LAYLA
The wind stirred through the garden, carrying with it the faint scent of blooming flowers and damp earth. It was peaceful—so deceptively peaceful that, for a mont, I almost forgot where I was.
Almost.
Thane was talking. His voice was steady, careful, as he spoke about the pack, about what had changed since I had been gone. I knew I should have been listening. I should have cared.
But I didn’t.
My eyes drifted over the garden, watching as the wind played with the tall grass, making it sway in unison. It was srizing, the way the leaves rustled, whispering secrets I would never know. My gaze dropped to the ground where a single flower glass—delicate and glistening in the sunlight—lay half-buried in the dirt.
Without thinking, I reached down, brushing my fingers against the fragile stem before picking it up. The petals were soft, almost weightless in my palm. Sothing about it felt significant, though I couldn’t quite place why.
"Are you listening?"
Thane’s voice cut through the quiet, breaking my trance.
I glanced up, eting his golden eyes. He was watching intently, his expression unreadable.
I forced a smile. "Yes."
He didn’t look convinced.
Not that I cared.
As much as I still couldn’t forgive him, I had to admit—begrudgingly—that his presence in the tower had made the last few days slightly less unbearable.
Less tornting.
The Lycan King still haven’t requested by present, for reasons I didn’t question. Sabastine, though ever watchful, had kept his distance. And Thane, whether he realized it or not, had beco sothing of a buffer between and the suffocating loneliness that had threatened to consu before.
It was infuriating.
And yet...
It made things easier.
I twirled the flower glass between my fingers, my mind already moving to the next step of my plan.
"So," I said, voice light and casual, "about my mother’s pendant."
Thane straightened slightly, sensing the shift in conversation.
"Are you sure it can break the tower’s barrier?"
His jaw tightened. "Yes."
No hesitation.
No uncertainty.
I studied him for a mont, trying to gauge if he was lying.
He wasn’t.
That was good.
That ant this would work.
I turned my gaze back to the garden, exhaling slowly as the realization settled in.
I would be leaving this place soon.
The thought sent a thrill through , a rush of sothing I hadn’t felt in so long.
Hope.
"Two days from now."
The words left my lips in a whisper, barely audible over the rustling leaves. The wind curled around , lifting strands of my hair, tangling them in the cool air as if nature itself wanted to remind of my impending escape.
Two days.
That was all that stood between and freedom.
I turned to face Thane, watching him carefully. He had changed since arriving at the tower. I wasn’t sure if it was guilt or sothing else, but the arrogance that once sat so easily on his shoulders had dulled. His golden eyes no longer held the cold dismissal I once saw in them.
Instead, there was sothing softer there—sothing that unsettled more than I cared to admit.
Thane stepped forward, closing the distance between us in a slow, deliberate movent. He reached for my hand, his fingers brushing against mine before lifting it to his lips.
The warmth of his mouth pressed against the back of my hand, lingering for a mont longer than necessary.
"Two days from now," he repeated, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.
I stared at him, my heart a quiet, steady rhythm in my chest.
I should have pulled away.
I should have ripped my hand from his grasp and told him that no amount of regret could change what he had done.
But I didn’t.
Instead, I let him hold it, let the mont stretch between us, filled with unspoken words and fractured history.
The air felt heavier now, charged with sothing neither of us acknowledged.
Then, just as quickly as he had taken it, Thane released my hand, stepping back with a quiet exhale.
"You still don’t trust ," he sighed, his voice low.
I scoffed. "You expected to?"
"No." He shook his head. "But I am trying, Layla."
I didn’t respond to that. I didn’t know how to.
Instead, I turned back toward the garden, focusing on the expanse of green stretching out before . The flowers, the vines, the small stone pathway that led deeper into the courtyard—every inch of it was a reminder of how long I had been trapped here.
Two days from now, that would change.
Two days from now, I would be free.
But at what cost?
The goddess’s words echoed in my mind, a cruel whisper that refused to be ignored.
"Don’t let a little grudge ruin everything I have planned. Stop throwing tantrums and accept Thane. That’s the only way I can help you out of that tower."
The thought made my stomach twist.
Accept Thane?
I clenched my hands into fists, my nails digging into my palms.
No.
I wasn’t forgiving him.
I was using him.
There was a difference.
I glanced at Thane from the corner of my eye. He was watching , studying , as if trying to figure out what was going on inside my head.
I wouldn’t let him see.
I wouldn’t let him know.
So, I forced a smile—small, unreadable.
"Two days from now," I murmured again, letting the words settle between us like a silent promise.
Then, without another word, I turned on my heel and walked away, my steps slow, steady, filled with the weight of everything I refused to say.
Because in two days, I would finally have the chance to reclaim what was mine.
And nothing—not Thane, not the Lycan King, not even the goddess herself—would stop .
"I’m going to be free," I whispered, the words barely carried by the breeze.
The tower lood around as I crossed the threshold, its cold stone walls as suffocating as ever. The dimly lit corridors stretched ahead, the flickering lanterns casting long shadows across the floors.
A soft ow echoed through the corridor, breaking through the heavy silence that clung to the tower.
I halted mid-step, my gaze snapping toward the source of the sound.
Then, another ow—this ti more insistent.
A small smile tugged at the corners of my lips as I turned my head to see Xylara, her sleek fur blending into the dim lighting, her golden eyes staring up at expectantly.
Not far behind her, Namarie padded closer, their tails flicking as they watched with that curious, knowing gaze that only cats seed to possess.
"Have you three been waiting for ?" I murmured, bending down to scoop them up one by one.
Xylara nuzzled into my neck, purring contentedly, while Namarie let out a dramatic sigh as if the re act of being held was an inconvenience he was barely tolerating.
A warmth spread through my chest.
I buried my face into Xylara’s fur for a mont, inhaling the familiar scent of warmth and safety.
Two more days.
Then we’d all be free.
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