Ex-Alpha's Regret: Siren's Comeback novel Chapter 69

POV: Seraphina

The night of the banquet was a symphony of contrasts. From my cold, silent room, I could hear the distant echoes of celebration. The faint, lilting strains of a string quartet, the murmur of voices, the occasional burst of laughter. It all felt like a broadcast from another world, a world of warmth and light and life that I no longer inhabited.

But there was no bitterness. No longing. The sounds of my enemy's celebration were nothing more than the ticking of a clock, marking the final moments of my captivity. My heart was a still, calm lake. My wolf was a coiled spring, silent and patient, every ounce of her power focused on the single task that lay ahead. This was Zero Hour.

The lock on my door clicked softly. Elara slipped inside, her face pale but her eyes shining with a fierce, determined light. She carried a bundle of coarse, gray cloth. A servant's uniform.

"They are all in the great hall," she whispered, her voice a tense, hurried breath. "Even the guards are distracted. The wine is flowing freely." She laid the uniform on the bed. "The patrol in the west service corridor. They change shifts in ten minutes. The new guards are always late. It will give you a window of maybe ninety seconds."

I nodded, my movements economical as I stripped off the silk sleeping gown—the uniform of a pampered prisoner—and pulled on the scratchy wool of the servant's dress. It was a costume of invisibility, a passport to the shadows.

The changing of the guard.

Elara looked at me, her eyes wide. I gave her a single, sharp nod. The moment was here.

She reached for the iron handle of the door.