THE COST OF SURVIVAL
Vivienne's POV
"Dear Selmara, give me strength." I said, ending my prayer.
My throat was raw, my lips cracked, but the silence in this was maddening. Praying gave me hope. It helped me remember I was still alive.
The heat made it hard to breathe, and move. My skin was so damp, dirt and sand from the floor clung to it.
Topped with the rotten air that never faded. Breathing it in burned my nose, but I'd gotten used to it.
Two days. That's how long I had been here.
Two days of eating scraps thrown like slop for animals. Two days of drinking still water that tasted like rust. My stomach had turned on itself, twisting in hunger, but I was past hunger now. It had become background noise—just another ache among many.
And yet… she had it worse.
The girl in my lap whimpered softly, her skin clammy and hot. She could be around my age or younger. Her wound had festered—red, inflamed, and pulsing with infection. The smell alone nearly made me gag, but I stayed close, gently pressing a damp cloth to her head. The water wasn't cold anymore just wet.
My hands trembled, whether from hunger or helplessness, I didn't know.
"Stay with me," I whispered, brushing damp hair away from her face. "Please."
Her breathing was thin, uneven. I'd seen it before—how a body shuts down, piece by piece and I had nothing. No medicine, no herbs, not even clean rags just whispered promises I couldn't keep.
Then—footsteps.
Slow. Heavy. Deliberate.
I stiffened.
The door at the far end creaked open, spilling dim torchlight into the gloom space. Without warning, rough hands grabbed me and yanked me to my feet.
"No—wait!" I struggled, panic rising, but I was too weak to fight them off.
The girl slumped sideways as I was pulled away. Her body curled inward, like it knew no help was coming.
"She needs a healer!" I shouted, struggling harder. "She'll die in here!"
The only response was a shove hard enough to jolt my shoulder. "Move."
I stumbled forward, biting down a cry. I looked back only once just long enough to see her still and small, barely breathing and then I was gone.
One moment, I was drowning in the dungeon's stench. The next, I was being shoved into a bathing chamber filled with steam and lavender.
It disoriented me.
The fresh air, the scented oils, the properly lit room—it all felt surreal. Mocking. The marble tub glistened, filled to the brim with hot water. For a second, I just stood there, stunned by the contrast.
Two women waited in silence. One was older, with kind eyes but a blank facial expression. The other was the younger maid from before. Both moved with mechanical efficiency.
They didn't ask. They just stepped forward and started undressing me.
I didn't fight. What was the point?
They scrubbed me down ruthlessly. My skin burned, but I let them wash the dungeon from my body. The dirt, the dried blood, the stink of rot. But they couldn't scrub away the dispair from my soul.
When it was over, they dressed me in a soft, cream-colored gown. Plain. Comfortable. Too clean.
It felt wrong because I knew what came next.
They led me to a terrace just as dawn began to bleed across the sky. Morning light poured over an elegant table set for a feast.
I stopped.
The table stretched long, heaped with platters of fresh fruits, golden pastries, roasted meats glistening with fat, Goblets of wine, crystal pitchers of milk and cream. Cheese, honey and decadent sweets.
And below us, women starved.
The girl in the dungeon. The others. She-wolves so dejected, they had forgotten their names.
You're looking much better, Vivienne," he mused, sipping from his cup. "Clean. Soft." His lips curled into a smirk. "Almost lovely."
I said nothing.
"Sit," he ordered.
He was already at the head of the table, lounging like a king. His robe was a deep forest green, loose around his frame. His brown eyes glittered as he watched me approach.
I sat, slow and stiff.
My fingers reached for a piece of bread but his voice stopped me cold.
"Not yet."
I froze, fingers hovering over the warm crust.
Balthazar smiled, slow and satisfied. "You must be starving."
I didn't respond.
He sliced into a thick cut of venison, juices bleeding onto his plate. "How many days, I wonder?" he mused. "Since you've had a real meal?"
I clenched my fists beneath the table.
He knew exactly how long. He had starved us on purpose.
"Eat," I said dryly. "Stuff yourself."
He chuckled. "Oh, I will. But you? That depends."
He leaned forward, eyes gleaming. "I need something from you first."
My voice was flat. "What?"
"You're clever, Vivienne. You should know." He set down his fork, his expression shifting into something darker. "Let me make it simple."
His gaze locked onto mine, unblinking. "You were born for something greater. Your blood… your form. Nature made you for more than the little life you led. A perfect wolf." he mused, tilting his head as if admiring a work of art. "Strong. Pure."
He paused, then smiled.
"You will give me an heir."
My stomach turned to stone.
"A true heir," he continued, voice serious like he was discussing business. "Born of your wolf form. Untouched by the weakness of human flesh. Do you understand what that means? The power it will posess? A beast of my making, but of your Lunari."
He exhaled, his pupils dilating, as if he were already envisioning it.
I said nothing. My throat closed.
"The others failed," he said, waving a hand. "Their bodies couldn't handle the shift. They came out twisted, wrong and pathetic."
He sighed as if disappointed with himself.
"But not you. You're perfect."
My heartbeat roared in my ears.
This wasn't just madness. It was obsession.
"You feel it, don't you?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly. "The instinct. The urge. It's in your blood."
No.
It wasn't.
But he couldn't know that because I couldn't shift. Not on command. Not yet.
So when he leaned forward and whispered, "Shift," it took everything in me not to flinch.
"What?" I said, feigning confusion.
He smiled. "You heard me. Shift and you can eat."
I stared at him.
Silence fell between us.
"I can wait," he said, slicing into another piece of meat. "But hunger, Vivienne… hunger makes the proud kneel."
I drew in a slow breath.
Then I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms. "No."
His eyes darkened. "You're defiant. I can't decide if I hate it or enjoy it."
I didn't blink. "I'll die before I let you or any man use me."
A beat passed.
Then he grinned.
His teeth were sharp. Too sharp.
"We'll see."
Because this wasn't about food.
It was about control.
One I couldn't afford to lose.
And the moment he realized I couldn't shift…
He would kill me.