Chapter 3

Eirene’s POV

I stirred awake, to only feel every part of me aching from the hours spent curled on the damp, unforgiving floor.

How long was I unconscious?

What happened?

Why didn’t they execute me?

My eyes opened slowly, the dim light stinging as my surroundings came into focus—bare walls, stone slick with moisture, and shadows that seemed to stretch endlessly.

The cell. I was back here.

I didn’t bother moving. What was the point? Even the thought of sitting up felt like too much effort.The tattered shawl clung to me like a second skin, rough and threadbare, barely shielding me from the cold.

My legs, bruised and exposed, were drawn to my chest in a desperate attempt to hold onto some semblance of warmth.

My teeth chattered uncontrollably, the sound echoing faintly in the silence of the cell. Each breath I drew felt like a struggle, the icy air clawing at my lungs, making me shiver harder. The dried blood on my skin pulled painfully with every movement, a constant reminder of what had been done to me.

I closed my eyes again, as if shutting out the world would make the biting cold, the gnawing hunger disappear. But it didn’t. It never did.

I tried to go back to sleep but my mind was restless again.

His face flashes in front of me. And that’s when I remember our last encounter, one night before my execution.

He had come to visit me.

To say his last goodbye.

(Flashback)

The chains bit into my wrists, cutting deeper with every useless thrash. My arms ached, pulled taut above my head with chains, my body swaying with every ragged breath.

The hood over my face suffocated me, trapping the cloying scent of blood and sweat as it clung to my skin. Every shallow inhale seared my throat.

The dungeon reeked of death—decaying hope and lingering vengeance mingling in the air.

It pressed down on me, suffocating, yet familiar, as if I’d been born to endure this endless agony.

This was coming. I should have known.

In the end, murderers can’t be heroes, right?

Mother’s laughter, fleeting as a spring breeze.

Father’s unwavering mocking voice, questioning my very existence.

The sound of Caden’s betrayal.

The memories mocked me, slipping away the moment I tried to cling to them.

"Speak, you filth!" the interrogator , Wilson snarled. His voice was hoarse, exhausted, but the cruelty never faltered.

"Why did you kill them?"

Another strike, the whip lashing against my back like the crack of thunder, but I stayed silent.

What could I say?

That they deserved them. I never killed an innocent?

Pain was my shadow now, relentless but powerless to conquer me.

I would not break.

I refuse to even make a sound, not that the gag in my mouth would let me. And it irked him.

Wilson is the infamous punisher in the royal jail, known for torturing criminals till they cry and beg him.

But that’s the thing, his ego had been bruised with my silence.

No criminal had ever stood so long against him.

"Confess, you piece of shit!"

The whip bit harder this time, slicing through flesh with feral intent. The iron tang of blood filled my mouth as I bit my lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a scream.

"You’ll regret this insolence," he growled.

But I heard the strain beneath his fury. His rage had become desperation, each blow losing its conviction.

Good. Let him tire. Let him fail.

No one could break Phoenix.

And he? He was just an executor.

Eirene may cower, but Phoenix will die with head held high.

I closed my eyes beneath the hood, tuning out his curses, his threats. The darkness was kinder than his voice, offering refuge even as the chains around my wrists carved into my skin and blood seeped down from the cuts on my back to trail my legs.

And then, the world stilled.

"Enough."

A voice—deep, commanding, lethal—sliced through the air like the sharpest blade.

Wilson’s boots faltered. "Y-Your Highness..."

Silence followed, heavy and palpable. Then came the measured, deliberate footsteps, their echo a harbinger of doom.

He was here.

Zachary.

I recognized him without needing to see.

His presence was a storm—oppressive, all-consuming, impossible to ignore. The chains around me felt tighter, the air thinner.

And I gulp.

"Get out," he commanded, his tone leaving no room for defiance.

Wilson, the cruel executor, stumbled over himself as he obeyed, the dungeon door slamming shut behind him.

Now, it was just us.

But it felt like we were miles apart.

The blood in my veins turned to ice despite me trying to be indifferent, he approached, the sound of his boots reverberating like a death knell.

I couldn’t see him, but I felt him.

Every step he took sent a shiver crawling up my spine, dread coiling in my stomach.

"Comfortable?" His voice was low, mocking, laced with venom. "I hope your stay here has been satisfactory."

The hood clung to my lips, amplifying the sound of my ragged breaths. I stayed silent, biting down on my gag to keep the trembling at bay.

He was circling around me like a predator, I could feel it.

"No last-minute arrangements of wolfsbane or silver—I’m afraid the council has become rather protective of werewolf rights recently."

I heard the faint smirk in his tone, the cruelty barely concealed beneath the surface.And that’s when I realised.

I had lost the Zach I have been hoping for.

This man? Was the werewolf King.

The side of him I never got to be on the receiving end.

I tried to put on a brave face.

But some things were involuntarily.

Like the reaction of my body to his presence.

My body betrayed me, tensing as his footsteps drew nearer. The chains rattled when I instinctively pulled against them, my wrists screaming in protest.

"Shh, relax," he murmured, his voice a mockery of tenderness. "We wouldn’t want you losing any more blood, now, would we?"

A sob threatened to claw its way up my throat, but I swallowed it down.

Just one chance.

Just one explanation.

He could listen to atleast that much , right?

I feel his hot breath on my neck and my body locks up. He is too close. Is he sniffing me? I am sure I must be stinking of blood and sweat.

" I want you conscious and breathing. Your innocent eyes fixed on mine when the rope is pulled and life drains out of your eyes slowly yet painfully tomorrow. "

Before I could digest his words, he yanks up the dark hood making a cascade of my brown hair to tumble down in waves. My Red, tear-strained brown eyes looked back at him.

And for a second the world stood still.

Something flashes in his eyes, but it is gone as fast as a bolt of thunder in the dark sky. His fists clench and his features harden into something colder than ice.

“ Ummm..”

I gag against the cloth in my mouth and he debates for a few seconds. His brows furrow and he tugs down the cloth from my mouth.

I stutter breathless.

" Za…Zach…Listen to me just once..please.. "

My pale chapped lips struggled to whisper but instead of mercy I see something darker cloud his eyes.

It snapped something in him and the next thing I know his strong hands wrap around my tender neck like a viper's grip.

" Your Highness. Address me as your highness filth!"

His growl reverberates in the entire dungeon room and I close my eyes.

The hatred in his eyes…,

It was unbearable.

A tear drop streams down my closed eyes, sobs rock my bound body and I feel him leaning closers

His hot breath fans my sunken cheeks, making a shiver travel down my spine.

" Shsss don't cry dewdrop. These crocodile tears are of no use now."

Seriously? He thinks I am faking this? Of course. How can he trust a betrayer.

Thats all I am to him now.

A criminal.

He lifts his hand and I flinch. His eyes soften for the first time.

He cup my wobbling chin softly and my stupid body leans in closer to his touch despite the state it was in.

Desperate for one last sense of comfort.

"Let me enlighten you on a fact. "

I feel his soft lips, brushing on my tears and my stomach recoils and heart thuds in my chest,

" Do you know why I named you as dewdrop?"

Another kiss is planted higher than the earlier one. Trailing the path of my tears, painting my cheeks. And then another and another.

My heart protests to knock out of my chest.

" When I first saw you, your purity resembled that of a fresh dew drop early in the morning. "

He Kisses.

I shiver.

" A symbol of innocence."

Next he brushes his warm lips on my closed eyelids making my body squirm against the bounds.

" Naivity....”

Kiss

"..and beauty. "

I wanted to speak, to tell him so much but he beat me to it.

" But how wrong I was..."

His callous hands cupping my face suddenly snaked up into my locks, and then suddenly he tugged on them brutally, sending a searing pain to her scalp.

" Aghh!"

" Behind this innocent face is an immoral sinful bitch who murderer innocents for money. "

His lips nest on my shoulder blade as he nibbles it roughly.

His hatred seeping in his every word, every action.

And I just stay.

Knowing I deserve this.

" A bloody gold digger who can go to any extent to get power and fame. "

Nibble.

" A backstabber who can betray and fool someone like me into believing that she was his mate."

Bite.

" A whor* who can open her legs for anyo-"