The clearing was silent as Regina stepped forward, her crimson eyes sweeping over the pack. The wolves stood in a loose formation, their bodies tense, their gazes darting between her and Graham. The air was thick with unease, and not a single wolf dared to speak. Graham remained at the center, his shoulders heavy with the weight of their disappointment.

Graham cleared his throat, the sound breaking the suffocating quiet. His voice, though steady, carried a note of guilt that was impossible to miss. "I owe you all the truth," he began, meeting their eyes one by one. "I failed you."

No one interrupted him. The pack's silence was not one of acceptance, but one of quiet disillusionment. The tension in the air was palpable, as though they were waiting for the final confirmation of what they already suspected.

"I let my fear get the better of me," Graham continued, his tone firm despite the vulnerability in his words. "The Keepers came to me, demanding loyalty. They promised protection for all of you—for our pack—if I agreed to follow their orders. I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought I was keeping you safe." His voice faltered slightly, but he pushed on. "Instead, I endangered you all."

One of the wolves shifted uncomfortably, but no one stepped forward. No one spoke. Graham exhaled, his gaze falling to the ground for a moment before he straightened and looked at them again.

"I've made mistakes," Graham began, his voice steady but carrying the weight of regret. "Mistakes that have put this pack in danger. I see that now, and I take responsibility for it. My decisions haven't always been right, but my loyalty to this pack has never wavered."

He paused, meeting the eyes of each wolf. "I know I've let you down. That's on me. But this isn't about me anymore. It's about what's best for the pack." His gaze flickered to Regina. "And right now, that's her."

Still, no one moved. The pack's hesitation spoke volumes, their mistrust clear in their wary stances and averted gazes. The weight of Graham's admission settled over them like a heavy fog.

Regina stepped forward, her presence commanding immediate attention. The wolves instinctively straightened, their eyes locking onto her as she moved to stand beside Graham. Her expression was sharp, her crimson eyes glowing faintly with authority and resolve.

"You've all been betrayed," she said, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "I understand your hesitation. But this is where it ends. From this moment on, you answer to me."

The wolves exchanged glances, their unease palpable. Regina didn't flinch, her gaze sweeping over them with unrelenting intensity.

"I'm not here to ask for your trust," she continued, her tone firm. "Trust is earned, and I will earn it. But know this: if any of you defy me or endanger my pack again, there will be consequences."

The wolves froze, their breaths shallow as they processed her words. Slowly, one by one, they began to lower their heads, submitting to her authority. It wasn't immediate, and it wasn't unanimous at first, but the sheer force of Regina's presence left no room for defiance. Even Graham lowered his head, his silent acknowledgment of her leadership an act of surrender.

Regina let the silence linger, her gaze piercing each wolf as she made sure they understood the gravity of her words. When she finally spoke again, her voice was quieter but no less resolute.

"This pack deserves strength," she said. "You've been let down, but I won't let it happen again. Together, we will face whatever comes next."

With that, she turned her attention to Graham, her expression unreadable. "You still have a role to play," she said evenly. "But don't mistake this for forgiveness."

Graham nodded, his voice barely above a whisper. "Understood."

Regina took a steadying breath, scanning the wolves before her. Graham's pack shifted uneasily, exchanging glances of uncertainty. Their postures were tense, their loyalty fractured and hanging by a thread. She could feel their hesitation like a pulse in the air, each beat testing her patience. Regina's sharp gaze fell on Graham, who stood a few steps behind her, his shoulders slumped under the weight of his failures.

"You're waiting," Regina said, her voice slicing through the silence. "Waiting for someone to make the decision for you. Let me make it clear—there is no decision. You follow me. Or you're done."

A murmur rippled through the pack, some wolves lowering their heads in submission while others stiffened with defiance. Regina's irritation flared. She stepped forward, her human form giving way to the massive black wolf within her. Her fur shimmered like ink under the faint light filtering through the trees, her crimson eyes burning with raw power.

Her transformation was immediate and commanding. She threw back her head and let out a deafening roar that seemed to shake the earth itself. The pack flinched, some recoiling instinctively. Graham took a cautious step back, his expression conflicted.

"You will follow me," she growled, her voice resonating through the clearing, low and guttural. "You will answer to me. Or you will face me."

The sheer dominance in her tone left no room for doubt. Slowly, one by one, the wolves lowered their heads in submission, their tails tucking between their legs. Even those who had hesitated before now yielded to her authority, their loyalty shifting to the Alpha Queen.

Regina shifted back to her human form with fluid grace, her expression hard as she addressed the pack. "Ruby will lead you to my territory. You'll receive instructions there. This hesitation ends now."

Ruby appeared then, racing toward the clearing in her wolf form, her sleek figure weaving through the trees with practiced ease. Regina wasn't surprised. She had known Ruby would disobey her orders to stay behind, her stubbornness as much a flaw as it was an asset. Ruby shifted mid-step, her human form emerging with wild hair and flushed cheeks.

"I knew you'd be here," Ruby said breathlessly, her tone a mix of frustration and relief. "You should've let me come with you from the start."

Regina allowed herself a faint smile. "And you should've listened."

Ruby's gaze darted to Graham and his pack, her sharp eyes narrowing. "What happened?"

Regina's voice turned cold again. "Graham made a deal with the Keepers. They wanted his loyalty in exchange for protection, and he agreed to spy on me. Now his pack answers to me."

Ruby's jaw tightened, her frustration clear. "Did he tell them anything about us?"

"Not yet," Regina said, her tone clipped. "But we need to know exactly what he told them and how far this goes. We're already at risk because of his cowardice."

Ruby glanced at Graham, who stood apart from his pack, his expression a mixture of guilt and defiance. "And what about him?"

"He's coming with you," Regina said sharply, her gaze fixed on Graham. "Take him to the forest clearing behind my house. He'll wait there until I'm ready to deal with him."

Ruby nodded, her sharp eyes flicking back to the pack. "What about them?"

"They'll go with you," Regina said. "Start asking questions. I want to know everything they've seen, heard, and tracked in the last week."

The wolves shifted uneasily, their eyes flicking between Regina and Ruby. One young wolf, a beta with sandy-colored fur, stepped forward hesitantly. "We saw movement in the northwestern part of the forest," he said, his voice low. "Tracks leading deeper into the trees, but they disappeared near the cliffs. That's when we lost Mason's trail."

Regina's expression hardened. "You should've reported that immediately."

The beta lowered his gaze, shame coloring his features. "We thought it wasn't important."

"Everything is important," Regina snapped, her voice carrying a sharp edge. "From now on, you report everything to Ruby or me. Is that clear?"

The wolf nodded quickly, retreating back into the group.

"Ruby," Regina said, her tone brooking no argument. "Get them moving."

Ruby nodded, her expression grim. "Got it."

As Ruby began organizing the pack, Regina felt the familiar pull of guilt tugging at her chest. She glanced at the darkening sky and realized with a jolt that she was late to pick up Henry. The guilt deepened, morphing into frustration with herself.

"Go," she said to Ruby, her voice quieter now. "I'll meet you back at the house later."

Ruby shot her a concerned glance but nodded. "Be careful."

As Regina made her way out of Graham's territory, the weight of the day pressed heavily on her shoulders. Her thoughts swirled with anger and frustration—at Graham, at the Keepers, at herself. She had let the chaos of the situation pull her away from her responsibilities to Henry, and the thought of him waiting for her, disappointed, made her stomach churn.

By the time she reached Storybrooke Elementary, the sun was low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the parking lot. Henry stood by the school's entrance, his backpack slung over one shoulder, his expression unreadable. The sight of him standing there alone tightened something in Regina's chest.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," she said as she approached, her voice softer than usual. "I got caught up at work."

Henry looked up at her, his eyes searching her face. "It's okay," he said after a moment, though his tone carried a hint of disappointment. "I figured you were busy."

Regina knelt down to his level, placing a hand gently on his shoulder. "I'll make it up to you. How about pizza tonight? Your favorite."

Henry's expression softened slightly, though the hurt lingered in his eyes. "Okay."

As they walked home together, Regina couldn't shake the feeling that her worlds were colliding—the responsibilities of an alpha, a mayor, and a mother, all pulling her in different directions. But as she glanced at Henry, she resolved that no matter what, she wouldn't let him feel forgotten. Not again.

The evening air was warm, the soft hum of crickets drifting through the open windows of Regina's mansion. In the kitchen, the enticing smell of pizza filled the space as Regina and Henry sat at the dining table. The tension of the day seemed to melt away in the glow of the warm light, replaced by laughter and the easy comfort of mother and son.

"You're seriously telling me pineapple doesn't belong on pizza?" Henry asked, grinning as he reached for another slice.

Regina arched an elegant eyebrow, her lips curving into a faint smile. "It's an abomination, Henry. Fruit does not belong on pizza."

Henry laughed, taking a defiant bite of his Hawaiian slice. "You're missing out."

Regina sipped her wine, a rare moment of relaxation easing the tightness in her chest. "I'll take my chances."

Their banter continued until the last crumbs of pizza were gone, and Henry leaned back in his chair, his grin fading slightly as a thoughtful look crossed his face. Regina noticed immediately.

"Something on your mind?" she asked, her tone softening.

Henry hesitated before speaking. "Did you talk to Emma today?"

Regina stiffened slightly but kept her expression neutral. "I did."

"And?" Henry pressed, his wide eyes curious. "Did you tell her about… you know, curses?"

Regina's lips thinned, and she set her glass down with deliberate care. "That's a complicated subject, Henry. It's not something we can dive into lightly."

Henry frowned, his hands fiddling with the edge of his plate. "She's going to find out eventually. Isn't it better if it comes from you?"

Regina sighed, reaching across the table to place a gentle hand over his. "I understand why you think that. But Emma is… unique. Her role in all of this is far more important than she realizes, and if she learns too much too soon, it could put her in danger."

Henry looked unconvinced but nodded reluctantly. "I just think she'd want to know. She'd want to help."

Regina's heart ached at his earnestness. "She might, Henry. But for now, let's take it one step at a time, alright?"

"Okay," Henry said quietly, though the wheels in his mind were clearly still turning.

She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze before standing. "Now, it's bedtime for you. Go brush your teeth."

Henry groaned but obeyed, retreating upstairs with a comic book tucked under his arm. Regina watched him go, her expression softening. The rare moments like these, when she could simply be a mother, were what she fought so fiercely to protect.

Back at the clearing behind Regina's mansion, Ruby was in the thick of questioning Graham's pack. The wolves stood in a loose circle, their postures tense, their eyes flicking between Ruby and each other. Their loyalty to Graham was still evident in the way they hesitated, but Ruby's sharp gaze and commanding tone quickly wore down their defenses.

One by one, the story began to emerge.

"Keepers were spotted near the edges of the forest about a month ago," one wolf admitted, his voice low.

Another added, "There were strange tracks near the cliffs. They didn't smell like anything natural."

Ruby frowned, her hands on her hips. "And you didn't report this to anyone?"

The wolves shifted uncomfortably, their gazes dropping. "We didn't think it was… relevant," one muttered.

"Not relevant?" Ruby's voice rose, her frustration evident. "Mason's missing, and you've been sitting on this information?"

Graham stood apart from the group, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. His expression was a mix of regret and defiance, and he looked up as Regina approached, her presence instantly commanding attention.

"Here to lecture me some more?" Graham asked bitterly.

Regina's gaze was ice. "No. I'm here to remind you that this is your last chance to prove yourself. Fail me again, and you won't have a pack left to lead."

Graham's jaw tightened, but he nodded. "I understand."

Ruby approached, her expression grim. "We found something. It's not much, but it's a start."

Regina's gaze flicked to the gathered wolves. "Good. Continue the search. Report anything unusual immediately."

Late that night, the mansion was quiet. Henry was in bed, reading by the soft glow of his lamp. Regina sat in her study, a fire crackling in the hearth as Ruby filled her in on the rest of the information they had uncovered.

"Graham's pack is still hesitant," Ruby said, pacing the room. "But they're starting to open up. We've got reports of Keepers moving along the cliffs, some kind of tracks that disappear into thin air. And whispers—wolves talking about shadows moving in the forest."

Regina frowned, her fingers tapping the armrest of her chair. "Anything concrete?"

"Not yet," Ruby admitted, her frustration evident. "But it's clear the Keepers have been active here longer than we realized. And Graham's pack… well, let's just say they're not as innocent as they'd like us to believe."

Regina leaned forward. "What did they tell you?"

Ruby hesitated. "They admitted they've been following you. Watching your routines, mapping your territory. Graham was feeding that information to the Keepers."

The words hit Regina like a blow, her anger simmering beneath the surface. "What else?"

"They know about Henry," Ruby said reluctantly. "And about your parents."

Regina's hands clenched into fists. "How much do they know?"

Ruby shook her head. "Not everything. But enough to be dangerous."

Regina stood, her presence towering over Ruby. "We need names. Who was Graham working with?"

"Two Keepers were mentioned," Ruby said. "Lorien and Alaric. Efron wasn't involved directly—at least, not that they know."

Regina's lips pressed into a thin line. "Lorien and Alaric," she repeated, the names carving themselves into her memory. "They'll regret crossing me."

Ruby nodded. "The pack is still scattered, but they're regrouping. They'll be here by morning."

"Good," Regina said firmly. "We'll need every wolf we can get."

Ruby lingered for a moment, her gaze searching Regina's face. "Are you okay?"

Regina forced a faint smile. "I'm fine, Ruby. Get some rest. Tomorrow, we deal with this."

As Ruby left the room, Regina turned back to the fire, her mind racing. The threads of the Keepers' plot were starting to come together, but the picture was far from complete. And with every revelation, the stakes grew higher.

She glanced out the window at the dark forest beyond, the faint glimmers of her pack's eyes visible in the distance. Mason was still out there. The Keepers were still out there. And as much as she hated to admit it, Graham's betrayal had wounded her more deeply than she'd expected.

But Regina Mills didn't have the luxury of doubt. Not now. Not ever.

Beneath the surface of Storybrooke, deep in an underground chamber concealed by layers of powerful wards, the air was thick with the acrid stench of blood and sweat. The flickering glow of torches cast eerie shadows across the damp stone walls, the light dancing on the runes carved into the floor and ceiling. Mason hung limply from the enchanted chains that bound his wrists, his body battered and broken, yet his spirit still unyielding.

Efron paced the chamber, his expression a mixture of irritation and curiosity. He had underestimated this wolf. Most captives broke within hours, spilling secrets in exchange for mercy. But Mason had endured every form of torment they had inflicted without revealing a single shred of useful information.

"He's stronger than I anticipated," Efron murmured, glancing at the wiry Keeper named Lorien, who stood nearby with his arms crossed. "But everyone has a breaking point."

Lorien's lips curled into a thin smile. "Indeed. Perhaps we simply haven't found his yet." He gestured toward the corner of the chamber, where a tall, imposing figure stepped forward—a Guardian draped in dark robes, his presence radiating menace.

The Guardian raised a hand, his fingers crackling with a faint blue energy. "I have a suggestion," he said, his voice deep and resonant. "Let us use his mind against him."

Efron arched an eyebrow. "Explain."

The Guardian stepped closer, his glowing yellow eyes fixed on Mason's slumped form. "The chamber's enchantments allow us to bend reality, to create illusions so vivid they are indistinguishable from the truth. If we cannot break his body, perhaps we can break his mind."

Lorien's smile widened. "A clever idea. And what better way to do that than to exploit his loyalty to his pack?"

Efron nodded slowly, a calculating look in his eyes. "Who do we use?"

"The name he muttered earlier—Kellan," the Guardian replied. "He's close to this one. It will be believable."

Efron stepped forward, his face mere inches from Mason's bloodied one. "You think you can withstand us?" he whispered, his tone laced with malice. "Let's see how strong you are when we bring someone you care about into this."

Mason's eyes flickered open, his gaze defiant even through the haze of pain. "Do whatever you want to me," he rasped, his voice hoarse but steady. "I won't betray her."

Efron chuckled darkly. "Oh, we're counting on that."

Mason blinked, disoriented as the chamber seemed to shift around him. The cold stone walls blurred, replaced by a dimly lit room. The faint sound of chains rattling reached his ears, and he turned his head to see a figure slumped in a chair opposite him.

"Kellan?" Mason's voice cracked as he recognized the wolf—a close friend, practically a brother. Kellan's face was bruised and bloodied, his chest rising and falling in labored breaths. He was bound to the chair with the same glowing chains that held Mason.

Kellan lifted his head weakly, his eyes meeting Mason's. "Mason... they got me," he whispered, his voice trembling.

"No," Mason growled, his anger reigniting. He strained against his own restraints, the chains biting into his wrists. "You bastards! Let him go!"

Efron's voice echoed from the shadows. "Ah, how touching. Such loyalty. But let's see how far it goes."

The Guardian stepped into view, his hands glowing with malevolent energy. With a flick of his wrist, a surge of blue light shot toward Kellan, slamming into his chest. Kellan screamed in agony, his body convulsing against the restraints.

"Stop!" Mason roared, his voice raw with desperation. "Leave him alone!"

The Guardian ignored him, sending another bolt of energy into Kellan. Mason thrashed against his chains, his muscles straining as he tried in vain to break free.

"Tell us what we want to know," Efron said coldly, stepping into the light. "Give us Regina's weakness, and this ends."

"Never," Mason spat, his teeth bared. "You'll get nothing from me."

Efron tilted his head, his expression almost curious. "Nothing? Even as your friend suffers before your eyes? How noble."

The Guardian sent another wave of magic into Kellan, the screams tearing through Mason's resolve like jagged shards of glass. Tears blurred his vision as he yelled, "Please! Stop it! Don't hurt him!"

Efron crouched in front of Mason, his gaze piercing. "You have the power to stop this, Mason. One word, and your friend walks out of here alive."

Mason's chest heaved as he struggled to maintain his composure. His mind raced, his instincts screaming at him to protect Kellan. But deep down, he knew the truth. This was a game—a twisted illusion designed to break him. Kellan wasn't here. He couldn't be.

But the illusion was too real. Kellan's screams, the smell of burnt flesh, the look of anguish in his eyes—it was all too much.

"Kellan!" Mason yelled, his voice breaking. "Don't give them the satisfaction! Don't say a word!"

The Guardian paused, his glowing hands hovering in the air. Efron exchanged a glance with Lorien, a flicker of intrigue crossing his face.

"Interesting," Lorien murmured. "Even now, he resists."

Efron's expression hardened. "Push him further."

The Guardian obliged, unleashing another torrent of magic into Kellan. Mason let out a guttural roar, his body trembling with rage and grief. His mind teetered on the edge of breaking, the weight of the illusion pressing down on him like a vice.

But he held on. Even as the minutes turned into hours, even as Kellan's cries echoed in his ears, Mason refused to yield.

Finally, the Guardian stepped back, his energy spent. Efron approached Mason, his expression a mix of frustration and grudging respect.

"You're stronger than I gave you credit for," Efron admitted. "Your loyalty is… admirable. But it will be your undoing."

He gestured to the Guardian, who muttered an incantation under his breath. The illusion shattered like glass, the room reverting to its original form. Kellan was gone, replaced by the empty chair that had always been there.

Mason sagged in his restraints, his chest heaving. His body was broken, his mind battered, but his spirit remained intact.

"You'll never break me," he rasped, his voice barely audible.

Efron smirked, though there was a hint of grudging admiration in his eyes. "We'll see about that. For now, rest. You'll need your strength for what's to come."

As the Keepers and Guardians left the chamber, the torches dimmed, leaving Mason alone in the darkness. He closed his eyes, his thoughts clinging to the bond he shared with Regina and the pack. They were his anchor, his reason to endure.

And he would endure. No matter what they threw at him, Mason would not break.

Mason's body ached, every nerve screaming in protest as he hung limply from the enchanted chains. The darkness of the underground chamber pressed in around him, suffocating and unyielding. The Keepers had left him alone, but their voices still echoed in his mind, along with the haunting illusion of Kellan's tortured face. He closed his eyes, willing himself to focus on something—anything—that could bring him a shred of strength.

And then, like a whisper through the void, a memory surfaced. It was faint at first, but it grew sharper, bringing with it a flicker of warmth and determination. It was the first time he had seen her: Regina Mills.

Alpha Leonard George was a name that struck fear into the hearts of many. He was a wolf of unmatched brutality, ruling his territory with an iron fist and a heart as cold as the winter moon. His pack was vast, and his dominance stretched far beyond the edges of his domain. Leonard believed in strength above all else. Mercy was weakness, and loyalty was demanded, not earned.

His history was littered with blood. Leonard's rise to power had been forged through betrayal and violence. He had challenged his predecessor, an aging alpha who sought to lead through balance and fairness. Leonard tore him down in a savage display of power, his victory marking the beginning of a reign defined by fear.

For years, Leonard's warriors scoured neighboring territories, eliminating threats and expanding his influence. Among the countless lives his pack claimed was Mason's family. Mason had been barely more than a pup, no older than eight, when Leonard's wolves descended upon his home.

The night was seared into Mason's memory. Flames licked at the walls of their den as his parents fought valiantly to protect him and his siblings. But Leonard's warriors were relentless, their howls echoing through the chaos. Mason had hidden, trembling, in a hollow beneath the floorboards. When the dawn broke, the den was reduced to ashes, and his family was gone.

The warriors found him hours later, their expressions feigning concern as they pulled him from his hiding place. "You're safe now," one of them lied, their blood-stained claws a stark contrast to their soothing words. They took him to Leonard, presenting him as a rescued orphan. Mason, too young to understand their deception, believed them.

For years, Mason grew under Leonard's watchful eye, an outsider within the pack. He was given tasks—menial at first, but they grew in complexity as he aged. Leonard saw potential in the boy, but not enough to truly trust him. Mason knew he was expendable, a pawn in Leonard's ruthless games.

The memory that surfaced now was from a time when Mason was no older than fourteen. He had been assigned to patrol the northern border, a task he took on with quiet determination. It was his chance to prove himself, to show Leonard and the others that he could be more than a tool.

But the northern border was treacherous, and Mason, still inexperienced, unknowingly crossed into forbidden territory. It was a stretch of land claimed by neither Leonard nor any neighboring pack. It was considered cursed, a place where even the boldest wolves hesitated to tread.

Mason realized his mistake too late. The air grew colder, the trees denser, their gnarled branches like skeletal hands reaching for him. And then, he heard the growls—low, guttural, and filled with malice. Leonard and his warriors had followed him, their presence an oppressive force that sent chills down his spine.

"What do you think you're doing?" Leonard's voice was a snarl, his towering form emerging from the shadows. His crimson eyes gleamed with fury. "Do you have any idea where you are?"

"I-I didn't know," Mason stammered, his heart pounding in his chest. "I made a mistake."

Leonard's lip curled, exposing sharp fangs. "A mistake? Do you know what mistakes cost in my pack?"

The warriors encircled Mason, their snarls a chilling symphony. Mason's legs trembled, his instincts screaming at him to run, but he knew there was no escape. Leonard stepped closer, his claws extending. "You've brought shame upon my pack," he growled. "And there's only one way to atone."

Mason braced himself, closing his eyes as Leonard raised a clawed hand. But the killing blow never came.

A sudden roar split the air, powerful and commanding. Mason's eyes snapped open to see a figure standing at the edge of the clearing. She moved with a grace that was almost otherworldly, her presence radiating authority. Her black hair shimmered under the faint moonlight, and her crimson eyes burned with a fire that seemed to rival Leonard's own.

"Enough," Regina Mills said, her voice slicing through the tension like a blade. "He's just a boy."

Leonard turned, his snarl deepening. "This is none of your concern, Regina."

"It is when you're about to slaughter a child for a mistake," she countered, stepping forward. Her posture was calm, but there was an undeniable power in her every move. "Have you no sense of justice, Leonard?"

The warriors hesitated, their gazes flicking between Leonard and Regina. Leonard growled, his claws lowering slightly. "Stay out of this, Regina," he warned. "This is my pack, my rules."

"And you wonder why no one respects you," Regina said, her tone sharp as a whip. "Your strength is built on fear, Leonard. But fear doesn't make a pack strong. Loyalty does."

Leonard's eyes narrowed, his body tensing as though he might strike her. But Regina didn't flinch. She held his gaze, her expression unyielding.

Finally, Leonard let out a frustrated growl and stepped back. "Fine. Take him. But remember this, Regina—you're playing a dangerous game."

Regina ignored him, turning her attention to Mason. She crouched before him, her gaze softening. "Are you hurt?" she asked gently.

Mason shook his head, though his body trembled. "N-no."

"Good," she said, offering him a small, reassuring smile. "You're safe now."

She helped him to his feet, her touch firm but kind. As she guided him away from the clearing, Mason couldn't help but glance back at Leonard and his warriors. Their eyes burned with resentment, but they didn't follow.

In the darkness of the underground chamber, Mason clung to that memory like a lifeline. He remembered the way Regina had stood up to Leonard, the way she had protected him even though he wasn't her responsibility. She had seen something in him—something worth saving.

"She'll come," Mason whispered to himself, his voice a fragile echo in the silence. "She always does."

The thought steadied him, his resolve hardening like steel. No matter what the Keepers and Guardians did to him, Mason wouldn't break. Not when he had Regina to fight for. Not when he knew what true strength and loyalty looked like.