Chapter Text
38
With their hearts racing, Isabella and Mrs. Cope were roughly pulled from the carriage. The queen's pregnant belly was tender as she stumbled, the hands of their captors unyielding as they blindfolded them.
"Where are you taking us?" she demanded, trying to keep her voice steady despite the fear that coursed through her veins.
The men ignored her, their gruff laughs echoing through the forest like the calls of predators. They were led through the trees, the sounds of the forest muffled by their panicked breaths and the rustling of leaves underfoot.
The air grew colder, and Isabella could feel the weight of the unknown pressing down on her. The smell of damp stone and the faint scent of smoke grew stronger, hinting at the presence of a large structure nearby.
Finally their blindfold was removed, they had emerged into a clearing, where an imposing castle loomed before them. The drawbridge was down, the portcullis open, and the gates stood tall and ominous. The men pushed them through the archway, the sound of their footsteps echoing in the stillness of the night.
Inside, they were led to a vast chamber that could only be described as a throne room. The walls were adorned with weapons and trophies, a stark contrast to the warm, welcoming spaces of the castle they called home.
A man was there, his presence commanding the room. He was indeed very tall, with a burly frame that suggested strength and brutality. His eyes were piercing, and a cruel smile played on his lips as he took in his captives.
Isabella felt a shiver run down her spine as he approached, his footsteps heavy on the cold stone floor. She could feel his gaze on her, a hungry appraisal that made her want to shrink away and hide.
"Welcome," he boomed, his voice echoing off the high ceilings. "You are most certainly a fine prize."
The queen's mind raced, trying to piece together what was happening. Who was this man, and what did he want with them?
The man took a step closer to Isabella, his hand reaching out to trace a line down her cheek. She flinched, her skin crawling at his touch.
"I am the black wolf," he introduced himself.
"You've done well," he said to his men, his voice deep and gravelly. His eyes never leaving Isabella's form. He circled them like a predator eyeing its prey, his gaze lingering also on Mrs. Cope.
"Take them to the dungeon,"
The Black Wolf's words were like a knife in Isabella's heart. She stumbled, her legs threatening to give out beneath her. Mrs. Cope, ever the strong one, helped her regain her balance, whispering comforting words in her ear.
"Please," Isabella begged, her voice trembling. "We mean you no harm. Have mercy on us."
The men sneered, their expressions unyielding. "It's not our place to grant mercy, lady. It's the will of the Black Wolf that matters here."
They were shoved through the castle, their surroundings a blur of shadows and cold stone. The dungeon was damp and musty, the air thick with the scent of fear and despair. The door to their cell slammed shut with a finality that seemed to echo through the very walls.
"We're not going to die here," Mrs. Cope said firmly, though her own fear was palpable. She took Isabella's hand, her grip tight. "We will find a way out. We have to, for the children.”
Isabella nodded, drawing strength from her words. She had to keep her fear at bay for the sake of her unborn child.
The hours dragged on, the only sound the occasional drip of water and the distant howl of the wind. Isabella felt the cold seep into her bones, but she didn't dare move, afraid to alert their captors to their plight. Mrs. Cope wrapped her arms around her, sharing her warmth, her own fears buried deep beneath a veneer of stoicism.
Finally, the heavy tread of boots approached, and the cell door creaked open. The Black Wolf loomed in the doorway, his eyes gleaming in the torchlight.
"Your Highness," he sneered, his voice filled with malice. "You and your maid are special guests here. Your fate lies in my hands."
He stepped closer, his gaze raking over Isabella's form with a hunger that made her skin crawl. "But fear not," he continued. "I have plans for you both that will ensure your comfort... in exchange for certain... favors."
The implication was clear, and Isabella felt bile rise in her throat. She had to find a way to protect herself and Mrs. Cope from this monster. She had to keep her wits about her, to find a way to escape before it was too late.
But for now, all she could do was look up at him, her eyes filled with a mix of defiance.
The Black Wolf's eyes narrowed, a glint of amusement in their depths. "You think you can resist me?" He laughed, the sound echoing through the damp chamber.
Mrs. Cope stepped forward, placing herself between Isabella and the looming figure. "You'll not lay a hand on her," she declared, her voice firm despite her trembling.
The Black Wolf's smile grew wider, his eyes flashing with something akin to excitement. "Ah, a fiery one, how delightful. Perhaps you'll be the first to learn your place here."
Isabella's heart raced, fear for herself and Mrs. Cope. She would not let this beast harm them, not if she had anything to say about it.
"No," she said determined.
"Fine, maybe another day in confinement will change your mind," the beast said.
*
The sound of the driver's screams echoed through the dungeon, sending a shiver down Isabella's spine. She could hear the crack of a whip, the wet thud of flesh on flesh.
The king would be devastated. He had trusted them, had sent them out into the world to bring comfort and aid to their people, and instead, they had been captured and brought to this hellish place.
The next day, the Black Wolf returned to their cell, his smile wicked. "You did not comply," he said, his voice laced with satisfaction. "Your driver is no longer with us."
Isabella felt a cold knot form in her stomach. She had hoped for a miracle, for some way to prevent this horror, but it seemed that the fates were not on their side.
"We will not bend to your will," she said, her voice trembling with rage and fear.
The Black Wolf's eyes narrowed, and he took a step closer to her, his hand reaching out to grip her chin, forcing her to look at him. "Please don't hurt us," she begged.
But Isabella was not one to be broken so easily. Her resolve grew stronger with each passing moment, fueled by the love for her unborn child and the fierce protectiveness she felt for Mrs. Cope.
The Black Wolf grew increasingly frustrated, his visits to their cell becoming more frequent and his threats more dire. But Isabella held firm, her dignity unshaken despite her circumstances.
Isabella refused again, so one of the guards that was with them was executed.
"You two are next," the black wolf said.
That evening, as the last light of day filtered through the bars of their window, Mrs. Cope spoke up, her voice hoarse from crying. "We will do it," she said.
The Black Wolf's smile grew wide, a chilling sight in the dim light.