She dropped the file onto the bed and walked cautiously toward the glass. The bird’s feathers were black silver—unlike anything she had ever seen. They caught the last rays of the dying sun and reflected them back like liquid mercury, shifting and flowing with every small movement the creature made.
What kind of bird is that? Is it dangerous?
Then she noticed the dark streaks along its legs. Blood. Fresh and dripping, beading along the slender limbs and falling in slow, heavy drops onto the stone ledge. The bird’s chest heaved with shallow, rapid breaths, and its dark eyes seemed to fix on her with something that looked almost like desperation.
Amelia slid the window open. The moment the gap was wide enough, the bird fluttered inside but with a clumsy, desperate urgency. It landed on the floor with a soft, heavy thud, its wings splaying awkwardly as it struggled to stay upright.
"Poor bird..."
Blood continued to bead and fall onto the floor, dark crimson against it. She wanted to help, but she had no way to call the maids. She wasn’t allowed to leave the room, and even if she could, she doubted they would care. They would probably toss the creature outside to bleed out alone.
Just another piece of collateral damage in a world that runs on blood.
She hurried into the walk-in closet, her eyes scanning the shelves until she spotted a soft cotton cloth folded neatly among the linens. She pulled it down, returned to the bird, and knelt beside it.
Carefully, she placed the fabric beside the creature and fluffed it into a small nest— something that might offer a sliver of comfort.
"Don’t peck me," she whispered, reaching out with trembling fingers. "I’m trying to help you. Please don’t make me regret this."
The bird remained still, its dark eyes tracking her movements but offering no resistance. She lifted it gently, cradling its fragile body in her palms, and settled it onto the cloth. Its weight was almost nothing—feathers and bone and a heartbeat so fast it felt like a hummingbird’s.
Amelia sat back on her heels, uncertain.
I need first aid. I need bandages, antiseptic, something to stop the bleeding. A room this size has to have something. They wouldn’t put me in a room without basic supplies.
She went into the bathroom, dragged a stool beneath the high cabinet, and climbed up. When she opened the door, relief flooded through her. A full first-aid kit sat neatly inside—bandages, gauze, antiseptic, ointment, everything she could possibly need. She carried it down and returned to the bird, her hands steady despite the adrenaline coursing through her veins.
Kneeling again, she opened the kit and began. First she poured clean water over a piece of gauze and carefully wiped the blood from both legs, revealing the damage beneath—several deep scrapes and one longer gash that looked like it had been caused by something sharp. A claw, maybe. Or a blade.
What kind of creature would do this to a bird? And why?
The bird stayed perfectly still as she worked, its dark eyes never leaving her face. She soaked a fresh pad with antiseptic and pressed it lightly against the wounds, holding it until the bleeding slowed. Then she applied a thin layer of healing ointment with the tip of a clean finger, her touch as gentle as she could manage. Finally, she wrapped soft bandage strips around each leg, securing them firmly but not too tightly—loose enough that the bird could still move, tight enough that the wounds would stay protected.
When she finished, she sat back and looked at the small silver creature.
"What happened to you?" She studied its feathers. "Of course you can’t talk. That would be too strange, even for this place."
She adjusted the cloth around it, making sure it was comfortable. "It’ll take a while for those legs to heal. You can stay here as long as you want. I don’t have much to offer, but I have this room, but so little time"
Her eyes scanned the room, searching for possibilities.
Where could I possibly hide a bird? The maids might come in and they might—
The thought felt almost ridiculous. Exhaustion settled over her like a heavy blanket, pressing down on her shoulders. She lowered herself fully onto the floor, her back against the bed, and simply stared at the creature. The bird stared back, its head tilted, its dark eyes unblinking.
"It’s funny," she murmured, her voice soft and distant. "I’m helping a helpless bird while I’m stuck in a helpless situation of my own. Can you imagine the kind of mess I’m in?"
The bird only used its beak to preen a silver feather.
"They gave me two conditions," she continued softly, as if the bird might somehow understand. "Act like a loving wife... and that role won’t end until I find some invaluable information about the Underworld Territory. Information I don’t even know. Information I’ve never even heard of." She let out a hollow laugh. "They think I know something. I’m just a girl who loved the wrong man and paid the price."
The memory of Reid confronting her about it rose unbidden. A small shudder ran through her.
Why did they believe I knew anything about that place? What did I do to make them think I was involved?
She thought harder. They knew about her involvement in the Blacksmith Territory businesses. Those were memories she never wanted to revisit. They are not the darkest days of her relationship with Dylan, the moments when she’d looked the other way and told herself it was love.
But it meant Dylan had been dealing with those people in secret. Without my knowledge. He used my skills and he never told me what it was really for.
Her stomach turned.
How many things did he hide from me? How many lies did he tell? How long did he make me look like a fool while he was building his empire behind my back?
Pain tugged sharply at her heart, a familiar ache that never quite went away. She shook her head, trying to dislodge the thoughts.
"I don’t want to dwell on it. I don’t want to think about him anymore. He’s not worth it. He’s never been worth it."
Her voice dropped lower. "I don’t think I’m confident in myself anymore. All this time it was the love I had for Dylan that kept me going. It was the only thing that made sense. Even when things were hard, even when he was distant, I told myself it was worth it because I loved him. And now I know it was nothing but crap. A lie. A beautiful, elaborate lie that I fell for because I wanted to believe in something."
Tears welled up. She wiped them away with the back of her hand, angry at herself for still crying over a man who had never deserved her tears.
"Dylan doesn’t deserve my tears." Her jaw tightened, her teeth grinding together. "He doesn’t deserve a single drop of my pain. He gave up any right to my heart the moment he chose her. And Jade... my so-called best friend. The woman who smiled in my face and then stabbed me in the back. They were both so cruel. So utterly without remorse."
Something small and hot sparked deep in her chest—an ember of something she had never felt before.
I’ll make them pay.
I don’t know how. I don’t know when. But I will. They took everything from me—my love, my trust, my future. They left me here, trapped in a nightmare I didn’t choose. And they walked away without a backward glance.
Her hands clenched into fists in her lap.
"I will accept the conditions. And i will make sure Dylan pays the price."