Chapter 110

Emily’s POV

Breakfast with Declan was becoming one of the circles of hell. Only this time, we were not in his room, but in the Great Hall, surrounded by servants:

He was at the head of the table, dressed entirely in black. He lazily spun a silver dagger between his fingers while a group of rogues argued over territory and executions as if they were talking about the morning weather.

I hated every inch of this place. I hated everyone in it. But right now, I needed Declan distracted. More than that,

I needed him annoyed.

“I’m bored,” I announced.

The room didn’t go quiet–it went tense. Several heads turned toward me, and Declan slowly lifted an eyebrow.

“Bored?” he repeated.

“Yes.” I stabbed a piece of fruit with my fork. “Staring at stone walls all day is a special kind of torture. I’m losing my mind.”

A few rogues growled at my tone. Good. Let them be offended.

“You rogues don’t seem to have any actual culture here,” I continued, looking around with a dramatic sigh. “No music. No art. No decent books. Honestly, I’m starting to think rogues are just as uncivilized as the stories say.”

Declan just leaned back, his eyes narrowing as he watched me.

“You really enjoy poking at dangerous people, don’t you?” he asked.

“Am I wrong?” I tilted my head. “What do rogues even read? Torture manuals?”

A dangerous smile slowly spread across his face. “Oh, sweetheart,” he murmured. “You really believe the library tells you the truth about how we live?”

He’d taken the bait. I shrugged, playing it cool.

“Then prove it to me, or can’t you?” I added a look of deliberate boredom. “And I want paints and pencils. I like to

draw.”

The rogues exchanged confused looks. Declan studied me for a few seconds too long, his gaze searching my face. My heart hammered against my ribs, but I kept my expression blank. Did he suspect something?

Then, he let out a low, dark laugh.

“You insult my kingdom and then demand gifts?”

“I’m your prisoner,” I said, keeping my voice sweet. “The least you can do is keep me entertained.”

Amusement flashed in his eyes. “Fine.”

Relief washed over me, but I didn’t let it show. Declan pointed to one of the guards near the door.

“Escort her to the library. Give her whatever she asks for.”

His gaze returned to me, sharp–and focused: “And Emily?”

“Yes?”

“If you try something stupid…” He spun the silver dagger one last time. “…I’ll make sure you regret it.”

A chill ran down my spine, but I forced a smile anyway.

“Good thing I’m not stupid.”

His grin widened, and for a second, I felt like he knew exactly what I was lying about.

The library was massive, far bigger than the home library in the packhouse. The walls were lined with dark wooden shelves that climbed toward the high ceiling. The place smelled of old parchment, dust, and woodsmoke. Two rogue guards stayed posted outside the heavy doors, while Cindy lingered a few steps behind me.

I couldn’t shake her; she followed me everywhere like a shadow.

I moved slowly along the aisles, acting like I was just curious while my mind worked overtime. Almost immediately, I realized Declan hadn’t been lying.

Their books were nothing like the polished, heroic histories of the Rogue Kingdom. These were blunt and brutal. The rogues recorded everything: massacres, failed Alphas, executions, and every betrayal in their bloodlines.

These books didn’t try to hide what wolves really were: predators.

I pulled a heavy volume from the shelf: Silver Weaknesses and Wolf Anatomy. My pulse picked up. Then I found another: Obconite and Magical Suppression. And finally, Crystal Binding Rituals.

I ran my fingers over the pages. There were entire sections dedicated to crystals–far more than I expected. Protection crystals, power amplifiers, soul–binding stones. Then I found it: a passage about enchanted crystals capable of shattering magical bonds and protective barriers.

This was it. This could be the key to breaking the witch’s hold on me.

But I couldn’t take the book; Declan would know the second it went missing. I glanced over my shoulder. Cindy ooked bored, her attention drifting toward the doorway. Moving fast, I grabbed a small scrap of paper I’d tucked away and scribbled down the key words of the spell. My handwriting was shaky, but readable. I folded it tight and

shoved it up my sleeve.

I turned the page and went cold. A section had been ripped out–cut away carefully with a blade. Only a fragment

of the title remained: …Crystal Usage for Delivering Fatal Wounds…

“Find something interesting?” a lazy voice asked from behind me.

I nearly jumped out of my skin. Cindy.

1:19 pm P PTM.

She was leaning against the end of the shelf, watching me with a knowing look. I forced my expression to stay neutral.

“Your books are disturbingly violent,” I said.

“Our history was violent,” she countered. Her eyes drifted down to the crystal book in my hands. Something flashed in her gaze–something I couldn’t read–before she smiled.

“Were you born here? Or did you become a rogue willingly… or were you taken?”

I had been wanting to know her story for a long time. I wanted to understand how she ended up in a place like

this.

“Careful, Emily,” she murmured, her voice low. “Some knowledge changes a person.”

She didn’t give me a real answer, and I didn’t push her for more.

By the time evening arrived, Stella walked into the library. She moved past Cindy without a word, heading deep into the back of the hall. I turned and watched her go, then started following her.

Stella looked pale, her hands shaking beneath her cloak.

“It’s time,” she whispered.

I nodded once, then headed back toward Cindy. “I’m hungry,” I said, sounding annoyed. “Can you get me some food? I’m not ready to leave this section yet.”

Cindy hesitated. “Declan said-”

“I’m busy reading,” I snapped, doubling down on the drama. “Please?”

She sighed, clearly over my attitude. “Fine. Stay put.”

The second she was out of sight, Stella rushed to my side. “Come on.”

My heart hammered against my ribs as we ran toward the far window near the outer wall. [

The cold night air hit my face as we forced the window open. The drop below looked terrifying.

“Hurry,” Stella whispered, her voice tight with panic.

I climbed out first onto the stone ledge before turning back to help her.

She was heavily pregnant now, and getting through that window was a clumsy, desperate struggle. I grabbed her arms, pulling with everything I had while she hauled herself over the edge.

‘Careful”

Finally, she stumbled out beside me, breathing hard. We didn’t wait. We ran.

We rounded the back of the library building, straight toward the castle wall covered in thick black vines.

1:19 pm P PTM

Hope flared in my chest. We were actually doing it.

We started to climb. The vines were vicious, their thorns tearing through my palms and shredding my dress. Stella

slipped twice, nearly falling backward.

“Keep going!” I hissed.

We were so close. I reached upward, my fingers straining for the top of the wall–just a little further.

Then, the sound of applause echoed from below. Slow. Mocking.

Cold dread flooded my body. Slowly, I looked down.

“Well,” Declan stepped out from the shadows of the wall, “this is the most entertaining thing I’ve ever seen.”