The walls of the dungeon were damp again.
Colder this time — like they'd soaked up all the warmth Sienna had fought to earn.
She sat in silence, arms wrapped around her knees. No tears. No panic.
Just silence.
Outside her cell, the guards whispered, their voices laced with fear and doubt.
"She tricked him, I swear—"
"No one survives that much wolfsbane—"
"What if it wasn't her?"
Daemon stood in the hallway, listening to every word… but hearing none of it.
His thoughts were with the way Sienna had looked at him before she walked into the cell — not angry, not begging — just done.
She hadn't fought to prove her innocence.
She had fought to prove she was worth believing in.
And he hadn't believed her.
Later that evening, Daemon stood before Sage in the healer's hut.
"There was no wolfsbane in her bloodstream," Sage said softly.
Daemon's jaw clenched. "What?"
"She didn't touch it. She didn't poison your food. Someone wanted you to think she did."
Sage stepped closer, lowering her voice.
"I checked the tray. The scent came from the outside of the vial, not inside it."
Daemon's heart began to pound. "It was planted."
"Yes. And whoever did it… knew exactly how much it would take to turn you against her."
He returned to the cell.
She didn't look at him.
"I came to apologize," he said.
"For believing the worst of me?" she asked, voice calm but distant. "Or for locking me up twice?"
"I was wrong," he said. "You were right about Victor. I see it now."
Sienna turned to him at last, her eyes tired but bright.
"And now you want me to forgive you and go back to playing Luna?" she asked.
Daemon flinched.
"No," he said. "I want you to do what's best for you."
"I did," she said. "I trusted you."
She stepped closer to the bars.
"Tell me, Alpha," she whispered. "Do you still think I'm cursed?"
Daemon swallowed hard.
"No," he said. "But I think I am."