Bite or Howl

Chapter 27

Phoebe POV

It was all starting to piece together.

Catherine, who wanted to use power instead of peace.

Catherine, who complained about being second, no promised throne.

Catherine, who knew where our dinner would be held.

Catherine, who had extra information given to her.

Catherine, who gave me those muffins I gave Felix which made him sick. Those muffins.

He smiles but then it slowly fades. His hand moves down to his stomach, clutching it. "Lix, are you alright?" I ask him. His face goes sour as if he'd just digested lemons. "I'm okay. My head just started blaring, I'm gonna go and get some air."

And ever since then, Felix changed. So was Catherine the one corrupting him?

Catherine was the only person who I thought understood me throughout my time in Mount Verona. She was the only one that really got to know me and get close. She taught me how vampires are. She's the whole reason why I really stayed here.

But now that I think of it, all she ever really wanted was the throne. And she was using me to get to it. She was using my brother. She was using my family.

But if Catherine was the reason for all of this, that means that Nick was wrongly imprisoned.

And I needed to get him out.

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Running through an empty castle, dress tearing apart and heels in my hands. My foot jumps over broken glass shards and bleeds onto the ground, painting red stains onto the stone floor. I needed to tell Chase everything. The entire castle had been emptied out, guards surrounding the city and on the lookout for the black witches. I'm sure Catherine had something to do with that too. Everything's starting to come together. But nothing makes sense.

"Nick!" My voice echoes throughout the entire dungeon, my projection jumping from the walls and surrounding me. The dungeons are empty and quiet, lonely and still. "Nick!" I call out again, but no answer. Pacing back and forth, I look through every cell. My head turns from right to left, peeping through and looking for Nick. My eye catches on something at the very end of the hall. A paper hanging from a nail in the wall, holding it up. I march towards it, praying that it has the location of the prisoner's and which cell they're in. With my luck, it happened to be printed in very faint markings.

Nicholas Fang , C37

And with a small glance at the paper, I turn my head and dash for cell 37. My hair flies in my face when I do so, sticking to the gloss on my lips and making it hard for me to maneuver.

"Nick!?" I then yell, calling into the hallway and the cell numbers appear to be in their 40's. I'm almost there. "Nick!" I yell louder, hoping to find him somewhere. The cells are empty and filled with dust. I've never been down here before and to be honest, I was expecting a hall full of criminals that had been thrown into their cells, crouched down in the corner and throwing rubber balls at the wall which they spent their entire day doing.

Which is quite disappointing.

My head is tilted to the right, counting down the numbers on the cells as they slowly decrease their way to 37. 39, 39 and finally, 37.

But when I stop in my tracks to greet Nick, I find myself staring into an empty prison cell. Dusted. Cobwebbed and dirty, like no one ever lived here. "Nick?" I whisper, stepping into the cell and examining it's status. Then out of nowhere, I feel tight arms circling around my waist, pulling me back downwards and closer to its figure. Another figure steps into view, pulling its hands over my mouth and shutting them tight. My legs kick over me, pushing onto the figure in front of me but it only steps closer, embracing my entire body. It's chin pressed against my shoulder as it slowly nears my ear. And a deep, familiar voice whispers, "sleep."