A smirk played at Victor's lips as he crouched beside her, his fingers brushing against her tangled hair with mock tenderness.
"You know," he murmured, voice thick with false regret, "this could have been avoided if you'd just learned your place and submit" He chuckled, tilting his head as if in thought.
"Well… maybe not avoided entirely," he admitted. "This was always going to happen. But if you'd been a little more obedient, at least I would've been gentler. You wouldn't be in so much pain now."
He expected a reaction—a glare, a sob, even a flinch—but she gave him nothing. Her expression did not change. Her dull, empty eyes remained locked on some distant point beyond him. Victor frowned, dissatisfied.
"No words? No more of that sharp tongue of yours?" He grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him, but her vacant gaze passed through him as if he were nothing more than a ghost. That enraged him more than any insult she could have thrown at him.
With a low growl of frustration, he straightened his coat. "Fine," he bit out. "Stay silent all you want." His lips curled into a sneer. "But I'll be back tomorrow. And I expect a different attitude." His gaze flickered to the side, landing on Estella. She was still bound in chains, her wrists raw from struggling and tears streak down her face.The hatred in her eyes was unmistakable, but Victor only smirked before his expression darkened.
He took one step closer, casting her a sharp, lingering glare. A silent warning. Then, without another word, he spun on his heel and stormed out, the heavy door creaking before slamming shut behind him. For a few moments, silence hung thick in the air.
Estella barely noticed the tears still welling in her eyes as she turned her head toward her mother. Even now, after Victor had left, she didn't move. She just sat there, staring into nothingness.
"Mom," Estella whispered, her voice shaky. "Mom, it's me… Please, look at me." Nothing. She swallowed, tugging weakly at her restraints as if she could somehow reach her mother, shake her out of this trance. "Please," she begged, her voice breaking. "Say something… anything." Still, there was no response. No flicker of recognition. No warmth.
The dim morning light barely seeped through the cracks in the walls. Victor had not come. Instead, one of the demon wolves entered, dropping a plate of food on the floor before leaving without a word. The only sounds in the room were the faint clatter of the plate and Estella's desperate voice.
"Mother, please eat something," she pleaded, her wrists raw from the chains that bound her to the pillar. She stretched as far as she could, but the cold metal held her back. "Just a little. You need your strength."
Her mother sat still, her eyes fixed on the untouched food. Time passed, the silence between them thickening like an unspoken sorrow. Then, slowly, tears began to streak down her mother's face.
"I'm sorry, Estella," her voice trembled, each word heavy with pain.
"No, Mother, don't say that," Estella's own eyes burned with unshed tears. "None of this is your fault."
But her mother only shook her head, gripping her trembling hands in her lap. "I can't do this. I can't live like this anymore. I—" Her voice broke. "I feel dirty. I can't bear it. And you... you had to watch it all."
Estella's breath hitched, a cold dread creeping into her bones. She knew exactly where this was going.
"Mother, no! Please, don't do anything—just hold on! We'll find a way out of this, I swear!" She struggled against the chains, but they didn't budge.
Her mother lifted her tear-streaked face, her expression one of heartbreaking resolve. "I'm sorry, my love," she whispered. "Take care of yourself."
And before Estella could scream, before she could reach her, her mother snatched the fork from the food tray and, in one swift motion, drove it into her own throat.
A wet gurgle escaped her lips as blood poured down her chest.
"No! Mother!" Estella's scream tore through the room, raw and agonized. "Mom, mom, mom!"
But there was no response.
The commotion alerted the demon wolves outside. Heavy footsteps thundered into the room as they took in the gruesome sight. One of them, his expression unreadable, turned and hurried off.
Minutes later, Victor arrived. His golden eyes, dark with rage, scanned the scene before locking onto the lifeless body.
He clenched his fists. "So this is how much you despised me?" His voice was a snarl, filled with fury. "To escape me, you'd even kill yourself?" His chest heaved as his anger pulsed through the room. "Is being with me so unbearable?"
Then, as if something inside him broke, his rage melted into eerie calm. He turned to the corpse, staring at it with an unsettling stillness.
"You think death will save you from me?" He crouched beside her, brushing the blood-matted hair from her pale face. "Fine."
Then, slowly, he looked at Estella.
"I promise you," he murmured to the lifeless woman, "your daughter will suffer for this. I'll make sure of it."
The heavy wooden door creaked open, and Morak stepped into the room, his towering figure casting a long shadow over the bloodstained floor. His piercing crimson eyes swept across the room, locking onto the lifeless body sprawled across the stone. The stench of death clung to the air, thick and suffocating. His expression darkened, a slow, simmering rage rising within him.
Victor stood nearby, his arms crossed, his face unreadable. He barely flinched as Morak advanced, boots thudding against the cold ground.
Morak stopped beside the corpse, crouching down briefly. He exhaled through his nose, then straightened, his gaze sharp as a blade when it met Victor's.
"How the hell did you manage to push our hostage into suicide within a day?" Morak's voice was low, controlled, but there was no mistaking the dangerous edge behind it.
"You were the one who insisted we keep her alive—to serve as a deterrent to the other wolves." He jabbed a clawed finger at the corpse. "And now she's dead. Tell me, Victor, what kind of message does this send?" Victor didn't answer. His silence was infuriating.
Morak stepped closer, lowering his voice. "You expect me to trust you with the remaining hostage after this mess?"
Victor clenched his fists, but he didn't protest. He knew better than to argue when Morak's patience was already razor-thin.
Morak turned his head sharply. "Take the girl to the dungeon," he ordered, his voice echoing through the chamber.
The demon wolves immediately moved, seizing Estella by the arms. She struggled, but their grip was like iron.