My Fiancé Framed Me For Murder—So I Surrendered To His Deadliest Enemy
Part 2
The dungeon of the northern keep was a sensory nightmare.
The air hung thick with the metallic tang of old blood and the suffocating dampness of subterranean stone.
I lay on a slab of freezing granite, my body shivering uncontrollably in the dark.
The rusted iron cuffs chained my wrists to the wall, burning my skin and suppressing my healing abilities.
My shoulder throbbed with a dull, nauseating agony where the burn had been crudely cauterized.
Heavy, deliberate footsteps echoed down the spiraling stone staircase.
The very air in the dungeon seemed to compress as David stepped into the flickering torchlight of my cell.
He wore a black tunic that stretched tight across his broad, scarred chest.
Without the distraction of the battlefield, the bond between us struck with devastating clarity.
My breath hitched, my inner wolf clawing at the edges of my consciousness, desperate to submit to the towering alpha.
His knuckles turned white as he gripped the iron bars of my cell.
A muscle ticked in his clenched jaw.
His silver eyes flashed with a violent war between primal instinct and cold, hard logic.
He demanded to know what kind of dark magic Craig had woven to make a spy smell like a fated mate.
I forced myself to sit up, ignoring the searing pain in my shoulder and the agonizing pull of the chains.
I met his terrifying gaze without flinching.
I told him the truth about the poisoned goblet, the betrayal, and my desperate flight.
He stared at my dirt-streaked face, searching for any trace of deceit.
He stepped into the cell, towering over me, pointing out that Craig was too cowardly to risk provoking the northern kingdom without a larger game at play.
Before I could answer, a sharp, metallic clatter echoed from the corridor outside the cell block.
David’s head snapped up.
A slender figure emerged from the shadows, dressed in dark leather armor.
My blood ran cold.
It was Kevin, a scout from my former pack who had dined at Craig’s table just weeks ago.
Kevin froze when he saw the warlord standing inside my cell.
He held a long, wicked dagger that glinted with the deadly sheen of pure silver.
David demanded to know what his southern gate commander was doing with a silver blade.
Realizing he was cornered, Kevin let out a desperate cry and lunged directly at me.
He screamed that Craig sent his regards.
David moved with a speed that completely defied his massive size.
He caught Kevin by the throat mid-lunge, lifting the traitor off the ground with one hand.
The silver dagger clattered harmlessly onto the stone floor.
With a sickening crunch, David tightened his grip until Kevin choked out the entire plot.
Craig had ordered his men to chase me across the border, knowing I would be killed.
He planned to use my mutilated body as proof of unprovoked aggression to unite the eastern packs for war.
David’s expression went utterly blank, a terrifying calm settling over his features as the puzzle pieces clicked into place.
He snapped the spy’s neck and tossed the lifeless body aside like discarded refuse.
The coldness in his eyes vanished, replaced by profound, agonizing remorse.
He dropped to his knees before my stone slab.
He ripped the rusted iron links apart with his bare hands, the metal shrieking as it broke.
I collapsed forward, falling directly into the massive, warm expanse of his chest.
He wrapped his arms tightly around my fragile form, whispering that he had been a blind fool.
The bond roared to life between us, an inferno of possessive magic that chased away the damp chill of the dungeon.
He swore to heal me, and then promised to burn my former home to the ground.
As his silver eyes met mine, glowing with absolute vengeance, I knew my oppressors had no idea what was coming for them.
Would you have shown mercy to the ones who betrayed you, or would you march beside a monster to take back your stolen crown?
