Lily POV
The clicking of the lock sounded like a guillotine. Lukas had dragged me from the gala, through shimmering corridors of coral and pearl, and shoved me into a room that felt more like a tomb than a royal suite. The walls were made of dark, polished obsidian, reflecting my tear-stained face a thousand times over.
"Jack!" I beat my fists against the heavy oak door. "Jack, please!"
But there was no answer, only the distant, rhythmic thud of the ocean hitting the castle foundations. My father had abandoned me for a political alliance, and my husband—the man I knew as Jack—was being treated like a criminal in his own birthright.
I paced the room, my mind racing. I pulled my mobile phone from my hidden pocket; the screen was cracked from the scuffle at the party, but it still flickered to life. With trembling fingers, I dialed the only number I knew by heart.
"Lily?" Jack's voice crackled through the speaker. He sounded out of breath, his voice strained with pain.
"Jack! Where are you? Are you okay?" I sobbed, sinking to the floor.
"I'm in the dungeons, Lily. Just below you. Lukas... he's insane. He knows exactly who I am. He's keeping me here to rot so he can take everything."
"He locked me in his room, Jack. I'm scared. There's something wrong with this place. The air feels... heavy."
"Listen to me," Jack's voice turned firm, the authority of Prince Leo bleeding through his confusion. "I am coming for you. I don't care about the guards or the ocean heart. I'm coming."
"Jack, wait—" The line went dead.
I stared at the phone, my heart hammering. I looked around the room, searching for a way out, but there were no balconies, only a single window high up that looked out over the churning black sea. I felt a sudden chill, a drop in temperature that made my breath mist in the air.
"Jack?" I whispered, though I knew he wasn't there.
A soft, wet sobbing sound drifted from the corner of the room. I turned, squinting into the shadows. At first, I thought it was a pile of discarded silk, but then it moved. A girl sat there, her back to me, her long hair matted and damp. She was wearing a white dress that was ruined by dark, jagged stains—stains that looked terrifyingly like blood.