Contract With The Alpha King by Brey Mitchylle

Chapter 57

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"Who was that prisoner?" Fiona asked, her voice barely above a whisper as she stared at Elijah, trying to keep the tension out of her tone. Just a few minutes ago, they were informed by soldiers and guards that a highly dangerous prisoner had escaped the dungeon. They asked Elijah's permission to check the premises, and when they found nothing suspicious, they immediately left.

She thought back to the old man she had seen in the dungeon-the one shackled to the wall, with his piercing eyes and the strange, unsettling aura he radiated. The memory sent a chill down her spine, making her unknowingly grip the arm of her chair to steady herself. Elijah looked at her, his jaw clenched tight. His calm demeanor from earlier had completely vanished. He had been pacing ever since Regor brought the news that the old man had escaped. "A highly dangerous werewolf," Regor had said. "He's escaped, and now the guards are out hunting for him."

Elijah stopped his pacing and turned to Fiona. His eyes were sharp, burning with a frustration she hadn't seen before. "He was a prisoner long before I was born," he began, his voice low and controlled, though it was clear he was barely holding back his anger. "No one knows much about him, not even me. His identity has been kept secret, locked away. The only person who would know for sure is my father. It's knowledge that's supposed to be passed down through the generations of kings. But..." He trailed off, a bitter edge creeping into his voice. "I'm not king yet."

Fiona's heart raced. The fact that even Elijah didn't know who the old man was made the situation even more unsettling. "Do you know anything about his past? Anything at all?" she asked, trying to piece together what she had experienced during her time in the dungeon. Sadly, she knew most of her questions were useless.

Elijah shook his head, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "All records of him were destroyed-burned, erased. I've only ever heard rumors. They say he might have been one of the Five Great Families, but there's no proof. He's been locked away so long that no one remembers his real name, his origins, or why he was imprisoned in the first place."

Fiona's eyes widened at the mention of the Five Great Families. "How old is he?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

"No one knows," Elijah replied, his voice hard. "He could be centuries old for all we know. He's been locked away since before father became king."

my

Werewolves have a shorter lifespan compared to Lycans. Typically, werewolves live between 80 to 100 years, and those who surpass that age are considered elderly. In contrast, Lycans are known to live much longer, often outlasting their werewolf counterparts by centuries.

A wave of unease washed over Fiona as she thought about her encounter with the old man. She had been so focused on escaping the dungeon that she hadn't paid attention to the warning signs, but now, everything seemed to fall into place. "He asked me about my necklace," she said, her voice quiet, but the words hung heavily in the air.

Elijah's head snapped toward her. "Your necklace?" he repeated, his brows furrowing.

"Yes," Fiona confirmed. "When I was in the dungeon, he kept asking me where I got it. He seemed... fixated on it. I didn't think much of it at the time, but now-" She hesitated, the uneasy feeling growing stronger. "Now I'm starting to wonder why."

family," he explained. "It belonged to my great-great-grandmother. It's always been

something deeper in the way he had asked about the necklace. But she couldn't

strange link between the prisoner and the necklace. Her fingers instinctively moved to the pendant resting quietly against her neck.

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Chapter 57

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in his expression. "I don't know. All I know is that the prisoner's past has been deliberately hidden. Whatever it is, it's buried so

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and his obsession with the necklace. "There's something about him, Elijah. I can't explain it, but I feel like there's more to this. He knew something, and I'm not

out what I can," he promised, though his tone was laced with doubt. "But until then, I need you to stay close.

a coincidence. There was something much larger at play, something tied to her family, to Elijah's, and possibly to the very history of the

Fiona made a deliberate pause. "Prisoners are forced to drink some liquid that keeps them... weak." She recalled the liquid that the man was forced to drink. "Both physically and mentally." The old man should have been weak, unable

toward the door, his expression hardening. "Regor," he called, his voice steady but filled with

inside, his posture stiff and alert. He had been stationed just outside the room since

asked cautiously, though he seemed to know the answer

prisoners. The one that keeps them weak, both physically and mentally." Elijah didn't waste any

he said, stepping forward. "All prisoners in the dungeon are forced to take it daily. It was created by our ancestors to prevent any of the prisoners, especially the more dangerous ones, from

forced the old man to drink the liquid. He had struggled, but the moment it entered his system, he weakened. It was

he did," Elijah muttered, more to himself than to anyone else.

throat, drawing both men's attention. "I was able to bypass it," she said. Elijah stopped in his tracks, turning to face her. Regor's eyes widened in surprise.

it, and I could feel its effects almost immediately. It tried to cloud my mind and make it hard to think or reason. But I managed to push

the trial?!" Elijah asked, his voice sharp, laced with