Chapter 420
Four hundred and twenty two
Alexander POV
The iron door of the exercise yard clanged open, rusty hinges shrieking through the damp air.
I kept my head down as I shuffled into the courtyard. Sunlight didn’t reach down here, only a grey haze filtering through the barred grates overhead.
This fifteen-minute window was the only time we were let out of our cells, a ritual meant to keep us from losing our minds, or to remind us how far beneath the earth we were buried.
I scanned the courtyard. Near the wall, Kobe leaned against the concrete, pretending to nurse a bruised forearm.
I walked past him, stopped a foot away, and stretched my shoulder against the stone.
“You’re being watched closer today,” Kobe murmured, his eyes on the sentries patrolling the catwalk. ” Zachary’s men are nervous. They don’t like that you’re breathing the same air as the rest of the ward p>
“Let them be nervous,” I said. “Any news about the cook p>
“I’ve got a line,” Kobe whispered. “An old contact is visiting me in two days. If he makes it through the outer gate, I can get him to trace the territory records. We’ll find out which pack Anna’s in p>
I kept my gaze on the concrete. “Good p>
“There’s something else,” Kobe added. “If we’re going to tear down the case Zachary built, you’re going to need more than a cook’s testimony. You need the Alpha Dossier p>
I glanced at him. “The Dossier p>
“Every ruling Alpha under the regional umbrella has one,” Kobe said, his words rushing as a guard turned on the catwalk above us. “It’s the master file kept in the Regional Alpha’s private archives. It holds everything: personal accounts, land deeds, witness depositions, and the name of your father’s estate counsel. The lawyer who oversaw Edward’s final affairs before your stepmother scrubbed the public records.” 1
Before I could ask another question, boots clattered from the far corridor. A sentry marched toward our corner, one hand resting on his stun baton.
“Time’s up,” Kobe muttered, pushing off the wall. “Move p>
I melted into the crowd of grey-clothed prisoners and slipped into the intake tunnel before the guard could call
my name.
Back in Cell 4B, the iron door slammed shut. I lay back on the cot as my conversation with Kobe replayed in my
head.
The nightmare of my father’s death was beginning to crack.
Footsteps stopped outside my cell. The iron slot slid open, and a tray of bread and lukewarm soup was shoved through.
The warden on the other side eyed me through the grate with a grin.
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“Enjoy lunch, Rogue,” he said, turning to leave.
“Wait,” I called.
The warden paused and looked over his shoulder. “What p>
“My personal belongings,” I said, sitting up on the cot. “My phone. I’m entitled to a phone call p>
The warden laughed. “Entitled? You aren’t in a regional holding center, boy. You’re in Zachary’s basement. Orders came straight from the top. No calls, no messages, no outside line. Alpha’s orders p>
He slammed the iron slot shut before I could reply. His boots echoed down the hall.
I sat back against the wall, a smile touching the corner of my mouth.
Zachary thought he was punishing me by cutting me off from the world. He thought he was breaking my spirit. But his arrogance was a blessing in disguise. If he hadn’t locked me in this ward, I would’ve never crossed paths with Kobe. I would’ve never learned that the cook could prove I was drugged, or that the regional master file existed.
Zachary was so focused on keeping me silent that he’d handed me the keys to my own vindication.
Sometime in the middle of the night, I woke.
The cell was pitch black. A band of pressure closed around my ribs. I gasped, but the breath caught in my throat. Deep in my chest, the familiar cold spread again.
I winced and closed my eyes as pain shot through my sternum.
Not now.
I clutched my shirt over my heart and forced myself to sit up, but my limbs wouldn’t respond. My hands shook as I reached into the dark and found the cup of water on the floor. My teeth chattered against the rim as 1 swallowed, trying to flush the sensation from my throat.
It did nothing. The cold came from inside my blood,
I dropped onto the mattress and pulled the blanket over my shoulders. I was used to these bouts of ice, used to my body rebelling against the damaged wolf inside me.
*It’ll pass,* I told myself, forcing my breathing to slow. *It’s just a flare-up. It’ll pass by morning p>
It didn’t pass.
When dawn light filtered through the corridor grates, I couldn’t move.
The silver-tinted suppressants they’d pumped into me during my arrest had mostly worn off. Instead of letting my wolf surface and heal me, the sudden absence of the drug had triggered a violent reaction. Without the wolf’s internal furnace to regulate my core temperature, the cold in my heart spread through my blood vessels
like frost.
My skin burned with fever, yet every nerve felt encased in ice. Shivers racked my body and rattled the cot’s metal frame against the floor.
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“Hey, look at the big bad Alpha,” a voice jeered from the corridor.
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I forced my eyes open. Two wardens stood outside the bars, holding an inspection clipboard, staring at me with
amusement.
“Look at him shaking,” the second one said, spitting onto the stone floor outside my cell. “Looks like the Rogue Lord can’t even handle a little chill in the air. Thought you rogues were supposed to be tough p>
“Maybe he’s crying for his soft bed back at the rogue camp,” the first warden taunted, kicking the bottom bar of the door.
CLANG.
“Get up, prisoner! Cell inspection p>
I gritted my teeth, my breath coming in ragged puffs. I tried to push myself up on one elbow, but my arm gave out, and I crashed back onto the mattress. My chest felt like it was cracking under the frost, my heart beating in slow, painful thuds.
The wardens laughed, their voices echoing down the stone hallway as they walked away, leaving me trapped in the dark, consumed by the ice in my veins.
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Cedella
Cedella is a passionate storyteller known for her bold romantic and spicy novels that keep readers hooked from the very first chapter. With a flair for crafting emotionally intense plots and unforgettable characters, she blends love, desire, and drama into every story she writes. Cedella’s storytelling style is immersive and addictive—perfect for fans of heated romances and heart-pounding twists.