BLOOD OATH EMPIRE

CHAPTER 12 : The South Wing

POV: Alessia De Luca

The silver blade stayed hidden beneath Alessia’s sleeve all morning. Not because she planned to use it but because she couldn’t stop thinking about why Cassian Volkov kept it beside his bed.

A weapon designed to kill wolves, a weapon designed to kill himself. The realization followed her through the fortress like a shadow.

Outside her bedroom, armed guards tracked every movement she made now. Volkov wolves, massive men dressed in black tactical suits beneath long winter coats. Cold eyes, silver weapons. Predators pretending to be human.

Cassian’s new orders were obvious. Protect her or contain her, possibly both because if rival families discovered instability inside the Volkov marriage alliance, eastern ports, oil routes, and private military contracts tied to the empire could fracture within days.

Alessia walked through the fortress corridors slowly, pretending not to notice the guards shadowing her from several feet away. Black marble stretched endlessly beneath dim amber lighting while snow hammered against towering windows overlooking frozen mountains.

The Volkov fortress no longer felt like a mansion. It felt like a kingdom preparing for war, encrypted council meetings had already begun before sunrise, territory maps covered strategy rooms upstairs, while Volkov financiers rerouted laundering operations through offshore casino networks anticipating further attacks.

Whispers followed her everywhere. Servants lowered their gazes immediately when she passed, soldiers stiffened, council members watched too carefully. Word about the Alpha’s bedroom had already spread. Of course it had.

Empires survived on information and inside syndicates this wealthy, information moved faster than bullets. Council votes, political bribery, weapons contracts, and assassination rumors traveled through the fortress before breakfast.

And now the fortress knew something dangerous: The Black Alpha was attached to his wife. That made Alessia both valuable and vulnerable.

A pair of wolves stood outside massive iron doors ahead. One of them straightened immediately when she approached.

“South Wing is restricted, Mrs. Volkov.”

Interesting, not forbidden, restricted.

Alessia tilted her head slightly.

“Restricted from me?”

The wolves exchanged brief glances.

Tiny hesitation, enough.

“Yes.”

Definitely forbidden then.

Her curiosity sharpened instantly.

“What’s inside?”

“Private Volkov territory.”

That answer told her absolutely nothing, which meant whatever existed beyond those doors mattered.

A lot.

Alessia folded her arms calmly.

“And Cassian specifically ordered me away from it?”

Another hesitation, wrong move.

“He ordered everyone away from it.”

Interesting, very interesting because powerful men only buried things they feared and Cassian Volkov feared almost nothing.

Alessia gave a small nod like she accepted the answer before turning away casually.

The guards relaxed immediately. Mistake, huge mistake because the second their attention shifted, Alessia memorized the security pattern surrounding the South Wing.

Two guards, rotating every twenty minutes. Electronic locks, no cameras inside the hallway itself. Which meant whatever they protected required privacy more than surveillance.

Hours later she returned alone or as alone as possible inside a fortress filled with wolves.

The shift change happened exactly when she predicted. Twenty minutes. Precise, military discipline. As one pair of guards rotated downstairs, Alessia slipped silently through a side corridor before the replacements arrived.

Her pulse quickened immediately, not fear, adrenaline. Dangerous difference.

The South Wing felt colder than the rest of the fortress. Older too. Dust covered sections of black stone walls untouched for years while dim lights flickered overhead like the corridor itself resisted being awake. No servants, no guards, no sounds. Only silence.

Alessia walked deeper carefully.

Every instinct warned her to turn back. Naturally, she ignored it. Several heavy doors lined the corridor. Locked, reinforced. Some bore deep claw marks across the steel. Not scratches, damage like something enormous had tried escaping from inside.

Her stomach tightened.

Then she noticed the symbols, ancient carvings burned directly into the walls beside certain doors. Wolves, moons, blood.

A language older than modern syndicates. The deeper she walked, the stranger the fortress became. Luxury disappeared entirely here. No polished marble, no expensive art. Only stone, steel and old violence soaked into the walls.

Then Alessia heard it. A sound, faint metal clanging somewhere below.

She froze instantly.

Another sound followed.

A low growl. Human enough to be horrifying, wolf enough to be worse.

Her pulse accelerated sharply.

There was something beneath the South Wing, something alive.

Alessia moved toward the sound carefully until she reached a narrow staircase spiraling downward beneath the fortress.Cold air rushed upward immediately carrying unfamiliar scents. Blood, silver, wet stone and wolves. Not ordinary wolves, something darker.

The deeper she descended, the louder the sounds became. Chains dragging, heavy breathing, low snarling echoing through darkness.

God.

What exactly was this place?

The staircase finally opened into an underground corridor lined with iron cells.

Alessia stopped cold.

Chains hung from stone walls everywhere, massive silver restraints bolted directly into reinforced floors. Some broken, some bent apart violently, others stained dark with old blood. Horror crawled slowly down her spine.

These weren’t prison cells, they were cages built for monsters. Not fantasy monsters, dynasty monsters. The kind raised inside criminal bloodlines powerful enough to influence governments, collapse economies, and erase entire syndicates quietly.

Another growl echoed nearby. Closer now.

Alessia turned sharply toward one partially open cell. Claw marks shredded the interior walls deeply enough to expose concrete beneath the stone.

And suddenly, she understood.

Volkov heirs.

This was where they locked themselves during transformations. Not criminals, not enemies, family.

The realization hit brutally.

Cassian chained himself here.

The Black Alpha. Head of the most feared underground empire in the eastern territories, a man senators bribed, cartels negotiated with, and rival dynasties feared enough to avoid speaking his name publicly.

Alone, every full moon.

Her chest tightened unexpectedly because she could suddenly picture it too clearly. Cassian fighting himself inside darkness while the wolf tried tearing through his skin. Bleeding, breaking, losing control. Alone.

A sound behind her made Alessia spin instantly.

Nothing, only darkness stretching endlessly through underground corridors. But the air had changed.

Someone else was here, watching.

Alessia reached slowly beneath her sleeve, touching the silver blade hidden there.

The movement felt ridiculous immediately afterward.

A knife against wolves, against monsters, against the Black Alpha himself.

Still, she kept her hand there anyway. Another growl erupted suddenly from deeper underground.

This one sounded wrong. Agonized, Inhuman. Like something suffering beyond reason.

Alessia followed the sound despite every survival instinct, screaming otherwise.

The corridor narrowed ahead before opening into a larger underground chamber.

Then she saw them. More cells, dozens. Some empty, others destroyed completely. And directly in the center of the chamber a reinforced steel restraint chair bolted into the floor. Silver chains dangled from it heavily.

Her stomach twisted.

No.

Not a chair, an execution restraint. Built to survive Alpha strength, built for Cassian or someone worse.

Alessia stepped closer slowly before noticing words carved into the steel itself.

VOLKOV BLOOD MUST NEVER RULE UNCHAINED.

A chill spread through her instantly.

What the hell happened in this family?

Footsteps echoed suddenly behind her.

Alessia spun around sharply and found an old man standing partially inside the shadows.

Thin, grey-haired, one blind eye clouded white with age but the other eye sharp, terrifyingly sharp.

He wore servant clothing, yet nothing about him felt weak. He studied Alessia silently for several long seconds before speaking.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

His voice rasped like gravel.

Alessia straightened immediately.

“Neither should you.”

A faint smile touched the old man’s mouth.

Interesting.

“You’re De Luca’s daughter.”

Not a question. A statement.

“Yes.”

“And now the fortress shakes because of you.”

The words settled strangely in the underground chamber.

Alessia crossed her arms slowly.

“People keep saying things like that without explaining anything.”

The old man looked toward the cells.

“Some truths survive buried longer.”

“Especially truths capable of destabilizing empires.

The Volkov bloodline wasn’t merely powerful.

It controlled private armies, shipping monopolies, laundering networks, and political corruption chains stretching across multiple governments.”

“That usually means they’re dangerous.”

“It means they’re expensive.”

Interesting answer. Very mafia.

The old servant walked slowly toward one shattered cell, running rough fingers across claw-marked steel.

“I watched Cassian’s father chained here once.”

Alessia’s pulse quickened.

The old man continued quietly.

“He sounded human the first few years.”

A cold feeling spread through her stomach.

“Then what happened?”

Silence.

The servant’s expression darkened.

“The curse always wins eventually.”

A scream erupted somewhere deeper underground.

Alessia flinched instinctively.

Not human, definitely not human.

The old man didn’t react at all. Like he’d heard worse before.

“What is that?” she asked quietly.

“Proof.”

“Of what?”

The servant finally looked directly at her again.

“That monsters aren’t born overnight.”

The words hit harder than expected because suddenly she remembered the silver blade beneath Cassian’s pillow, the exhaustion in his eyes. The fear he carried around himself constantly. Not fear of enemies, fear of becoming something.

The old servant stepped closer, lowering his voice carefully.

“You think the Black Alpha is dangerous now?”

Alessia said nothing because, yes Cassian terrified her but not always for the reasons he should.

The servant’s remaining eye sharpened further.

“Then pray you never meet what his father became.” “Because when powerful wolves lost control, entire criminal empires bled with them.”

Ice slid down her spine.

“What happened to him?”

The old man stared at her for several long seconds.

Then finally, “He killed the only thing he ever loved.”

Silence crashed through the underground chamber.

The curse. Destroy the person they love most.

Cassian had told her part of it already.

But hearing it spoken aloud here inside the cages, made it real. Horribly real.

Another realization followed immediately afterward.

Cassian was terrified of hurting her not because he lacked control but because he’d seen exactly what happened when Volkov heirs lost it.

The old servant suddenly stepped backward sharply. Listening.

Alessia frowned.

“What?”

He looked toward the staircase above.

“They’re coming.”

Her pulse jumped.

“Who?”

“The wolves are searching for you.”

Damn it.

The old man moved toward the darkness again before pausing one final time.

“Leave this place, girl.”

Alessia’s voice stopped him.

“Why are you telling me this?”

His expression turned unreadable.

“Because someone should know what’s happening to him before it’s too late.”

Then he disappeared into darkness completely. Footsteps thundered overhead seconds later. Voices, armed wolves. Searching.

Alessia moved quickly back toward the staircase before suddenly freezing. A whisper drifted softly through the underground corridor behind her. So quiet she almost thought she imagined it. Almost.

“The Black Alpha is becoming his father.”

Her blood turned cold instantly because, this time the voice hadn’t come from the old servant.

It came from inside one of the cells.