Contract With The Alpha King by Brey Mitchylle

Chapter 57 54% "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 tin 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 becking." 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 askedabout 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 askingwhere 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." Elijah's expression darkened. "That necklace was passed down through my family," he explained. "It belonged to my great-great-grandmother. It's always been in our family. Maybe he mistook it for something else." Fiona frowned. The old man hadn't just been curious-there was something more, something deeper in the way he had asked about the necklace. But she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something Elijah didn't know, something neither of them understood about the significance of that necklace.

"Could he be connected to your family somehow?" Fiona asked, struggling to piece together the strange link between the prisoner and the necklace. Her fingers instinctively moved to the pendant resting quietly against her neck. Since Elijah had given it to her, she hadn't taken it off.

1/3 16:58 Sun, Dec 1 B Chapter 57 3 54% Elijah shook his head again, frustration evident 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 deep, only my father holds the key to it." 0 Fiona bit her lip, thinking back to that moment in the dungeon the way the old man had stared at her, the intensity in his eyes, 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 sure it's just a coincidence that he's escaped now." "I'll talk to my father. I'll find out what I can," he promised, though his tone was laced with doubt. "But until then, I need you to stay close. This man is dangerous, and we don't know what he's planning." Fiona nodded, but her thoughts were already spinning in a hundred different directions. She couldn't shake the feeling that the old man's escape wasn't just 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 werewolves themselves. And whatever it was, the answer seemed to be tied to that necklace she wore around her neck-the snecklace the prisoner had been so desperate to know about.

"Just so you know..." Fiona made a deliberate pause. "Prisoners are forced to drink sliquid 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 to escape that place.

Elijah's eyes flicked toward the door, his expression hardening. "Regor," he called, his voice steady but filled with authority.

The door creaked open, and Regor stepped inside, his posture stiff and alert. He had been stationed just outside the room since the soldiers had left, waiting for further orders. His eyes shifted between Elijah and Fiona, sensing the tension in the air.

"Your Highness, is something wrong?" Regor asked cautiously, though he seemed to know the answer was more complex than it appeared.

"Tellabout this liquid you use on prisoners. The one that keeps them weak, both physically and mentally." Elijah didn't waste any time.

Regor blinked, taken aback by the sudden question, but he quickly composed himself. "Yes, Your Highness," 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 escaping. The liquid clouds their minds and weakens their bodies No one should be able to bypass its effects." Fiona's mind flashed back to the dungeon, remembering how the guards had forced the old man to drink the liquid. He had struggled, but the moment it entered his system, he weakened. It was meant to suppress their abilities, to keep them compliant. But the old man had escaped.

"And yet, he did," Elijah muttered, more to himself than to anyone else. He paced again.

Fiona cleared her 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. "What do you mean?" Regor asked, unable to hide the disbelief in his tone.

Fiona took a breath, steadying herself. "Right before the trial, they gavethe sliquid. I drank 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 it out of my system before it could take full effect." "They gave you that liquid before the trial?!" Elijah asked, his voice sharp, laced with fury.