Gianna’s POV

“Louisa!”

“Gianna! Where are you?!”

“I’m here, Lulu!” I screamed as I spun around, my voice tearing from my throat.

The darkness swallowed everything. Thick, heavy, suffocating.

But I could hear her.

Faint, but growing clearer.

“Gianna, they’re close!” she cried, panic shaking through her voice like glass about to shatter.

Those words sliced straight into me. My blood turned to ice.

“Who is?” I asked, breath catching in my throat. “Lulu, say something!”

Nothing. Not even the sound of her breathing. Not a sob. Not a whisper.

Even my heightened hearing, useless.

“Louisa!” I screamed again, voice raw. “Louisa, where are you?!”

And then—

“Gianna! Helpppp!”

“Louisa!” I bolted upright, heart pounding like a war drum.

Cold stone beneath my body. Damp. Cruel. My palms stung where they’d scraped against the floor. My back ached. My breath came in broken gasps.

Not again.

I blinked, trying to focus. The dream still gripped my bones like frost.

But the darkness was gone. Replaced by stone walls. Steel bars.

Reality.

The Pack’s prison.

Three days. That’s how long I’d been locked up here. And those days had stretched into something that felt like a year. A slow, unraveling kind of torture.

Not the kind where they hurt you.

No.

The kind where your own mind sinks its teeth into you.

The kind where your guilt digs deep and doesn’t let go.

I hadn’t even said goodbye to her.

And now, every time I closed my eyes, I saw Louisa’s face. Heard her voice. Her scream.

I barely registered the figure looming outside my cell until he spoke.

“Were you born to torment us?” one of the guards muttered, arms crossed, leaning against the bars like he was just exhausted by my existence.

I let out a dry, humorless sigh. “Tell me about it.”

He rolled his eyes.

The second guard, a taller, meaner-looking one, simply glared before walking off like I’d contaminated the air around him.

“Your friend doesn’t seem to like my company,” I added, voice thin with sarcasm as I motioned toward the retreating one.

The first guard chuckled, albeit briefly. “He’ll get over it. If it were me, though? I’d probably hate you too. You insulted the Alpha, in front of him. That’s practically suicide.”

I stared at him a moment, jaw clenched, and then looked away.

What had they expected?

That I’d just sit there, quiet and meek, while they tore Louisa and me apart like we didn’t matter?

But I’d heard what Alpha Callum said before they threw me in here.

It wasn’t about me and Louisa.

It was about our father.

To them, we weren’t girls.

We were the daughters of a traitor.

I pressed my forehead to the bars, fingers curling around the cold steel.

Fine. They could whisper. They could call me names. But I wouldn’t accept it.

I wouldn’t sit back and let this be the end.

“I guess you’re right,” I murmured. “I can’t imagine how the Alpha felt when I—the daughter of a traitor, dared to speak up.”

The guard didn’t respond, so I turned to him, letting my voice crack just a little. Just enough to sound believable.

“Let me make it right,” I said softly, blinking back tears. “Just one chance. Let me see him—apologize. Beg, if I have to.”

For a second, he hesitated.

Then the second guard returned, voice sharp like a slap.

“Like hell I’m letting you near him again.”

He stormed toward the bars, face twisted with disdain.

“You’re a sick kid with a few screws loose. And mad dogs like you? You keep ‘em locked up. Forever.”

His words hit me like a backhand. My throat tightened. But I didn’t let the fear settle.

I didn’t have time for it.

Louisa had been alone for days. Days where she probably thought I abandoned her. Where she probably cried and waited for me to come.

I had to see her.

Even if I had to burn the whole Pack down to do it.

The guard turned, ready to walk away, and that was my moment.

“Wait!”

He paused. Didn’t turn, but he stopped. That was enough.

“You’re right, I acted like an idiot,” I said quickly. “I was reckless. Arrogant. I’ve spent every second in this cell thinking about what I did wrong.”

Still no movement. No response.

So I pushed harder.

“That’s why I need to apologize. To the Alpha. To make it right.”

He took one step forward, then another. Then—

“I said, I’m not letting you get close to—”

“Then what do you want?!” I snapped, gripping the bars. “Do you want me out there begging for forgiveness, or do you want me in here screaming day and night until I drive you mad?!”

My voice echoed through the narrow corridor, hot and sharp and loud.

He froze. Not turning, not speaking. Just… still.

Got you.

I lowered my voice, just enough to sound dangerous.

“Either way… I’ll get what I want.”

Silence.

Then I saw the first guard exchange a glance with the second. He shrugged, barely perceptible.

And without a word, the cell door creaked open.

My breath caught.

They grabbed me by the arms, not gently, but not brutal either—and dragged me out into the hallway.

My feet scraped against the stone, then found rhythm. I didn’t resist.

I didn’t need to.

Because this wasn’t defeat.

It was the first step.

And with every step that brought me closer to Alpha Callum’s office, I whispered one prayer on repeat.

Please. Let this work. Let me see her. Let me fix this.

They pulled me through two thick wooden doors and down a hallway that smelled of pine and burning firewood.

The sound of my heart was louder than our footsteps.

Finally, we stopped in front of the heavy door that led to him.

The guard who’d laughed knocked once, waited, and then slipped inside without me.

I was alone again, standing in front of the one man who had the power to either destroy or save me.

I bowed my head and closed my eyes.

Please. Please, Moon Goddess. Just one chance.

The door creaked open.

The guard reappeared and motioned with his head.

“Go in.”