was nothing left of me worth saving. But the truth was, some small, desperate part of me still clung to hope, even if it was just a flicker, even if I hated myself for it.
He must have seen something shift in my expression because he moved closer, his voice softer now, almost pleading. “April, let me help you,” he said. “I don’t know if I can stop the ritual, but I can try to get you out of here before the day of the ritual arrives, to keep you safe.”
A bitter laugh escaped me before I could stop it. “Safe? There’s no such thing as safe for someone like me anymore. I’m a “traitor’s” daughter, a rejected mate. The whole pack would rather see me dead.”
He shook his head. “Not everyone,” he said quietly. “Some of us know that what happened wasn’t your fault. You didn’t choose any of this.”
I felt a lump form in my throat, and I swallowed hard, pushing back the tears that threatened to spill over. “Then why didn’t you do anything to help my parents?” The question slipped out before I could stop it, and I hated how it sounded, like a child begging for answers that would never come.
His face fell, and for a moment, he didn’t speak. “I wish I had,” he whispered finally. “I wish I could go back and change things. But I can’t. All I can do now is try to help you.”
Silence hung between us, heavy and thick. I wanted to scream at him, to tell him to leave me alone, that I didn’t need his pity. But the truth was, I was so tired. So broken. And there was something in his eyes, a genuine regret, that made me hesitate. Maybe he wasn’t like the others. Maybe, just maybe, he really did want to help.
“For that to be possible you need to let me help you , you need to trust me April,” He adds after I go silent for a while.
Did he just say trust?
“What did you just say?” I ask in disbelief.
“I’m asking you to trust me April. Trust me to help you out of this,” he says sincerely.
My mind goes blank, and I’m speechless for the first time in a long time.
I didn’t know if I could trust him or if I should. But for the first time since my parents’ deaths, there was a tiny flicker of light in the darkness, and I wasn’t sure if I could afford to let it go.
“Fine,” I whispered, my gaze locked on the stone floor. “I’ll let you help me. But if this is some kind of trick if you betray me…” I trailed off, unsure of what threat I could make in my state.
The guard’s expression softened, and a small, sad smile touched his lips. “I won’t,” he promised. I’m not here to hurt you, April. I swear it.”
I didn’t know if I believed him, but I had nothing left to lose. So, for now, I would let him try.
A little help never hurt nobody.
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