chapter 5

The silence in the room stretched, thick and heavy with unspoken promises and veiled threats. Kaelen watched Silas's retreating form until the door hissed shut, leaving her once again in the flickering, solitary light. She stood for a long moment, the ghost of his touch still lingering on her cheek, a cold brand of possession. This wasn't a game she was used to playing. Her life had been a series of clear-cut choices: kill or be killed, run or fight. This was a tangled web of manipulation, and Silas was the spider at its center.

She walked over to the small table and picked up the tin cup. The liquid inside was water, clean and cool. The food in the bowl was a thick stew, surprisingly savory, with real meat and what looked like actual vegetables. It was a luxury in the wasteland. It was also a sign of The Citadel's power and, by extension, Silas’s. He wasn't just offering her survival; he was offering her a taste of what life could be under his rule.

Kaelen ate slowly, her senses on high alert. The food was good, but she couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. She ran a hand over the walls, feeling the cold, rough-hewn concrete and the seams of salvaged metal. She was in a cell, albeit a comfortable one. She was a captive, no matter how he dressed it up. The only way out was through him.

Hours bled into one another. The flickering light above her head finally gave out, plunging the room into darkness. Kaelen didn't mind. She was more comfortable in the dark. She lay on the cot, listening to the muffled hum of the fortress, the distant shouts, the low thrum of machinery. She listened for a pattern, a weakness, a way out. She was a weapon, as Silas had said, and a weapon needed to know its target, its angle of attack.

Sometime in the deep night, the door hissed open again. Kaelen was instantly on her feet, her hand on her sidearm. The sudden glare of a flashlight blinded her.

"Easy, wolf," Silas's voice said from behind the light. "It's just me."

He lowered the flashlight, and Kaelen's eyes adjusted. He was dressed in a simple tunic, his hair disheveled, as if he had been pulled from sleep. He wasn't alone. Another man, one of Gideon's hulking guards, stood behind him. The man's eyes were wide with a mix of fear and confusion. He was holding a datapad, his hands trembling.

"Gideon is awake," Silas said, his voice a low, urgent murmur. "He's demanding to see you. Now."

Kaelen felt a jolt of adrenaline. Gideon. The man who had taken everything from her. The man she had been hunting for months. She had walked right into his den. The trap was sprung.

"What's the plan?" she asked, her voice steady despite the frantic pounding of her heart.

Silas's eyes, even in the dim light, were all cold, hard calculation. "The plan is to survive. Gideon will try to break you. He’ll want to see you crumble. Don’t. Play the part of the captured, broken wolf. He wants to know why you ran. Tell him you were scared. Tell him anything he wants to hear. Just don't tell him about me."

He gestured to the guard. "He'll escort you. He knows nothing. Don't speak to him. He's just a puppet on a string."

Kaelen looked at the terrified guard and then back at Silas. "And what are you going to be doing?"

"I'm going to be watching," he said, a ghost of a smile touching his lips. "I’m going to be waiting. And when the time is right, I’ll be there. You're not alone in this, Kaelen. Not anymore."

With that, he stepped aside, gesturing for the guard to take her. Kaelen hesitated for a moment, her eyes locked with his. The shared glance was a silent conversation, a promise of a future forged in blood and betrayal. She was walking into the lion's den, but for the first time in a long time, she didn't feel alone. She felt like part of a pack. A dangerous, two-person pack, with a shared kill in mind. The game had just moved to the next level. She walked past Silas, a prisoner heading to her fate, and she had never felt more in control.

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