The night was silent, save for the distant howls of wolves. You sat in the damp darkness of a Grounder prison cell, your hands bound behind your back. Your face was streaked with dried blood, and your body ached from the beating you’d endured during your capture.

You replayed the attack in your mind—Grounders, not from Lexa’s clan, but clearly operating with their own agenda, ambushing you on the way to Polis. The betrayal burned in your chest. Someone had tipped you off, and you suspected it wasn’t just a rogue faction.

The heavy wooden door creaked open, and you flinched as light flooded the room. Two warriors entered, dragging someone behind them. Lexa.

Her hair was disheveled, her face unreadable. The guards shoved her forward, and she fell to her knees.

Lexa slowly lifted her head, meeting your gaze.

“You knew,”

You hissed, your voice trembling with anger.

Lexa’s jaw tightened.

“I didn’t know they would take you.”

Lexa’s voice rose for once, cutting through the tension.

“I’m here, am I not? I came to negotiate your release.”

“Negotiate?”

You laughed bitterly.

“What are you offering them? More of your people? Or me?”

“They don’t want more land or resources,”

Lexa said quietly.

“They want blood. My blood.”

You froze, your anger momentarily replaced by confusion.

“What are you talking about?”

“This faction believes I’ve betrayed the spirit of the Commanders by allying with you,”

Lexa explained.

“They demand my life in exchange for your freedom.”

Your breath caught.

“No. No, that’s not an option.”

“It’s already done,”

Lexa said firmly.

“I’ve agreed to surrender myself.”

Before you could protest further, the door burst open. The faction leader entered with a grim expression.

“Time’s up, Heda.”

Lexa rose to her feet, her movements slow but deliberate. She turned to you one last time.

“May we meet again.”

“No!”

You screamed, thrashing against your restraints as the guards dragged Lexa away.