"Are you planning an escape?" the Alpha hisses.
"I could walk outright now,"the man says, rapping his knuckles against one of the bars.
The metal buckles under his touch, collapsing with a sudden crunch as it breaks apart into a shower of dust and sends a section of the bar to the ground with a sad plinking sound.
Okay, that doesn't send the best message. How embarrassing.
Adelaide clears her throat. "Trust me, we're tough. Don't test us."
"Oh, I believe you." He winks at me. "Big bad wolves."
My cheeks heat up. Dammit. What’s with this guy? Stuck in a cell yet brazen enough to act like he has the upper hand.
Fortunately, Adelaide doesn't notice my reaction. Her ears must pick up on the same distant voices and approaching footsteps that I do. Our reinforcements have arrived. She levels one last threatening glare at our captive and strides away. I follow suit.
Our cells couldn’t hold a criminal toddler in their current condition. That’s why we called in reinforcements, witches who will enchant the cells and fortify the bars and stone walls against tremendous strength. Not long ago, we held an Alpha werewolf here in a pinch, and the enchanted cell kept him detained. It should work on this man too.
Once we’re out of earshot from the prisoner, I ask about the Alpha’s plans.
"Look, I know he was trespassing, and we obviously need to figure out why, but what's going to happen to this guy? You're not going to hurt him, right?"
Adelaide turns to me in the darkness. Are my eyes malfunctioning? She looks proud.
"I won’t do a thing." There's matching pride in her voice too. "You did good, Wynn. You caught him, you should see this through. Figure out who our trespasser is and why he's here."
3.Stockholm Syndrome in Reverse
Wynn
After a quick trip to my mother’s kitchen for a peace offering, I navigate the narrow stone passages back to the dungeons. My people skills haven't failed me yet, so I plan on just talking to the prisoner. If Adelaide wanted an interrogation, she’d have sent someone with sharper teeth.
I learned all about keeping the peace from my dad, the former second in command. Our Alphas can bite and break bones just fine on their own, so they need a second who can communicate and manage public relations.
That’s what I’ve been trained for, and I’m good at it, even if Adelaide hasn't given me the position yet.
When I return to the prisoner's cell, he’s sitting casually on the stone bench, one knee propped up as he smirks. "Finally, turn down service. You arrived just in time. I was about to give you a bad review."
I raise an eyebrow. "Do criminals have their own prison rating systems?"
He rises from the bench, sauntering closer to the cell door. "Oh sure, five-star accommodations, would be detained here again. Actually, it's about a zero on amenities, but a five in terms of ability to bust out." He raps his knuckles against the bars.
Nothing happens. Unlike last time, the bars hold firm. His eyebrows draw together and he gives the bars a supreme look of betrayal for abandoning him in his darkest hour. It’s priceless.
"Damn,” he grumbles. “So that's why someone was in here chanting and waving their hands."
"Yep. The bars are now magically fortified. You won't be going anywhere." I cross my arms, leveling him with a serious expression. "Do you want to tell me what you're doing here?"
He only gives me a cheery grin. "Sightseeing."
"At night?"
"Well, you know how it is. The best views are always under the moonlight." He winks, leaning his shoulder against the bars.
Should I be impressed or offended by his audacity? Haven't quite decided yet.
Determined not to let him fluster me again, I take a moment to get my bearings and scan the dungeons. Medieval torture chic at its finest. Cold, miserable, and filthy.
But apparently, someone once attempted to soften the harsh atmosphere with decorative touches. A small gargoyle carved from black stone perches beside the stone slab in the cell, something I missed during my first visit. Is the little creature there to guard the prisoners? Or was it meant to brighten this dismal place? If so, it fails spectacularly. One of the people traipsing through since the prisoner's arrival even tried to dress the creature up by pinning a little red bow tie around its neck.
