Page 34 of Prey of the Lycan Queen
“This is what he didn’t want me to see?” I ask, turning to Zeke. He clenches his teeth and nods once. “Now,” I say, my voice as cold as ice. “I want to know why these people are here.”
The guards share a nervous look before one steps forward, fear making him twitch. “Miss, these are . . . They’re criminals,” he stammers.
“Criminals? You have children in cages! What crimes did they commit?” I ask in disbelief.
The guard gulps, stealing a glance at Zeke before looking back at me. “Petty offenses, miss. Thievery . . . vandalism . . . noncompliance with the rules . . .” His words echo in the chilling silence. Noncompliance with the rules? A snort escapes me, bitter and disbelieving. “And littering, miss,” another guard adds in a small voice, as if this justifies everything.
“And their punishment?”
“They’re on death row, miss.” The words hang heavily in the air, and at first, all I can do is blink at him, praying I heard wrong. I turn to Zeke, his avoidance of my gaze confirming my fear.
“You’re telling me,” I spit, my hands clenching into fists. “You lock these people up and sentence them to death . . . for littering?”
The guards’ pale faces flinch. “That’s not our call, miss,” the first guard responds, his eyes downcast. “It’s the law. We just enforce it.”
“There are children in there!” My voice is like a thunderclap, my anger erupting and echoing around us as my aura slips out so powerfully, it stuns even me for a second, and both guards whimper. The cold anger in me boils over. I march over to the fence, magic sparking at my fingertips. “Well, I am making a call. Release them. Now.”
“We can’t miss,” one of the guards says. “We don’t have the keys. Everything is controlled by drones and King Regan. The gates open automatically when . . . when it’s time.”
The thought of what “time” means for these people churns my stomach. “And what happens then?” I demand, my gaze fixed on Zeke. “Where are they taken?”
The guards glance at Zeke again, their unease palpable. One of them clears his throat. “The old mines, miss. Rumor is they’re thrown down the shafts.”
My heart pounds in my chest. These people, condemned for minor offenses, are led like lambs to the slaughter. The guards go on to describe a system so robotic, so dehumanizing. The prisoners are herded once a month through the one-way entrance, every door controlled by drones, everything automatic. The prospect of a revolt seems unimaginable, an act of certain death. My hands ball into fists, my mind reeling at the scale of Regan’s tyranny. With a growl, I move toward the fence, determined to find a way to open it and free them.
“If you touch that, you’ll alert him that you’re here. That’s assuming someone hasn’t called already. They still have a day or so before they are taken,” Zeke warns, his eyes locked on the fences teeming with drones. His words strike me like a slap across the face. He knows of this and has done nothing?
“And you allow this?” I snarl, rounding on Zeke. “Regan may be your brother, but that doesn’t mean you have to be a part of this.”
“This isn’t my kingdom, Zirah,” he mumbles. “I have no control here.”
“Don’t give me that, Zeke! You’re a king too, but right now, you’re acting like a coward.”
My brutal accusation hits him with as much force as I intended. His face falls because he knows I’m right.
“Take me to the castle,” I order, my gaze hardening. I cast a final glance at the prisoners, my mind buzzing with ways to help them, to overthrow their king and my mate.
After what feels like an eternity, I find myself being driven toward Regan’s castle. Its grandeur leaves me breathless. Yet what catches my attention is a nondescript concrete structure nearby with two guards standing stiffly at its entrance.
“What’s in there?” I ask, despite the sinking feeling in my stomach.
“Nothing you need to see,” Zeke answers, and I glare at him. I direct the driver to stop, ignoring Zeke’s attempts to dissuade me. The curiosity is too intense, and the need to understand the depth of Regan’s tyranny is too urgent.
As I approach, the guards step forward. “Move aside,” I order, but they lift their guns. “I said move aside,” I bark.
“This is Regan’s domain,” a guard says, eyeing Zeke beside me. “There is no way you can go in without his order.” The steel in his voice reminds me of the guards from earlier. Do they genuinely fear him so much that not one person has dared to oppose him?
“We were instructed not to let anyone pass,” another states, his voice firm.
“I don’t care. Either step aside or . . .” I whistle, and Gnash, Hunter, and Shadow step forward. One guard lifts his gun, but the other grabs the end of it. “That’s Gnash, the king’s wolf,” he warns, and the man lowers his weapon like he knows shooting him will earn him a slow, tortured death.
His head cocks to the side. “You leave us no choice. I have to call the king. King Regan has specific instructions. Not even his brothers are permitted down there.”
“Call your king. I will deal with him too,” I state firmly, pushing past the guards who are too shocked to resist. The moment the door swings open, a stench so foul hits me that it feels like a physical blow. The scent of rotting flesh and despair fills my nostrils, making me gag. I follow the steps down; the air is thick and stagnant. As I reach the bottom, I stop at the sound of whimpering and chains rattling in the dark.
Chapter Twenty-Three
As my eyes adjust to the dim light, I am greeted by the sight of emaciated men shackled to walls. Their pitiful moans fill the dank room, their pleading eyes begging for mercy. The reality of the situation, of their predicament, is a brutal slap to my conscience.
