ANABEL.
The heavy iron heels of my boots slammed hard against the damp stone steps, the sound echoing through the cold, subterranean darkness like a rhythm of war.
My chest was heaving, my heart hammering against my ribs, but for the first time all night, I wasn't shaking with fear or guilt. My veins were filled with liquid fire, a hot, blinding rage that burned away every drop of tears left in my eyes.
I reached the bottom of the cellar stairs and marched straight down the narrow, torch-lit corridor toward the deepest cellblock.
The two reserve guards stationed at the heavy iron gate snapped to attention, their eyes widening as they took in my mud-stained clothes, my messy hair, and the deadly, unhinged fury written across my face.
"Lady Anabel!" the lead guard stammered, raising a hand. "You shouldn't be down here. Alpha Noah and Alpha Aidan ordered—"
"Open the cell door," I snapped, my voice dropping into an icy, razor-sharp command that startled them both.
