Seven Years in the Dungeon, I Died and Awakened

After the seventh time Alpha Arthur locked me in the dungeon, a voice spoke in my head. "Die, and you'll awaken." It told me I wasn't just human. Witch blood slept in my veins—blood that would ignite only in death. So I became the perfect Luna. I stopped caring that Arthur spent every night in Elara's chambers. I stopped obsessing over his promise—one mate, forever. When Leo knocked over the stew I'd made, I just had the maid wipe his hands. Said I'd never cook for him again. When the pack member brought that bowl of wolfsbane brew—even knowing I was pregnant—I drank it without hesitation. By the time Arthur arrived, the floor was soaked in blood. He pressed his silver blade to my throat, voice breaking. "Sera, do you hate me this much?" "You're a healer. You know what that poison does. And you still killed our pup?" I stared at the blade. Smiled. Then leaned into it. ...... The moment the blade pierced my skin, Arthur's golden eyes went wide. He yanked the dagger back, but it was too late. The silver edge slashed across my throat. Blood pearled along the wound, soaking into my white cotton dress. The dagger clattered to the floor. Arthur dropped to his knees, pressing his hand against my neck, trying to stop the bleeding. "Sera, you've lost your damn mind!" Pity I didn't die. I answered his first question instead. "You said it yourself, Alpha. One son is enough." "If I bore you another pup, wouldn't that make poor widowed Elara feel inadequate? After all, she only gave your brother a daughter before he died." Arthur's breath hitched. "What did you just call me?" I blinked. It took me a moment to realize how distant we'd become. After we mated, I always called him Arthur. His mother despised me. She said my low birth and lack of upbringing made it improper to call him by his name. But I refused to change. Now, I'd finally learned my place. His fingers tightened around my throat. I gasped in pain. He loosened his grip, just slightly. His voice was a snarl in my ear. "I told you. My brother's death left the Pack unstable. Taking Elara under my protection was a necessity. Once she bears a male heir, I won't touch her again." "I'm begging you, Sera. Just wait a little longer. Please." Wait. That word had kept me alone for three years. From once a month, to every single night—Arthur sleeping in Elara's bed while I lay awake, crying until I had nothing left. I waited through Elara's pregnancy. Then Arthur moved into her wing entirely, claiming she needed protection during her vulnerable state. I waited another year. She gave birth to a daughter. And still, he kept going to her chambers. I couldn't wait anymore. So I fought back. I forbade him from seeing her.I screamed, cried, threatened—like a madwoman. All I wanted was my mate. The one who was supposed to be mine alone. But to Arthur, I'd become an insufferable, jealous shrew. Funny. When he marked me, he said I was his fated mate. Said he loved my bold, unfiltered heart. Swore I'd be his only one. No others. Over seven years, he locked me in the Dungeon again and again. To teach me a lesson. To make me like Elara. Graceful. Compliant. Chained in the cold and dark until I could barely stand. All I got: "Sera, when will you learn?" The pup in my belly came from a Pack celebration. Arthur got drunk and stumbled into my bed. I thought he'd come to make peace. But when he reached his climax, he moaned Elara's name. I swallowed the bitterness like bile mixed with blood. I lifted my head and looked him dead in the eye. "You don't need to lie to me anymore, Alpha." "From now on, go to Elara whenever you want. Stay the night. I won't say a word." "And if that's still not enough, I'll request a severing of the mate bond. I'll set you both free."

Arthur's chest heaved, veins bulging in his neck. "Sera, how much longer are you going to torture me?" "Elara and I are nothing. She's my brother's widow. That's it!" He sounded so sincere. Like he actually believed what he was saying. I shook my head. "You're overthinking it, Alpha. I mean every word." Something I said set him off again. He shoved me. Hard. My head cracked against the corner of a wooden chair. Pain exploded through my skull. He looked panicked for half a second, reaching out like he wanted to help. But the damage was done. My pulse weakened. Breath came shallow. I knew my body was shutting down. The wolfsbane. The blade. The blow to my skull. My human body couldn't survive all three. I knew that now. I had maybe twenty-four hours left. I pushed Arthur's hand away and staggered to my feet. "Leave, Alpha. I'm tired." I turned toward my bedroom. As I walked, blood dripped from beneath my skirt, leaving a dark trail across the floor. Suddenly, the door burst open. Leo—seven years old—charged in and hurled his toy at me. It struck my cheek. I felt the sting, the warmth of blood. Arthur froze for a moment, then grabbed Leo by the scruff of his neck and swatted him. "What the hell are you doing?!" Leo wailed, but he didn't apologize. "I don't want her as my mother!" "Why can't she just stay locked up in the Dungeon forever?!" Arthur's face went rigid. "Who taught you to say that?" Leo squirmed free, his little face red with indignation. "You did! You said you hated her!" "You said if she hadn't saved you that day in the mountains, you never would've mated a lowborn herbalist!" "And she's always so mean to Aunt Elara! She doesn't deserve to be Luna!" He pointed a chubby finger at me, his face twisted with childish hatred. "Bad mother! Father and I both hate you! Just disappear already!" Out of the mouths of pups. Every word was a blade, shredding what little hope I had left. Years ago, Arthur was ambushed during a border skirmish. I was seven months pregnant, but I rode out anyway with a small cavalry to rescue him. We won. Barely. I took over a dozen wounds. The trauma triggered early labor. I was dying on that blood-soaked bed when Arthur gripped my hand, tears streaming down his face. "Sera, don't leave me." "If you die, I'll follow you. I swear it." So I fought. I survived. But Leo was born too early. The Pack physician said he'd die within three days. I refused to believe it. I stayed awake for weeks, researching every remedy, every obscure herb. Leo's cries grew weaker and weaker. Desperate, I made a pilgrimage to the Moon Temple. Barefoot through the snow. Every three steps, I knelt and bowed. Every five steps, I prayed. My knees bled. My feet went numb. Blood stained the stone path all the way to the top. I don’t know if my sincerity moved the Moon Goddess. But in the end, Leo survived. But his body remained fragile. When winter came, I kept him indoors. Made him rest. Watched what he ate. Elara let him run wild in the snow. Fed him frozen meat and sweets. Days later, he'd collapse. Weak. Shivering. Too sick to shift. Arthur was always away on Pack business. Elara avoided him, terrified of getting sick herself. I was the one who sat with him. Nursed him back to health. When he recovered, he hated me for it. Blamed me for keeping him locked up. For the bitter tonics. For the rules. But Elara? She was the fun one. The one who gave him treats and freedom. She was the one he loved.

Arthur's expression darkened. "Leo, shut your mouth! Don't say another word!" Then he turned to me, scrambling to explain. "He's just a pup. Someone in the household must've been gossiping—" In the past, I would've been devastated. I would've lectured Leo, tried to teach him right from wrong. All I ever got in return was his hatred. Now? I was too tired to care. Arthur noticed the change in me. He frowned, studying my face. Then he decided I was playing games. "What are you plotting now, Sera?" "Playing the stoic martyr doesn't suit you. You just look pathetic." "Since you lost the pup, stay in your chambers and recover. And stop targeting Elara and her daughter." He grabbed Leo's hand and stormed out. The moment they stepped outside, I heard them laughing. Arthur said he was going to buy Elara a new sapphire necklace. Leo said he was going to use his allowance to buy his baby sister a gift. I still wore the moonstone pendant Arthur gave me at our engagement. He'd been shy. Said he'd get me something better someday. Ten years later, the pendant was tarnished and cracked. He never kept that promise. At every Pack gathering, I was the poorest-dressed Luna in the room. Whenever I asked for new jewelry, Arthur said we needed to be frugal. The Pack's expenses were high. Then spent fortunes on enchanted oils and potions for Elara. I'd given him everything. And he'd given me nothing. A wave of dizziness crashed over me. My vision darkened at the edges. My fingers had gone numb. Cold spread through my limbs. The voice whispered through the fog: Ten hours remaining. My body was shutting down. I had ten hours left. I sat at my vanity, staring at the hollow-eyed woman in the mirror. I took off the moonstone pendant. Ran my fingers over its worn surface. Then I snapped it in half and tossed it into the fireplace. I spent the next hour burning everything I'd ever made for Arthur. Embroidered leather pouches. Woven riding gloves. Little shirts I'd sewn for Leo when he was a baby. Two entire chests, full of hope and heartbreak. I watched it all turn to ash. When the last ember died, I lay down on my bed. And I waited. But the door slammed open. Arthur stormed in, fury radiating off him in waves. He grabbed me by the arm and hauled me out of bed. "I knew you couldn't behave." He threw something at my feet. A cloth pouch, reeking of dark magic. Filled with bone fragments and dried wolfsbane. Elara stood in the doorway, cradling her infant, tears streaming. "Arthur, I don't want to believe Sera would do this." "But this curse bag... it was hidden in her room. And it has my daughter's name written inside..." Her voice broke. Arthur's face went cold. He kicked me in the chest. I felt ribs crack. "Jealousy is one thing, Sera. But cursing an infant? My daughter?" Blood poured from my mouth, splattering across the floor. The wound on my neck tore open again. Arthur loomed over me, disgust written across his face. "Nothing to say? Not even going to deny it?" I wiped the blood from my lips and glanced at the curse bag. Then I laughed. "That fabric is rare. Even pack Alphas struggle to get it." "You gave Elara every bolt that came into this estate, Arthur." "So how did I get my hands on it?" Arthur's expression shifted. He stared at the pouch. Elara's face went pale. "Are you accusing me? I did use that fabric for dresses, but I lost the scraps weeks ago—" "Enough!" Arthur cut her off, unwilling to question his precious widow. In his mind, Elara was pure. Innocent. So it had to be me. "Stop making excuses, Sera." "My daughter is just a newborn. Elara is still recovering." "If you can't tolerate this Pack, then this Pack has no place for you." He snapped his fingers. "Lock her in the dungeon. No food. No water." "She stays there until she learns."

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