The cool night air was laced with unease as Eryon and Misery slipped through the shadows surrounding the pack’s quarters. Every step felt like walking on a knife’s edge, the threat of discovery looming. When they reached Lyra’s quarters, Eryon gestured for Misery to stay back while he approached the door.
Lyra was sitting by her window, her silver eyes reflecting the moonlight. At the sound of a soft knock, she tensed and turned, her expression shifting from curiosity to shock as she saw them standing outside. She opened the door quickly, her voice barely above a whisper. “What are you doing here?”
“We need your help,” Misery said, stepping forward despite Eryon’s warning glance. “Adrian’s locked up, and if we don’t act now, he’s as good as dead.”
Lyra’s hands trembled as she glanced down the hall nervously. “If Cassian finds out you’re here—if anyone finds out—you’ll both be killed.”
“Then don’t help us,” Eryon said bluntly, stepping into the dim light. “Just stay out of the way.”
Lyra’s breath caught, her emotions flickering across her face like a storm. “I can’t just turn my back on this. But I can’t go against him either. If I try—”
“You don’t have to,” Eryon said softly, his tone a rare mix of understanding and determination. “We’ll take care of Adrian. Just don’t raise the alarm.”
Tears welled in Lyra’s eyes as she struggled with the choice before her. “You don’t understand,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “If this fails, I’ll lose everything.”
Misery stepped closer, her voice steadier than Lyra expected. “We’re already losing everything, Lyra. You may not be able to fight this war alone, but we can’t afford to let Adrian suffer because of it.”
For a long moment, Lyra said nothing, her gaze darting between them. Finally, she nodded, her voice faint. “Fine. But please—just leave before it’s too late.”
Eryon’s jaw tightened, but he gave her a curt nod. Misery touched Lyra’s arm briefly, a silent gesture of thanks, before they disappeared into the shadows.
Lyra closed the door behind them, leaning heavily against it as her knees buckled. She covered her face with her hands, her silent tears slipping between her fingers.
***
The dungeons beneath the pack’s stronghold were as cold and foreboding as Eryon had expected. The stone walls seemed to echo every footstep, every breath, amplifying their anxiety. Misery led the way, her senses sharp as she navigated the labyrinthine halls.
“Adrian should be in the lower cells,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the faint hum of distant activity.
When they reached the cell, the sight before them made Misery’s stomach churn. Adrian was chained to the wall, his shirt torn and bloodied, his head drooping. He looked up at the sound of their approach, his crimson eyes dull but still flickering with sarcasm. “About time,” he rasped. “I was beginning to think I wasn’t worth the effort.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Eryon quipped, though his expression darkened as he took in Adrian’s state. “We got sidetracked.”
Misery knelt by the chains, pulling out a set of lockpicks. Her fingers worked quickly, her face set in grim determination. “Hold still,” she muttered. “These aren’t ordinary restraints.”
“Yeah, I noticed,” Adrian said dryly, wincing as she adjusted the cuffs.
As soon as the chains fell, Adrian slumped forward. Eryon caught him before he hit the ground, pulling one of Adrian’s arms over his shoulder to support him. “Can you walk?”
Adrian groaned, managing a weak smirk. “What do you think?”
“Great,” Eryon muttered. “Another thing to carry.”
Misery helped steady Adrian as they moved toward the exit. They had barely made it halfway when the sharp blare of alarms shattered the silence.
“Damn it,” Misery hissed, her eyes darting around. “They know we’re here.”
The sound of footsteps thundered above them, growing louder with every second. Eryon’s claws flexed instinctively, his body tensing for a fight. “We’ll have to go through them,” he growled.
Misery adjusted her grip on Adrian, her crimson eyes narrowing. “Then let’s make it quick.”
As the first of Cassian’s guards appeared at the top of the stairs, Eryon stepped forward, his amber eyes glowing. “Stay close,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “We’re not getting caught.”