Rewriting Her Destiny With The Lycan Kings-Chapter 60: Unleashed By The Voice

After the kings had returned to their daily duties, Zara decided to take a walk around the castle. She wears a beautiful purple shade full length gown, and braids her hair to loose waves. She looks so glowing and healthy after her encounter with her mates last night. Their closeness indeed helped her to heal faster.

Her intention, at least outwardly, was to reacquaint herself with the surroundings she had missed during her time away. But deep down, she had another purpose. a far more pressing one.

She wanted to make her way to the dungeons.

Though Lilly had told her much, Zara knew there were gaps in the story, questions left unanswered. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Jennifer might hold the key to at least some of those answers. And then there was the matter of Ezra. his absence was impossible to ignore. Whispers about him floated through the halls like an unspoken secret, and Zara’s curiosity only grew.

As she walked through the grand corridors, her footsteps echoing against the polished marble floors, she felt the weight of the castle’s silence. Despite its beauty and grandeur, the air was heavy with tension. Servants whispered in hushed tones, glancing nervously at her as she passed. It was as if the entire castle was holding its breath, waiting for something to unfold.

Zara kept her expression calm, masking the unease bubbling within her. The closer she got to the dungeon, the darker and colder the atmosphere became. The once-bright corridors gave way to dimly lit staircases, their walls damp and chilled. Shadows danced across the stones, and the faint scent of mildew lingered in the air.

When she finally reached the entrance to the dungeons, she hesitated for a moment, her hand resting on the iron door. Her heart thudded in her chest as she thought of what,or who might be waiting on the other side.

Steeling herself, she pushed the door open. The creak of the iron hinges echoed ominously as she stepped inside. The dungeon was dimly lit by torches mounted on the walls, their flames flickering weakly. The air was damp and suffocating, but Zara pressed on, her eyes scanning the rows of cells.

As she walked, she caught glimpses of prisoners. some slumped against the walls, others watching her with hollow eyes. Their first sigh was not something she was pleased by. They look terrifying. But none of them were Jennifer.

Her heart sank slightly until she finally reached a cell at the farthest end of the corridor. There, sitting on the cold stone floor, was Jennifer. Her once-pristine appearance was now disheveled, her hair a tangled mess, and her clothes torn and dirtied.

Zara stood frozen, watching the frail and pitiful form of Jennifer pressed against the cold iron bars. The transformation Jennifer had undergone was shocking. her once vibrant presence now reduced to a ghostly shadow. Her skin was pallid, her limbs gaunt, and her eyes sunken with desperation. For a brief moment, Zara felt a pang of pity, but it vanished as quickly as it came when she remembered the betrayal and pain Jennifer had caused.

The sound of Zara’s footsteps echoed ominously in the dungeon, drawing Jennifer’s attention. Slowly, Jennifer raised her head, her movements weak and strained. But when her gaze fell on Zara, a flicker of energy burst through her as she stumbled to her feet. Limping toward the bars, Jennifer’s hands trembled as she clung to the cold metal, her hollow eyes scanning Zara like she was a mirage.

"Zara... Zara... you came," Jennifer gasped, her voice trembling with desperation. Tears welled in her eyes as though she had been clinging to the hope of this moment.

Zara’s lips curled into a cold smile, her anger simmering just beneath the surface. "Unfortunately, yes. You must be disappointed your plans didn’t work as you intended, Jennifer," she said, her tone laced with biting sarcasm.

Jennifer flinched, her grip tightening on the bars as tears spilled down her cheeks. "Zara... please... help me. Get me out of this hell. I can’t take the torture anymore. Please... forgive me, save me!" Her voice cracked as she begged, her once-proud demeanor shattered into pitiful desperation.

Zara stepped closer, her sharp gaze locking onto Jennifer’s tear-streaked face. "Save you? How do you expect me to save someone who plotted my demise? You stole my identity, you nearly got me killed, and you dared to betray the trust of the kingdom. What haven’t you done, Jennifer?" Her voice grew sharper, the anger bubbling to the surface with every word.

Jennifer’s face crumpled, her sobs growing louder. "I know! I know what I did was unforgivable. I let my greed consume me. I’ve lost everything. my wolf, my status, my freedom. All I have left is my soul, Zara. Please... please show me mercy. I swear upon the Moon Goddess, I will serve you as your loyal servant until my dying breath. I will endure any punishment you see fit, but please... get me out of here. The kings won’t listen to me. You’re my only hope!"

Her voice broke as she fell to her knees, clutching the bars tightly. Her entire body shook with sobs, her fragile frame trembling as though her very life depended on Zara’s mercy.

For a moment, Zara stared at Jennifer, her heart battling between fury and the faintest glimmer of compassion. Watching Jennifer, once so proud and conniving, reduced to this wretched state was both satisfying and heartbreaking. Zara could see the sincerity in Jennifer’s desperation, but the wounds of betrayal still burned fresh in her heart.

Taking a steadying breath, Zara crossed her arms, her voice colder now. "You should’ve thought of this before you decided to betray me, Jennifer. You made your choice, and now you have to live with the consequences. Begging for mercy won’t erase what you’ve done."

Jennifer let out a wail, her sobs echoing through the dungeon like a haunting melody. Her cries were raw, filled with regret and despair. "Please, Zara! Please... I’ll do anything... anything to prove my loyalty. Just... don’t leave me here. I’m begging you!"

Zara’s jaw tightened, her emotions warring within her. Turning on her heel, she began to walk away, leaving Jennifer behind. Her cries grew fainter as Zara moved toward the exit, her thoughts clouded with the weight of Jennifer’s pleas.

Though she couldn’t bring herself to forgive Jennifer, the sight of her broken and repentant figure would linger in Zara’s mind long after she left the dungeon.

As she was so engrossed in her thoughts, she failed to hear the voice from behind.

•••

Albus sat motionless in the far corner of his cell, his gaze hollow, his silence unnerving. Fiona had watched him for hours, her frustration simmering. She knew why they were here, locked away like caged animals. It was because of his reckless words. Words that had sealed their fate.

Fiona paced in her cell, her thoughts racing. The soldiers hadn’t tortured them, but the suffocating anticipation of interrogation gnawed at her nerves. She could feel the weight of the secrets hanging over their heads, threatening to unravel everything.

Suddenly, a faint voice echoed through the dungeon. It was feminine, distant yet distinct, coming from one of the far-off cells. Fiona froze, her ears straining to catch the conversation. The woman’s pained cries from earlier had subsided, replaced by a low, muffled dialogue. The words were unclear, but the tone sent a chill down her spine.

Fiona glanced at Albus, expecting his usual indifference. Instead, to her shock, he moved. Slowly at first, as if awakening from a trance. Then, like a man possessed, he shot to his feet. His wide, terrified eyes darted around the dungeon. His hands trembled as he stumbled toward the iron bars, gripping them so tightly his knuckles turned white.

"Albus!" Fiona hissed, rushing to his side. "What is it? What’s wrong?"

He didn’t answer. His breathing quickened, his body trembling violently. For the first time since their capture, life flickered in his otherwise vacant expression. though it was the wrong kind of life. It was fear, raw and unfiltered, gripping him like a vice.

"Albus, talk to me!" Fiona demanded, shaking his arm. "What’s happening?"

Still, he didn’t respond. His head snapped toward the source of the voice, his eyes wide with recognition. Then, in a voice that echoed through the dungeon, filled with equal parts desperation and reverence, he shouted:

"My queen!"

Fiona’s heart skipped a beat. The words hung in the air like a dark omen. Her grip tightened on his arm as dread crept into her veins. She stared at her husband, whose fear-stricken face now seemed to mirror her growing panic.

"Albus, who are you talking about? What queen?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

But he didn’t answer. He just stared into the shadows of the dungeon, his lips moving soundlessly as if praying. or cursing. And Fiona, for the first time in her life, truly feared the answer.

...

The tension in the dungeon grew heavier with each passing moment. Albus’s trembling hands gripped the iron bars so tightly that Fiona could hear the faint creak of metal under strain. His face, pale and drenched in sweat, was contorted with an emotion she couldn’t quite place. was it fear? Anger? Desperation? Whatever it was, it was consuming him whole.

"Albus, stop it!" Fiona’s voice was sharp, her grip tightening on his arm, but it did little to snap him out of his daze. His eyes, wide and frantic, were fixed on the far end of the dungeon where the voice had come from, as though he was seeing something she couldn’t.

The air in the dungeon seemed to shift, growing colder. Fiona felt a chill run down her spine as she realized the guards stationed outside were nowhere to be seen. The usual hum of distant chatter or the clinking of keys was absent, replaced by an oppressive silence.

"Albus!" she tried again, her voice rising. "What are you doing? You’re going to get us killed!"

But he didn’t seem to hear her. His breathing grew louder, more ragged, and the veins in his neck bulged as he stared ahead like a man possessed. His entire body trembled, the muscles in his arms flexing unnaturally, as if he was fighting against something unseen. or perhaps something within himself.

Then, without warning, he roared. It wasn’t a human sound; it was guttural, primal, and it echoed off the stone walls like a clap of thunder. Fiona stumbled back, her hands flying to her ears as the sheer force of it rattled her.

"Albus, stop this! Stop it right now!" she shouted, panic lacing her voice. But it was too late.

With a deafening crack, the iron bars of the cell began to bend under his hands. Fiona’s eyes widened in disbelief. "No... no, you can’t..." she whispered, backing away as the realization hit her.

Albus pulled harder, his face twisted into a mask of determination and madness. The iron groaned in protest, but it didn’t hold for long. With one final, ferocious yank, the bars shattered, splinters of metal flying in every direction. Fiona screamed, shielding her face as shards scraped her skin.

Albus didn’t even glance back. The moment the opening was large enough, he dashed through it, his speed unnatural, almost otherworldly. It was as if the air itself bent around him, carrying him forward in a blur.

Fiona staggered toward the broken bars, her hands clutching the edges as she stared after him in shock. His figure disappeared into the darkness of the dungeon corridor, leaving only the faint echo of his footsteps. and the undeniable sense that something far more terrifying had just been unleashed.

They were no more safe.