Buried in shame. Rising in power

CHAPTER SEVEN — The Cage They Call the Observation Wing

Mia’s footsteps echoed sharply as two Dominion guards escorted her down a narrow corridor lit only by strips of pale white light. Every door they passed had no windows—only reinforced alloy plating and a glowing touchpad beside each.

It wasn’t a hallway.

It was a prison.

They stopped at a polished steel door marked “Observation Wing – Unit 6.”

The guard on the right scanned his palm. The door opened with a hydraulic hiss.

“Inside,” he said.

Mia hesitated. “I want to see Ethan.”

The guards didn’t even look at her.

“That is not permitted,” the left one replied mechanically.

A cold spike pierced her stomach. She stepped inside anyway. The door sealed shut behind her, locking with multiple heavy clasps.

Mia turned slowly.

The room was spotless. Too spotless.

A bed. A desk. A chair. A bathroom behind frosted glass. No personal items. No comfort. No warmth.

A bright camera blinked in the corner.

They were watching her.

The oppressive silence pressed against her chest until she couldn’t breathe. She rushed to the door and pounded her fists.

“Ethan! Ethan!”

Her cries were swallowed by the steel.

No answer. No footsteps. Nothing but the faint hum of surveillance monitors hidden somewhere behind the walls.

She slid down the door, covering her face as panic clawed at her lungs.

Ethan… where are you?

A soft click made her jump.

A tray slid through a narrow metal slot near the floor—food, water, and a folded piece of clothing.

Prison routine.

Mia stared at the tray without touching it.

She wasn’t hungry. She wasn’t thirsty.

She was terrified.

After several minutes, she stood shakily and approached the camera.

“I’m not stupid,” she said. “I know you’re watching me. Let me see my husband.”

Silence.

“Please.”

Still nothing.

But then—like a whisper—the intercom crackled to life.

A woman’s voice, soft and eerily calm, spoke:

“Mrs. Cole, the Patriarch has ordered you kept under protection. For your safety—and the prince’s—contact is limited.”

Prince.

Mia’s heart twisted painfully. Ethan didn’t belong to her here. They didn’t even call him by his name.

She took a shaky breath. “Is he okay?”

A pause.

“He is alive.”

That wasn’t reassurance. That was a threat wrapped in civility.

Mia backed away from the camera. “What happens now?”

“Rest,” the voice said. “Observation begins at dawn.”

The intercom clicked off.

Observation.

The word tasted like poison.

Mia moved to the bed, but sleep refused to come. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Ethan falling to his knees in the Blood Chamber, screaming as the ancient symbols lit his skin.

Hours passed.

Her mind raced endlessly:

What if they were hurting him? What if the Patriarch already knew Ethan would do anything to protect her—and planned to use it? What if Ethan never walked back through that door?

A sharp, metallic buzz snapped her out of her spiraling thoughts.

The wall panel slid open—revealing a woman no older than thirty. She wore a pale grey uniform and held a tablet under one arm. Her dark eyes flicked over Mia, assessing, calculating.

“Mrs. Cole,” she said with a curt nod. “I am Dr. Hale. Assigned to your evaluation.”

“Evaluation?” Mia repeated.

Dr. Hale walked inside without waiting to be invited.

“Your physical and psychological condition must be monitored. Your well-being affects the prince’s cooperation.”

Mia felt sick. “So I’m leverage.”

“A valuable asset,” Dr. Hale corrected gently. “Please sit.”

Mia didn’t move.

“What are they doing to Ethan?”

Dr. Hale’s expression didn’t change. “The Patriarch is testing the limits of his bloodline reactivation. His power awakened too quickly. That makes him… volatile.”

Mia’s chest tightened. “He’s hurt, isn’t he?”

“I am not authorized to comment on the prince’s condition.”

Mia’s hands balled into fists. “Then I’m not doing any evaluation.”

Dr. Hale sighed as though expecting this.

“You misunderstand. Refusal is not an option.”

Two guards stepped into the doorway silently.

Mia tensed. Dr. Hale raised a hand to stop them.

“It’s alright,” she said. “Mrs. Cole is simply afraid.”

She turned back to Mia, voice softer.

“I will tell you one thing, off-record.” She leaned in. “Everything that happens here… is designed to break or remake a person. Your husband is resisting. That is dangerous.”

Mia’s breath caught. “Dangerous for who?”

“For him. And for you.”

Before Mia could respond, the intercom suddenly buzzed—louder this time, urgent.

“Dr. Hale,” a voice crackled. “Code Red in the Lower Training Hall. The prince has—escaped containment.”

Mia’s blood froze.

Dr. Hale stiffened. “What? That’s impossible. He could barely stand—”

The radio cut her off with frantic shouting:

“He’s overpowering the trainers—he broke the inhibitor—GET BACK—!”

A crash exploded through the intercom, followed by static.

Dr. Hale’s eyes widened. The guards hurriedly sealed the door.

Mia’s heart pounded so violently she thought it might burst.

Ethan… what did they do to you?

The lights flickered.

Then the floor vibrated—

A distant explosion thundered through the complex.

Mia staggered back, eyes wide, pulse racing.

Somewhere in this underground fortress…

Ethan had stopped obeying.

And the Dominion was no longer in control.

Ethan has escaped Dominion containment, violently overwhelming his handlers. Mia is trapped in the Observation Wing as the entire facility goes into lockdown—and Ethan is no longer stable.