CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Prince Derek – POV
The skittering of the rat around the cell and the rhythmic dripping of water kept me up almost every night.
I wasn't used to this kind of treatment. My early mornings were usually filled with maids skittering around, helping me get dressed while they whisked in breakfast.
Waking up every day in this moldy cell greased with wolfsbane around the metal bars—was weakening my senses and making me angry.
The bed alone wasn't fit to carry my whole body causing discomfort all through the night. I couldn't even tell what day it was.
Once again the morning sun rays spilled through the tiny window of my cell. Irritated, I jumped out of bed and washed my face with the water from the bowl placed on the bathroom sink.
Large dark circles cornered my eyes. I looked like a former image of myself the feared prince reduced to a lowly outcast.
Werewolves feared me. Servants scampered for safety. Packs trembled.
