Chapter Sixteen

While thoughts of torture as a means to extract answers had crossed Gwyneth’s mind, she quickly realized that such methods might have played a significant role in shaping The Dark Wolf’s current state. For weeks, Gwyneth had been visiting the cell, attempting to communicate with him. Every time, he had responded with growls and eventually transformed.

However, Gwyneth had observed more and more details about him before these transformations. Most notably, he bore scars—primarily burn scars on his body. These wounds could have been inflicted elsewhere, but that is what led her to a grim realization. While Gwyneth desired answers, it was evident that forceful methods would not yield results. She needed to adopt a different approach.

Up to this point, her interactions had mostly consisted of yelling and repeatedly asking the same questions: Who are you? Where do you come from? Who is behind all of this? Yet, each time, she received identical responses. It was time for a new strategy—one that involved a gentler approach.

Gwyneth decided to personally select some food for the prisoner. While he had been fed, it was always small portions. Today, however, that would change. As she approached the cell, the guards exchanged curious glances, though they refrained from commenting. She offered them a reassuring smile, and one of the guards opened the door to admit her.

Entering the dimly lit room, she found The Dark Wolf in his usual position, head hanging, arms resting on his knees, and his back against the cold stone wall. He made no attempt to cover himself with the nearby blanket. Instead, he remained seated, naked and unmoving.

“I brought you some food,” Gwyneth announced, her gaze meeting The Dark Wolf’s.

His dark eyes began to shine with a deeper and darker red this time, as if a part of him hesitated to fully emerge until he confirmed the contents of the plate she carried.

“Are you hungry?” Gwyneth inquired gently.

The Dark Wolf remained silent, his eyes still reflecting only a hint of red. She approached, placing the food within his reach but not too close. It appeared that he understood the situation.

“I believe you are,” Gwyneth continued. “Very hungry. Bread and water hardly fill an empty stomach.”

Despite her attempts to engage him, The Dark Wolf continued to maintain his silence, watching her with his slightly reddened eyes. Gwyneth knew that if he wanted the sustenance she had brought, he would need to communicate with her.

A deep growl emanated from him, and Gwyneth let out a sigh of frustration. “I want answers. You want food. So speak.”

Another guttural growl escaped him, and Gwyneth shook her head, her patience wearing thin. “It isn’t that difficult. Words come out of your mouth. You knew how to speak once. You can do it again. So, speak.”

His growls grew louder, and his eyes shone even brighter. Slowly, he began to transform right in front of Gwyneth, his snarling face coming dangerously close to her. The chains strained as he lunged, teeth snapping in the air, but he couldn’t reach her. Inches from her face, his sharp teeth bared, yet he remained restrained.

“It would be so much simpler if you just spoke. We’ve wasted so much time like this,” Gwyneth remarked, running her hand through her now-longer hair. She hadn’t cut it since arriving, and it reached below her ears. During her time at the castle with Kiran and the others, who had grown more comfortable around her, she no longer felt the need to maintain her Proctor Gwyneth appearance. Here, she was just Gwyn. Or maybe “just” was the wrong word, she pondered, given her status as Kiran’s mate, technically making her a queen.

“You must have something for me,” she persisted, undeterred by the wolf’s growls. “Anything. Any information that could help us.”

He remained in his transformed state, his eyes still fixated on the food rather than her.

“You’re hungry. If you cooperate, I’ll give it to you,” she urged, yet he showed no sign of reverting to his human form. “I’ll prove it.”

She tossed a piece of meat toward him, and the wolf eyed it warily, uncertain if it was another trick. When Gwyneth made no move to take it back, he cautiously approached and began devouring it. It was evident he was famished, and Gwyneth couldn’t help but smile faintly as he ate. However, when he looked at her again, all that escaped his lips were menacing growls.

“Come on! I fed you. Now you need to give me something. Change back,” Gwyneth implored.

He remained unchanged, prompting Gwyneth to release a heavy sigh, feeling like yet another day had ended in failure. “Very well.”

Gwyneth exited the cell, still holding the uneaten food, while the guards closed the door behind her. She made her way back to the kitchen and took a seat, absentmindedly nibbling a piece of bread.

“No luck, my queen?” inquired Vera, a servant with whom she had grown quite close.

The title felt unusual to Gwyneth, but she was slowly growing accustomed to it as she realized everyone knew her significance to Kiran, so they continued to address her accordingly.

“No luck,” she replied to Vera.

“Maybe tomorrow will be different.”

“I’m growing impatient,” Gwyneth admitted with a sigh. “I don’t understand why I can’t break through to him.”

“You did mention that he showed signs of being hurt. Perhaps that has something to do with it. It’s possible that such trauma could cause a transformation,” Vera suggested.

Gwyneth nodded thoughtfully, though she remained convinced that there was more to the story than just torture. There seemed to be an elusive element at play that she couldn’t quite grasp. She continued chewing on the bread as Vera began working on a batch of dough nearby.

“You’ll find a way. You’re quite clever,” Vera reassured her with a warm smile.

“Thank you,” Gwyneth replied, mustering a faint smile of her own. “But I don’t believe my intelligence alone will be enough this time. He seems… lost.”

“Perhaps what he needs is guidance. Maybe we need to find a way to help all of them.”

“But how?”

“That’s a challenge for you to tackle,” Vera said, winking playfully and causing Gwyneth to chuckle.

“Is all this food for the upcoming party?” Gwyneth inquired, shifting the conversation.

“We’re beginning preparations,” Vera confirmed.

“I told Kiran I didn’t want a party.”

“You’re his queen, and he wants to present you as such,” Vera pointed out.

Gwyneth felt unsure of what to say. Her plan was still to return home, regardless of the time they had spent together or the way her heart raced whenever he was nearby, though the thought had begun to weighed heavily on her.

“Yes, he does…” Gwyneth replied, her voice tinged with a touch of sadness.

“Are the king and you fighting?”

“No, we aren’t fighting,” Gwyneth clarified. “We just don’t see eye to eye on this party.”

“Isn’t that a form of fighting?” Vera probed.

Gwyneth shook her head, her thoughts wandering to the intimate moments they shared every morning and night. Despite their differences regarding the party, their bodies harmonized perfectly. At times, she even found herself craving him, and that both thrilled and frightened her.

“No, not fighting at all. Maybe avoiding the topic a little,” Gwyneth replied.

“He is just trying to do something nice,” Vera said.

“I know, but I’m not a party person,” Gwyneth admitted. While that was true, she couldn’t help but wonder why Kiran was so adamant about presenting her as queen when she was planning to leave.

“Maybe your perspective will change in a few nights,” Vera suggested with a wink.

“I don’t think so,” Gwyneth chuckled. “But I appreciate your optimism. I’m not always able to see the bright side.”

“You have a lot on your mind. It’s perfectly understandable that you can’t always let your guard down and fully enjoy the moment.”

“You seem to have an uncanny ability to understand me,” Gwyneth remarked.

“Well, you do spend a lot of time here. I might just take the liberty of saying that I know you quite well, Your Majesty,” Vera said with a playful smile.

“You certainly have every right to claim that,” Gwyneth agreed. “I’ve gotten to know you quite well too.”

“That’s true. Now, would you like some dessert?”

“For lunch?” Gwyneth raised an eyebrow.

“Has the time ever stopped you?” Vera teased.

Gwyneth couldn’t deny her sweet tooth.

“I guess not,” Gwyneth replied with a smile. “Bring out the cake.”

Vera laughed and retrieved the cake she had prepared, which clearly must have been intended for her as not one piece had been eaten. Gwyneth eagerly dug into the lemon cake placed before her, savoring the delightful explosion of flavors on her tongue. “Love it!” she exclaimed with her mouth full, which elicited a chuckle from Vera.

“It’s just cake,” Vera remarked, echoing her usual response.

“It’s heaven,” Gwyneth added with a smile.