Chapter 3 Dungeon Days

• Cold stone pressed against Bobby's back as she curled into the corner of her cell. Twenty-nine days. Twenty-nine sessions of flogging that left her skin raw and her spirit tested but unbroken. The dungeon's darkness had become familiar now, almost comforting compared to what awaited her when guards dragged her out for punishment.
• Bobby traced her fingers over the crude markings she'd scratched into the wall, counting each day of her imprisonment. The first day remained vivid in her memory—the shock of it, the humiliation they'd intended.
• They had stripped her down to minimal clothing and chained her to a post in the central courtyard. Alpha Matthew wanted a spectacle, a warning to others who might challenge pack hierarchy. The first lash had stolen her breath, the unexpected intensity forcing a gasp from her lips. Five lashes later, blood trickled down her spine.
• "Had enough yet, outcast?" The guard had sneered.
• Bobby had merely lifted her chin, eyes narrowed. "Is that all you've got?"
• Her defiance earned her five more lashes. When they finally unchained her and dragged her back to the cell, her legs had barely supported her. Still, she hadn't cried. Not once.
• "You'll break eventually," the head guard promised, shoving her into the dank cell. "They all do."
• Bobby had collapsed onto the hard stone floor, pressing her forehead against the cool surface to soothe the fever building in her body.
• "No," she'd whispered to herself. "I won't."
• The first week passed in a blur of increasing pain. Each day brought new guards, heavier whips, and more lashes. They'd been methodical, allowing just enough healing between sessions to ensure she remained conscious for the next round. Sleep came fitfully, haunted by nightmares, and interrupted by the moans of other prisoners.
• On the third day, Chad had visited. He stood outside her cell, eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he observed her wounds.
• "You know, all this could stop if you'd just submit," he suggested, his voice silky with false concern. "Acknowledge your place. Become mine."
• "I'd rather die," Bobby spat, turning away to hide the tremor in her hands.
• Chad's laughter echoed through the dungeon. "That can be arranged too, little wolf. Nothing would please me more than watching you break.”
• Memory flashed through Bobby's mind: Chad standing behind his mother, a smirk on his face as she validate murdering my mother of a crime she didn't commit.
• "My mother never seduced your father," Bobby hissed through clenched teeth. "Your mother murdered an innocent woman."
• Chad lunged forward, gripping the cell bars until his knuckles whitened. "Your mother was a scheming whore who tried to destroy my family. Luna Diana delivered justice."
• Bobby turned her face to the wall, refusing to let him see how deeply his words cut. She had never hated anyone as much as she did at that moment.
• "Tomorrow's session will be doubled," Chad finally murmured, stepping back from the bars. "Perhaps that will loosen your tongue about where your loyalty truly lies.”
• By day seven, Bobby had developed a strange relationship with pain. She'd memorized its rhythm, anticipated its peaks, and learned to ride through the worst of it by retreating into her mind. The guards noticed.
• "She's not screaming anymore," one muttered. "Alpha won't be pleased."
• "Then hit harder," another replied.
• They did.
• During these sessions, Bobby's mind would drift back to her childhood, to the small cottage at the edge of Silvercrest territory where her mother had raised her away from prying eyes.
• "Why can't I play with the other children?" she'd asked once, watching from afar as pack children ran through meadows together.
• Madeleine had pulled her close, stroking her hair with gentle fingers. "The world is complicated, my sweet. Sometimes it's safer to remain unseen."
• Bobby hadn't understood then. Loneliness had been her constant companion, broken only by her mother's stories and lessons. Madeleine had taught her to read, to identify plants, to move silently through the forest—but never to shift. Never to acknowledge the presence she felt stirring inside her when the moon grew full.
• "If anyone asks, you tell them you are wolf-less," Madeleine had instructed, her eyes intense with fear. "Promise me, Robin.”
• She'd nodded, though the name felt strange. Her mother was the only one who called her Robin. To herself, she'd always been Bobby.
• "Why can't I be like the others?" she'd asked one night, thirteen years old and aching with the pressure building beneath her skin.
• "Because you're special," Madeleine had whispered, tears glimmering in her eyes. "Too special for them to understand."
• That night, alone in her room, the pressure had become unbearable. Moonlight streamed through her window, calling to something wild and ancient within her blood.
• "Hello," she'd whispered to the presence in her mind. "I'm Bobby."
• The presence had nuzzled against her consciousness, warm and comforting.
• "I've been waiting for you.”
• From that moment, Bobby had never truly been alone again. The voice in her head had become her secret, her strength, her companion through the years of isolation that followed.
• "Why does mother make us hide?" Bobby had asked during one of their silent conversations.
• "She fears for us," the voice had replied. "There is danger in being seen."
• The answer hadn't satisfied her then. It didn't satisfy her now, lying broken on a dungeon floor.
• By the third week, Bobby's body had transformed into a canvas of partially healed scars and fresh wounds. The pack healer visited only when absolutely necessary—when infection threatened to end their entertainment prematurely.
• "You're a fool," the healer murmured once while applying salve to her back. "Why not just give them what they want?"
• Bobby stared at the wall, focusing on a small crack that had begun to fascinate her during long hours of isolation. "Because what they want isn't theirs to take."
• Food became a rarity—a moldy piece of bread here, a cup of stale water there.
• "Feeding time, outcast." A guard shoved a tray through the small opening at the bottom of her cell door. "Better eat up. Alpha's son becomes Alpha-in-training tomorrow. Special session planned for you."
• Bobby dragged herself toward the tray, wincing as scabs broke open across her back. "How thoughtful."
• The guard snorted. "You won't think so tomorrow."
• That night, Bobby dreamed of running beneath a silver moon, her paws barely touching the forest floor. Freedom tasted like pine and wildflowers on her tongue. Her wolf ran alongside her, their spirits momentarily unfettered by physical constraints.
• "We must prepare," the voice told her in the dream. "Our time approaches."
• "For what?" Bobby asked, reveling in the sensation of wind through her fur.
• "For truth," the voice replied, her silver-blue eyes glowing in the moonlight. "For justice.”
• Bobby woke to darkness, the dream lingering in her mind like a promise. Her wounds throbbed less today. Strange energy hummed beneath her skin.
• "You're healing faster," the voice observed within their shared consciousness. "The moon grows full."
• ‘They'll just hurt us again tomorrow,’ Bobby thought back, tracing the outline of her most recent scars.
• "Let them try," the voice growled, its presence strengthening as Bobby's resistance grew. "We are stronger than they know.”
• ***
• The final week brought a new kind of torment. Word had spread through the pack about Chad's upcoming Alpha ceremony. Every guard reminded her that once Chad took power, her punishment would move beyond mere flogging.
• "He has plans for you," one guard whispered, eyes roving over her body in a way that made Bobby's skin crawl. "Special plans."
• "Tell me something," Bobby asked, her voice hoarse from disuse. "Did Luna Diana always hate my mother? Or did it start after Alpha Matthew showed her too much attention?"
• The guard's hand struck her face, fast and hard. "Watch your tongue, prisoner. Luna Diana is beyond reproach."
• Blood filled Bobby's mouth, copper and warm. She smiled, letting it stain her teeth. "Truth hurts, doesn't it?"
• The rage in the guard's eyes confirmed what she'd suspected all along. Her mother hadn't been the aggressor—she'd been the victim of a jealous Luna's wrath.
• That night, memories of her mother's lifeless body, her blood soaking up the earth played on endless repeat behind Bobby’s eyes.
• Bobby's grief had hardened into something dangerous that day. Something patient. Something waiting for the right moment.
• On the twenty-ninth day, Bobby sat huddled in her cell, listening to the increased activity above. Preparations for tomorrow's ceremony had everyone distracted. The guards had been particularly vicious during her session, eager to finish and join the celebrations.
• Night fell, and silence descended upon the dungeons. Most prisoners had been temporarily released for the ceremony—a show of the Alpha's "mercy." Only the most dangerous remained. Only Bobby.
• Hours passed in darkness. Bobby dozed fitfully, startling awake at the slightest sound. Her dreams were filled with silver light and haunting whispers she couldn't quite understand.
• The sound of metal scraping against metal jolted her fully awake. Someone was at her door. Not the usual guard—this person moved differently, hesitated before inserting a key into the lock.
• Bobby pressed herself against the wall, muscles tensed despite the pain. The door creaked open, revealing a hooded figure silhouetted against the dim torchlight from the corridor.
• "Who's there?" Bobby demanded; her voice stronger than she felt.
• The figure stepped inside, closing the door silently behind them. Slender hands reached up, pulling back the hood to reveal the last face Bobby expected to see.
• "Lulu?" Bobby breathed, recognizing Alpha Matthew's daughter—Chad's sister.
• Lulu pressed a finger to her lips, eyes darting nervously toward the door. "We don't have much time. I've come to help you.”
• "Why would you help me?" Bobby asked, suspicion coloring her words. "Your mother killed mine. Your brother—"
• "Is a monster," Lulu finished, her voice barely audible. "Like my mother. What they did to your mother was wrong. What they're doing to you is wrong."
• She extended her hand, offering something that gleamed in the darkness. A key. "Tomorrow night, during Chad's ceremony, everyone will be in the central clearing. Use this on the south exit. My friend Adira will meet you there with supplies."
• Bobby stared at the key, hardly daring to hope. "If this is a trap..."
• "It's not," Lulu interrupted, pressing the key into Bobby's palm, and closing her fingers around it. "I swear on my life."
• "Why now?" Bobby asked, clutching the cold metal tightly.
• Lulu's eyes darkened. "Because tomorrow Chad becomes Alpha. His first official act will be to claim you as his—by force if necessary. He's been planning it for months.”
• Cold dread pooled in Bobby's stomach. Chad's obsession with breaking her, with possessing her, had always hovered beneath his cruelty.
• "There's something else," Lulu whispered, glancing over her shoulder nervously. "Something about your mother. Something I overheard my parents arguing about."
• Bobby leaned forward, heart pounding. "What?"
• Footsteps echoed in the corridor. Lulu's eyes widened with panic.
• "I have to go," she hissed, pulling her hood back up. "Tomorrow night. South exit."
• She slipped through the door, locking it behind her just as a guard rounded the corner.
• Bobby clutched the key against her chest, its edges digging into her palm. For the first time in twenty-nine days, something dangerous flickered to life inside her.
• Hope.
• "We're ready," the voice whispered in her mind. "Tomorrow night, we run."
• "Tomorrow night," Bobby agreed, closing her eyes as moonlight filtered through the tiny window of her cell, "we get our revenge.”