Chapter 6

Life in that dungeon was brutal.

All I got each day was a piece of stale bread and a glass of dirty water, but I ate every bit and drank every drop.

I couldn't break. I had to stay alive and wait for my chance.

I had no idea how long Richard planned to keep me here.

Maybe he wanted to break me down until I had nothing left and finally submitted. Or maybe he wanted to watch me suffer.

Either way, I wasn't going to let him win.

Time lost all meaning in that darkness.

I'd lost track of days. Then one day, I heard soft footsteps outside my cell.

The steps were light and hesitant, like someone wasn't sure they should be there. Then the person stopped right outside my door.

I looked up and saw a small figure standing in the dim light.

It was Edward, dressed in his fine clothes and looking completely out of place in the cold dungeon.

He was still holding onto the pouch I had given him.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, my voice rough from days of silence.

He stayed silent and stood there watching me through the bars, his scent giving away nothing.

In the dim light, his eyes were surprisingly bright.

"They said you dumped me," he finally whispered, his voice small and unsteady.

It hurt more than I wanted to admit.

"That's right." I kept my voice flat and cold.

I couldn't tell him the truth. In this pack, the less he knew, the safer he would be.

He pressed his lips together and tightened his small fists. "Why?"

"There's no reason," I said, and the coldness in my voice cut right through him.

His eyes turned red, but he refused to let a single tear fall.

I realized he was stronger than I ever expected.

"You're lying," he said.

I looked at him and stayed quiet.

Then he reached into his jacket and pulled something out, slipping it through the bars.

It was a letter, the paper yellowed and the edges worn thin, like someone had been turning it over in their hands for years.

I took it and unfolded it. The second I saw what was written, my breath caught.

The handwriting was mine, but the words weren't what I'd left behind.

It said I'd been sneaking around behind Richard's back, that the pup I was carrying wasn't his, and that I'd only mated him for his status and power.

It said my chosen mate had come for me and that I was going to run off with him and the pup.

And at the bottom, it cursed Richard in the ugliest way, wishing him dead.

I had no idea what was going on. This wasn't the letter I'd left behind.

"Where did you find this?" I asked, and I couldn't keep my voice from shaking.

"The day you left," Edward said. "It was tucked into my swaddle. Father saw it right away."

It hit me like a blow to the chest, and I went cold all over.

Then it all made sense. Someone had swapped out my letter after I was gone.

They used that fake letter to destroy any last chance between Richard and me, once and for all.

And from the moment Edward was born, they made sure everyone saw him as nothing but a bastard, a pup born outside the bond.

No wonder Richard hated me so much and thought I had run off with another wolf.

No wonder he had ignored Edward for seven whole years, because he never believed Edward was his own flesh and blood to begin with.

Who could have done something like this, and why?

Rose's name came to me right away. But that didn't add up.

Richard had told me Rose was dead.

So who was it then? One of her relatives? Or someone she had left behind in the manor to watch and wait?

"This letter isn't real," I told Edward, letting each word land with weight.

He tensed up for a second.

He looked at me with doubt in his eyes. "How can you prove that?"

"I..." I stopped, my words dying in my throat.

I couldn't possibly prove anything after seven years. Everything had changed, and all I had were words. No one would believe me.

"This pouch," Edward said, holding it up. "Why did you give it to me?"

My heart jumped, and I couldn't help but wonder if he had figured out the signal I had left for him.

He leaned in close and lowered his voice. "Were you telling me to wait?"

I stared at him, stunned. I never expected him to figure it out.

When I scratched that mark onto the pouch, it was only a desperate move. I didn't think he would notice.

I couldn't believe a pup that young could figure something like that out.

"I know your handwriting," Edward said, like he could tell what I was thinking. "I used to sneak looks at the old writing samples you left behind.

"There are a bunch of them in Father's study. He talks about hating you, but he never got rid of any of your stuff."

I felt tears well up in my eyes. So Richard had kept everything after all.

"This letter isn't right," he went on, and his young face looked way too serious for a pup his age. "Your handwriting and the writing on this letter are really close, but there are tiny differences. Whoever wrote this was trying hard to copy you."

He paused for a second and then added, "You left in the winter, but the letter says you went south for the spring flowers. That doesn't add up."

I couldn't say a word. All I could do was stare at him.

I never expected a seven-year-old pup to notice things that even grown wolves might miss.

My son was much smarter and more perceptive than I ever realized.

"So what are you waiting for?" he asked, his eyes fixed on mine without blinking.

"I'm waiting for a chance," I said, keeping my voice low and trying to stay calm. "A chance to clear my name. And I need you to help me."

He didn't say anything for a while. Asking him to help the mother who left him seven years ago and go against his father, the Alpha of the entire pack, was a lot. It was too dangerous for someone so young.

"Why should I help you?" he asked.

"Because you're my son," I replied. "And if I clear my name, then no one can call you a bastard anymore. You're the true heir of this pack, and that's something no one can take from you."

Those words got to him. He pressed his lips together, and I could see how torn he was inside, his young wolf fighting against everything he had been told.

After a long pause, he finally nodded. "What do you need me to do?"

"I need you to find someone," I whispered, leaning toward the bars and saying a name only he could hear. "There's an old she-wolf named Agnes Jensen.

"She used to serve Rose and stayed on in the manor after Rose died. Find her and get proof that she's been in contact with people outside the pack. She might be the one behind all of this."

Edward's eyes hardened with resolve. "Okay. Wait for me," he told me, and then slid the fake letter back through the bars and into my hand. "Keep this. You might need it later."

Then he turned and walked off into the dark hallway without looking back.

I watched his small figure fade away, and a flood of emotions washed over me.

Hope came with a price, and that price was danger.

I held the letter tighter.

The game between me, Richard, and that enemy hiding in the shadows had only just begun.