Transmigrated: The Lycan King's Pet
Chapter 63 Visits and Plans (Bonus)

Chapter 63: Chapter 63 Visits and Plans (Bonus)

The sound of footsteps broke through my thoughts. They were slower and hesitant.

I sat up from the mattress, wiping my face with the sleeve of my dress. My muscles ached, but I forced myself to sit straight. If anyone came to mock me, they wouldn’t get the satisfaction of seeing me broken.

Two guards approached the bars—the same ones from earlier. But something about their posture had changed; they looked less rigid and more uncertain. One of them, the younger one with a scar under his right eye, avoided meeting my gaze.

They didn’t speak right away. Instead, the older one slid a tray through the narrow slit beneath the bars. Steam rose from a bowl of warm broth and a hunk of bread beside it.

My stomach grumbled. I hadn’t even realized how hungry I was.

But my eyes stayed locked on the tray of food before locking with them. "You’re feeding me now?" I asked quietly, suspicion lacing my voice.

The older one shrugged. "Orders."

"From who?" I pressed, standing slowly and limping toward the tray.

The younger one spoke up, his voice low. "Two visitors are here to see you. They brought the food too."

I blinked. "Visitors?"

’Who could that be?’

The door creaked open again, and in came two familiar faces—Caroline and Lydia.

Their scent hit me first. Tears welled in my eyes.

Lydia rushed towards me, her fingers tightening around the rods. "Ember, are you okay?!"

"You’ve got less than five minutes," the younger guard said.

I stood quickly, swaying a little from how sore my knees still felt. The moment the door creaked open, they both rushed inside.

"Ember!" Lydia cried, eyes watering. "Gods, look at you—what did they do?"

"I’m fine," I said softly, even though I wasn’t. I could see it in their eyes that they didn’t believe me.

Caroline dropped to her knees in front of me. "We tried to talk to Alpha Damon. He didn’t even give us a glance."

"He won’t, especially not when it comes to that locket," I muttered bitterly.

"Is it really that important to him?" Lydia asked, lowering her voice.

I nodded. "It is... and I don’t even know why."

Their eyes darted toward the guards, then back at me.

I took a shaky breath, then spoke carefully. "But I think someone’s playing a very dangerous game here. And they’re trying to make it look like I’m the thief."

Caroline blinked. "Who would...?"

My lips pressed into a tight line. "Someone who can move freely about... someone who wants me gone. And someone who knows exactly how much that locket meant to him."

Realization started to dawn in Lydia’s eyes.

Caroline gasped faintly. "You don’t mean..."

"I’m not pointing fingers," I said carefully, "but let’s just say... I wouldn’t be surprised if someone has decided I was too much of a threat."

I glanced at the guards as I said the next part—loud enough for them to hear.

"Someone with a high rank, who wouldn’t hesitate to invite outsiders into the pack territory... if it meant protecting her position."

One of the guards frowned at my words.

"Why don’t you ask yourself why the locket was so important to Damon... and why someone would want to use it against me."

Lydia leaned in. "You don’t have to talk too much. We’ll look into it, and we’ll find out what Alpha Allison is hiding."

"Just be careful," I warned. "She’s not stupid."

"We’re not either," Caroline whispered.

They hugged me tightly before slipping out. The guards locked the cell behind them without a word. But I noticed something different in their expressions now.

I took a bite from the bread. ’Oh, how much I had missed the taste of food!’

.....

Later that day, the dungeon gate creaked open again.

I just sat with my arms folded around my knees, breathing. My muscles tensed as the approaching sound of footsteps came closer.

The air shifted in a way I recognized—the light perfume, and powerful footsteps that didn’t belong in a place like this.

’Allison.’

She stepped inside like she owned the place. Her black hair cascaded down her back. "Ember," she said softly, clasping her hands in front of me like a grieving widow. "I came to check on you."

I said nothing.

She took a few slow steps forward, stopping just short of the bars. "I tried speaking with Alpha Damon... to convince him to release you. I told him it must have been a mistake. That maybe you were just a silly girl who wandered into the wrong place at the wrong time."

I finally met her gaze. "Hmmm... And what did he say?"

She tilted her head, eyes filled with false regret. "He didn’t listen, not even a word. Alpha Damon is very strict."

I forced myself to keep a straight face. "So now what?"

She sighed as if burdened by a weight that had nothing to do with her. "Now... we wait. The Alpha will decide what must be done." Her tone softened again. "After all, he knows best. We wouldn’t want to challenge his authority, would we?"

Her words dripped with performative empathy, but her eyes told the truth. She was enjoying this—savoring it, even. This wasn’t a visit of concern. It was a victory lap.

"You mean punishment," I said flatly.

A small, graceful shrug. "If that’s what it takes to restore order. The pack is watching, Ember. If he spares you... he might look weak. And we can’t have that."

I sighed. "Alpha Allison, I never knew you would stoop this low. I have heard of your powers and your fighting skills, but what with the withering flower behaviour? It doesn’t suit you, I must say."

A growl rumbled from her chest. "Don’t you dare speak to me in that manner."

I flashed a grin at her. "That’s more like it. Now the real you is back. So can you spare me the drama and tell me why you are here?" I paused. "And why had you framed me?"

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