Arabella Toussaint:

I had been in Lucien’s so-called dungeon for three whole days, and no one had come to see me except the Omegas and the guards.

The Omegas appeared around mealtimes, politely asking what I wanted to eat as though I were staying at some hotel instead of being locked behind bars. One of the guards made his rounds every few hours, glancing inside to make sure I was still there. Sometimes he even stopped to ask if I was comfortable or needed anything.

What kind of prisoner was asked if she was comfortable? I had no idea what game Lucien was playing.

Nobody threatened me. Nobody ordered me to kneel or clean floors. Nobody even spoke rudely to me. My meals arrived on time, my bathroom supplies had been delivered with my suitcase on the first day, and I had been allowed to ask for almost anything I needed.

The one thing I hadn’t seen was Lucien himself. By the second day, confusion had given way to boredom. By the third, I was ready to start counting the stones in the walls just to keep myself entertained.

If Lucien had brought me all the way back here because he had some strange idea that locking me inside a comfortable room would make me suffer, he was badly mistaken. The bed was softer than the one in my apartment, the food was good, and I’d even found myself taking afternoon naps.

Some punishment.

Still, I wanted to know how long he planned to keep me here.

That evening, I finished my dinner and pushed the empty tray toward the gate. The guard doing his usual round passed by a few minutes later, and I almost called out to him. I was done being polite. But then I stopped myself.

The next time he came past, I was going to tell him to bring his King down here. Three days was enough. Lucien couldn’t drag me away from my life, lock me up, and then simply forget that I existed.

I opened my mouth— but then common sense slapped me across the face. What exactly was I going to say?

Tell your King I demand to see him?

I almost laughed at myself. He was the fucking Lycan King. And who was I? Not a princess. Not someone important enough to make demands. I wasn’t even his slave anymore.

I dropped back onto the bed with an irritated huff. Maybe I could ask the guard politely to remind His Majesty that his prisoner was still alive.

The sound of the outer gate opening made me sit up. Perfect timing.

Footsteps approached, and I slid off the bed, already preparing the little speech in my head for the guard. The lock turned.

"Listen, I’ve been sitting here for three fucking days, and if your fucking King thinks I’m going to—"

I turned around and had to stop mid-sentence. That wasn’t the guard. Lucien stood inside the gate, one hand tucked casually into his pocket. The faint smirk on his lips told me he’d probably heard enough to know exactly what I’d been about to say.

Lucien didn’t comment on what he’d just overheard. He simply pulled out the chair near the small table and sat down. One ankle rested over the other as he leaned back slightly.

I remained standing for a few seconds, thinking if I should sit or not. Clearly, he hadn’t come all the way down here just to stare at me. He must have gotten the hint because he motioned toward the bed. I quickly sat on the edge of the bed and waited.

He threaded his fingers together and stared at the floor. For the first time since I’d arrived, he looked like he was trying to find the right words.

My eyes dropped to his hands. Those intertwined fingers brought back a distant memory, making my chest tighten. There had been a time when those same fingers used to thread through mine while we walked around.

Come on, Moon Goddess. Before planning my escape, I asked you for a sign. And you gave me one. Now stop making me feel guilty about it.

I curled my own fingers into the bedsheet. Don’t, Arabella. There is no point digging through those painful memories now.

Lucien finally raised his head. "So," he began, his face unreadable, "How was it? Did you enjoy?"

I blinked at the odd question. "Hmm?"

"What I mean is..." He sighed, "... did you enjoy your freedom?"

Of all the things I’d expected him to ask, that certainly wasn’t one of them. "Freedom?"

His eyes remained fixed on my face as he nodded. I wasn’t sure whether this was a trick question. There wasn’t even a hint of a smile to help me figure out what he wanted to hear.

So, I gave him the truth. "It was amazing."

Something flickered in his eyes, but it disappeared too quickly for me to catch.

I smiled, this time without forcing it. "Actually, it was probably the best time of my life. I worked, made friends, traveled. I could wake up and decide what I wanted to do with my own day." A small laugh escaped me. "I didn’t even know how much I’d love that until I had it."

He remained silent, and my smile slowly faded when he gave a single nod. "Do you want it back?"

My brows knitted. "Want what?" I asked him in confusion.

"Freedom." His expression didn’t change. "Do you want it again?" He asked me in a whisper.

"Of course." The answer left me before I even had to think about it. "Anytime. It’s the best feeling in the world."

Another nod. "Fine. I’ll give it to you."

For a second, I thought I’d misunderstood him. "You’ll... what?"

"I’ll give you your freedom. I’ll let you go," He murmured. I stared at him, waiting for the rest. There had to be a but.

Lucien Volkov hadn’t dragged me back to the palace and locked me in a dungeon for three days just to offer me freedom without something in return. So, I waited for the catch.

"Help me find Anika’s murderers."

My back straightened. "What?"

His golden eyes didn’t leave mine. "You heard me, Arabella." Hearing him say my name after three years hurt in a way I hadn’t expected.

I searched his face, trying to understand where this was coming from. "You mean... while I stay in this prison, you want me to somehow help you investigate—"

Lucien was already shaking his head. "No. You won’t be staying here." That shut me up. "You’ll live in the palace," he continued. "Not as my prisoner. Not as anyone’s slave. You’ll be free to go wherever you want inside or outside the palace. No one will order you around, stop you, or question you about what you’re doing."

I stared at him. "And in return?"

"You help me find out who killed my sister. Who was with Victor that night?"

The room fell quiet. Three years ago, his entire family had been convinced that Victor had murdered Anika. I had been brought here to pay for his crime. But now Lucien was sitting in front of me, asking for my help finding whoever had helped Victor that night.

Before I could decide which question to ask first, he reached into his pocket. My body tensed instinctively. Then he pulled out a phone and extended it toward me. "Keep it."

I hesitated before taking it from his hand. The screen lit beneath my fingers.

"You can contact your friends in the city whenever you want," he added. "I’m not cutting you off from them." My gaze snapped back to his face. Was he serious?

I looked down at the phone again, completely lost for words. No chains. No punishment. Freedom inside the palace. A phone to contact my friends. No restrictions. All he wanted in return was my help.

I turned the phone over in my hand, still trying to figure out where the catch was. There had to be one. This was Lucien Volkov after all.

My eyes darted to his face. "Thank you," I said, looking into his golden eyes that were still fixed on me, but the familiar spark in them was gone, replaced by a coldness I couldn’t quite read. Those golden orbs seemed strangely distant.

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