Page 85 of Beneath the Thorned Crown

“I don’t care if you want my soul, Hugo,” I growl, cutting him off. “I need to know where Samuel is keeping her. What’s his plan?”

I hear Hugo exhale slowly, like he’s weighing his words carefully. I don’t have time for his games. I’ve lost enough already. Every second counts.

I can’t think about the consequences. Not now. Not with Isabella in danger.

Finally, Hugo speaks again, his voice almost resigned.

“Alright,” he says, his tone flat, and I know I’ve worn him down. “Samuel’s taken her to the abandoned castle. The one his grandfather owned.”

“That motherfucker…”

I feel the air leave my lungs, the words slamming into me like a brick wall. The abandoned castle. Of course. It’s the one place no one goes to. The one place hidden from the world, where secrets are buried beneath the walls. Samuel's lair.

I can already see it in my mind: the crumbling stone, the darkened windows, the silence that always feels like it’s smothering you. I’ve been there once, long ago, but it feels like a lifetime since then. Since everything went to hell.

I grit my teeth, my grip tightening on the steering wheel until my fingers ache.

I end the call without waiting for him to respond, throwing the phone into the passenger seat with a growl of frustration. I don’t want to owe him anything. But if it means getting Isabella back, I’ll do whatever it takes.

I push the car even harder, the engine roaring as I hit the accelerator. The wind howls through the cracked windows, and the night feels endless. My pulse pounds in my ears, drowning out everything except the thought of Isabella. I have to get to her. I can't let her fall into Samuel's hands.

As I speed down the street, my thoughts race. What the hell is Samuel planning? What does he want with her? I had a feeling this would happen. Samuel and his obsession. It’s always been about control, about power, and now Isabella—my weakness, my fucking vulnerability—has become his new plaything.

I slam on the brakes, the tires screeching as I round a sharp corner, barely avoiding a parked car. The car lurches but I keep it steady, pushing forward.

Every turn I take, every mile I drive, I feel my anger burning brighter, my need to protect her becoming an uncontrollable fire. I’ve never been more desperate in my life, and it makes me reckless.

“Fuck!” I shout, slamming my fist into the dashboard. I can’t let Samuel win. I can’t let him hurt her. It’s all my fault, I know it is and I need to fix this.

The phone in the passenger seat vibrates again, but I don’t look at it. I already know it’s Charles, or one of my men, calling to tell me what I don’t need to hear. I’m past the point of caring. I only care about getting to that fucking castle before it’s too late.

I make another sharp turn, and the castle comes into view.

The abandoned castle looms in the distance, dark and ominous, perched on the edge of a cliff, looking out over a wide expanse of forest and rolling hills. It’s a place steeped in history, in secrets, and tonight, it’s a place of danger. I can see the silhouette of the castle in the distance, its towers reaching toward the sky like dark fingers, and my pulse quickens as I get closer.

I don’t know what I’ll find when I get there. I don’t know if I’ll make it in time. But I know one thing for sure: I’m not walking away from this without her. I’ll burn this entire place to the ground if I have to.

I don’t care what it takes. I’m going to save her.

And if Samuel Delgado gets in my way? I’ll make him regret the day he ever laid eyes on her.

Chapter 23 - Isabella

The chill seeps into my bones.

I wake slowly, my head pounding, my body aching from the rough handling of Delgado’s men. The stench of mildew and damp stone fills my nostrils, making my stomach churn. The air in the room is stale, almost rotten—the ghosts of the past still lingering in this place.

A castle, they called it. Once grand, maybe. Now, nothing but decay and dust, walls that have witnessed too much bloodshed. And if Samuel gets his way tonight, it won’t stop.

My wrists are bound, the rope cutting into my skin. I don’t panic. Panic is for people who have a way out. I test the binds, feeling the give in the knots—not much, but something to work with.

A slow chuckle echoes from the shadows.

“You’re awake.”

Samuel Delgado steps forward, his movements slow, a predator savoring the moment before the kill. The way he looks at me makes my skin crawl. Not with fear, but with revulsion.

“Your men hit like cowards,” I bite out, lifting my chin despite the pounding in my skull. “Didn’t have the balls to fight me properly?”

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