The ladies' room had been designed for feminine indulgence—rose-marble counters, mirrors that multiplied reflections into infinity, crystal decanters of perfume arranged like jewels on silver trays.
Now it became our sanctuary for conspiracy, its opulent surfaces bearing witness to secrets that would shake Grimhowl's foundations.
Veyra entered first with the practiced grace of one who had learned to navigate hostile territory without drawing attention.
I followed moments later, maintaining appropriate distance, the facade of ordinary feminine necessity protecting us both from suspicion.
She moved to the mirrors, producing a powder compact with deliberate casualness while checking that we were truly alone.
"Rheakar permits no one else to use these facilities while his women are present,"
She explained, her voice low but clear in the marble acoustics.
"His possessiveness becomes our shield. We have perhaps ten minutes before anyone might wonder at our absence."
"How long have you been here?" I asked, still struggling to reconcile Korin's sister with the role she played among Rheakar's concubines. "How long have you been watching, waiting for this moment?"
"Four months," she replied, setting down the compact to meet my eyes directly.
"I arrived shortly after Rheakar discovered the truth about Korin. Lucien had already been monitoring the situation through other channels, but when he learned of my connection to Korin, everything changed."
"Lucien orchestrated your placement here?" The revelation shifted my understanding of my brother's reach, his strategic thinking extending far beyond what I had imagined.
"Not orchestrated—adapted. Rheakar claimed me as leverage against my brother, believing that holding Korin's sister among his concubines would ensure the Beta's complete submission."
A bitter smile touched her lips. "I play the role of the newest acquisition, eager to please, desperate to maintain my small privileges. It disgusts me, but it serves a greater purpose."
"What privileges?" I asked, though part of me already suspected the answer.
"I'm permitted to visit Korin once a week, supervised of course, but the guards have grown complacent. They see a sister's tears, hear a brother's growls of frustration, and assume we speak only of family shame and personal regret."
She moved closer, her voice dropping even lower. "Through these visits, I can arrange meetings between you and him. Not often, that would draw suspicion, but enough to coordinate what must come next."
"Have you seen him recently? You know how he fares?" The questions tumbled out before I could temper them with caution.
Veyra's expression darkened, her delicate features tightening with barely contained anguish.
"I've seen him. What they've done to him, what they continue to do…"
She paused, gathering herself with visible effort.
"Sometimes I think death would have been the most merciful punishment for him. Rheakar even gave him that choice—to die with what he would call honor, or to continue languishing in prison."
"And he chose to live," I said, understanding flooding through me with painful clarity.
"He chose to endure," Veyra corrected, her grey eyes holding mine with intensity.
"I don't know what Korin was thinking when he made that choice, but he must have had his own good reasons.”
The meaningful glance that accompanied her words spoke volumes about motivations left unvoiced, about hope that survived even in the depths of dungeons
“Perhaps he believed someone would come for him. Perhaps he simply refused to give Rheakar the satisfaction of breaking him completely."
My hand found Veyra's shoulder in a gesture of shared understanding, feeling the tremor of suppressed emotion beneath her composed exterior.
"Korin was always the bravest werewolf I've ever known," I said, memories of his quiet strength flooding back with painful clarity.
"He was self-sacrificing to a fault, and freedom-loving in ways that went beyond mere personal liberty. He understood that true freedom meant ensuring others could live without chains, even if it cost him everything."
"It did cost him everything," Veyra whispered, tears gathering but not falling. "His position, his honor, his physical freedom, nearly his life—all for a choice made six years ago."
"Then I promise you we'll find a way out," I said with absolute conviction. "You, me, Korin. I won't leave this place without him. Your brother bought my freedom with his blood—I won't purchase it again with his continued suffering."
An unexpected smile graced Veyra's features, transforming her face with warmth that seemed foreign in this place of calculated cruelties.
"So that's how you are, Lyanna—the Luna. I wondered if Korin's descriptions were colored by imagination or delirium."
"Pardon me?" The shift in conversation caught me completely off-guard. "Korin spoke of me?"
"Spoke of you?"
Veyra's smile deepened, carrying something between sadness and wonder.
"In his letters, before Rheakar intercepted them, he wrote of you with such tenderness that the very parchment seemed to emanate warmth. His concern for your safety, his joy at news of the triplets, his hope that you had found peace."
She paused, seeming to weigh whether to continue before pressing forward.
"And in his fever dreams, when the beatings leave him barely conscious, your name escapes his lips like an invocation to powers beyond this earthly prison.”
The revelations constricted my heart with almost physical pain.
“The guards mock him for it, but I recognize it for what it is—the anchor that keeps him tethered to this world when everything else tries to drag him into darkness."
All these years, I had carried guilt over what my escape had cost him, but I had never imagined he harbored anything beyond professional duty and perhaps friendship.
To know that he had held my memory as sanctuary through months of torture transformed my anguish into something harder, more determined.
"He knows I'm here," I said, the memory of our encounter in the dungeons still raw. "Rheakar made certain of that—paraded me before him like a trophy, forced us both to witness each other's degradation."
"Yes, but he doesn't know about our connection, about Lucien's involvement, about any of the plans taking shape around him." Veyra glanced toward the door, marking our dwindling time.
"When can I see him?" The question emerged with desperate urgency.
"Within the week," Veyra promised, her voice steady with determination.
"I'll arrange it during one of my supervised visits. The guards won't suspect anything unusual in bringing Rheakar's captive Luna to observe what happens to traitors."
"They would make us watch each other's torment for sport," I said, disgust and understanding mingling in equal measure.
"Exactly. Which makes it the perfect cover for passing information, for coordinating what must come next."
Veyra’s expression hardened with purpose.
"But you must be prepared, Lyanna. Seeing Korin again, seeing what these weeks have done to him—it will be worse than before.”
"I understand," I said, though I suspected no preparation could truly prepare me.
"Return to your chambers first," Veyra said, straightening her appearance in the mirror one final time. "I'll follow in a few minutes.”
I left the ladies' room with my heart simultaneously heavier and lighter than when I'd entered. The burden of knowledge weighed upon me, but I no longer carried it alone. In this place of enemies, I had found an ally.