?Chapter 1064:


    As we crossed the prison’s threshold, a gloomy, damp atmosphere enveloped us. The walls bore dark streaks of moisture, and the rough, uneven stones beneath my feet felt like shards of a shattered past.


    My chest tightened with unease, my pulse quickening. A quick nce to my side revealed the three princes mirroring my tension, their faces stern and their gazes sharp with vignce. I opened my mouth to urge them to stay wary, but before the words could escape, a ze of torchlight erupted around us, piercing the shadows with harsh brilliance.


    I flinched, shielding my eyes to adjust to the brightness, and then saw a swarm of guards materialize from the darkness, their gleaming weapons drawn, forming a tight ring around us.


    At their forefront stood a towering figure, his broad frame and steely gaze radiating amanding aura akin to Rowell’s.


    Amon’s expression shifted to one of pure shock as he blurted out, “What’s Carl Mitchell doing here?”


    I stared, dumbfounded, my mind struggling to process the sight.


    Amon quickly exined, “Carl is Rowell’s older brother—a master tactician, revered among the werewolves for his cunning and strength. I never imagined he’d be lying in wait for us like this…”


    Carl advanced with a slow, deliberate stride, a cold smirk curling his lips. “Rowell didn’t reach out to me today, and that silence tipped me off. I’ve had this trap ready for some time, just waiting for you to stumble into it so I could snare you all at once.”


    He paused, his piercing eyes raking over us one by one before he added, “Rowell and I check in every three hours to confirm all is well. When that connection breaks, it’s a signal something’s gone awry. You walked in blind, didn’t you?”


    Dominic’s features hardened, his voice cutting through the air like a de. “You and your brother are a pair of sly foxes.”


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    Carl’s grin widened, dripping with mockery. “Save your usations for the king, Prince Dominic. We’ve already dispatched a message to him. Your treachery will beid bare soon enough, and I’m eager to hear how you’ll justify it then.”


    Bryan’s gaze ignited with resolve, his jaw clenching as he snarled, “Enough talk—attack!”


    Before the echo of hismand faded, he lunged forward, sword in hand, his soldiers surging behind him. The sh exploded in an instant, steel glinting in the prison’s faint light as the battle unfolded. The three princes threw themselves into the fray, their fierce strikes aimed at cutting a path through the chaos, guiding me deeper into the prison’s heart.


    But Carl had anticipated this. His guards moved with disciplined precision, their ranks unshaken by our assault. As fatigue seeped into our limbs, our momentum faltered, and the odds tilted dangerously against us.


    My fingers tightened around the dagger, my mind racing for a solution amid the pounding of my heart. Then, my eyes caught a faint glimmer of hope—a narrow vent high on the prison wall, seemingly the only unguarded route inside.


    A n flickered to life, and I murmured to yton at my side, “Keep Carl upied. I’ll search for the white wolves. That vent might be our way through.”


    Makenna’s POV:


    yton paused, caught off guard by my sudden proposal amidst such a crucial juncture. But he quickly collected himself, gave a solemn nod, and murmured, “Stay safe, protect yourself.”


    “I will,” I responded tersely.


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