AMANDA'S POV
The guards dragged me out of the Council Chamber and into the long, shadowed hallway. My heart was a cold, heavy stone in my chest. But beneath the fear, there was relief—sharp and bitter.
At least Mia isn't here. At least she doesn't have to watch.
The dungeon stairs loomed ahead—narrow, dark, smelling of damp stone and rust. I'd never been down there before. I'd only heard stories. Wolves who entered those cells didn't always come out the same.
Then a figure stepped into our path.
Donovan.
He stood with his arms crossed, his back straight, his jaw set in that familiar line I'd seen a thousand times before. But his eyes—his eyes were different. They weren't cold. They weren't mocking.
They were angry.
"Release her," he said.
The guards hesitated.
