THIRD PERSON
The dungeons are silent. Not empty but heavy. The kind of silence that presses against the chest and lingers in the bones.
Torches flicker along cold stone walls, their light uneven, casting long shadows that seem to move when no one is watching.
At the far end two cells. Two prisoners. Claire and Bella. Separated. For a reason.
Claire stands when footsteps echo down the corridor. Her posture straight. Unbroken. Even now.
The cell door remains locked. But she doesn’t step back. Doesn’t lower her gaze.
“You came,” she says, voice edged with mockery.
Alpha Scavia stops just outside her cell. Beside him Elara. Calm. Observing.
“You attacked my territory,” Scavia says flatly.
Claire smirks. “You mean my territory.”
Silence. Then “Not anymore.”
Her eyes flash. “
