Chapter Eight
1116 Words
I wasn't meant to be a quiet captive. This silence of the room was even worse than the shouting in the auction square—it was the silence of a secret kept under lock and key.
I stood by the window, my forehead leaning against the cool stone.
Staring at Veal Keep's environment—very dangerous, confusing and filled with hidden threats.
I could hear them. The lycans.
I was separated from the danger by a stone wall. I felt the vibration of their movement.
They felt powerful, coordinated and whispering close.
I touched the mark on my neck again. It was still hot, a pulse of fire that seemed to beat in sync with Ronan’s heart somewhere deep within the fortress.
It was a brand, a claim, a promise.
But as i looked at the mirror, i had to see past the surface, looking at myself as if this was a moment of clarity.
This self-examination made me recall the cold, harsh truth. I realized this was also a death sentence.
I am literally the target.
Deep down, I told myself "You can't stay here!"
I am the daughter of Edevane, and one thing I've learned at least from my father was to never allow someone hold a knife to your throat and call it mercy.
I slipped out into the corridor. The stones beneath my feet was very cold. I just ignored, escaping was the focus.
I moved so silently, trying my best to not anyone hear me. Like someone who has mastered the art of being forgotten.
I navigated the hallway until I reached a balcony overlooking the Great Hall.
Below, the scene was a momentarily paused. I saw Ronan stood at the center of the hall, his back was facing the grand entrance.
There was a woman standing opposite him. She was radiating ice, calculating power all could see was a hero.
Even the guards that were meant to be the muscle and authority of the room were backing away from her. She was dangerous.
Wren.
She was like a polished balde: Sharp, cold, and designed to draw blood. Yet, impossible to ignore.
She wore a dress made with stiff leather and gleaming silver. She wasn't just in the room; she stood likea masterpiece of political arrogance.
Her silence demanded that every eye in the hall look at her, and leave any form of pride in them.
Aldric who was Ronan's uncle stood silent beside her. As Wren was the flashing blade, he was the shadow it casted.
His eyes were unreadable, just fixed on the king. He watched with yhe patience of a spider, not rushing anything, he was simply letting the trap set by itself.
"You have brought a human into the sanctum of the Lycan throne, Ronan," Wren said, clear and sharp as breaking glass.
"You spat on our oldest sacred laws. You have literally shamed yourself! And insulted every pack of Alpha who bound theur loyalty to your alliance."
Ronan didn't move. He didn't even turn to face her.
"I broke no laws, Wren. I've fulfilled a legacy. Your pack is so blindef by counting coins and collecting titles that you can't even see the bigger picture."
"Legacy?" Aldric chimed in, his voice a smooth, dangerous silk, you could feel the threat in it.
"Is that the official title for a street-rat mate now? This council isn't blind, kid. And you better remember the packs are hungry—looking for blood."
"Let them starve," Ronan snarled, and for the first time, I heard the beast in his voice. It wasn't the man I had left in the bedroom; it was a predator depending his territory.
"This Keep is mine. The crown is mine. And my mate is under my protection. If anyone here—Alpha or Elder—thinks they can challenge that, they are welcome to step forward."
Then came the silence, heavy and suffocating. I leaned closer, my heart beating so hard and fast.
When i saw Wren’s sudden gaze toward the upper levels where i was hidden, i froze. Her expression wasn't just angry; it was calculating. She was scanning the darkness, searching for me.
Then she smiled, and it was a wicked, ugly thing that made the coldest fear grip me and the hairs on my arms stand up.
"Oh, Ronan," she whispered, her voice clear, loud enough to travel across the whole hall.
"You think you’re protecting her? You’ve just made her the most vulnerable creature in this world. You’ve given us the one thing we need to strip that crown from your head."
She turned, her cloak sweeping the floor, and then, she signaled the people behind her, giving them a sharp nod.
"We will wait, King Ronan. We will wait for the moment your 'sanctuary' fails. And it will fail. Because a human heart stops, but you see a Lycan’s grudge? It is eternal."
As they began to exit, i took a step back, completely frozen. Now it finally clicked. I wasn't equal to anyone here. I was just a piece in their game, a pawn she was ready to sacrifice.
It didn't matter how powerful Ronan was. We were playing a game where the rules were already rigged from the start.
I turned to run back to my room, but a hand quickly clamped firmly over my mouth.
I didn't scream. I put my hand into my apron pocket, but it was empty. Acting on pure instinct, I then threw a wicked back-elbow and caught a mouthful of solid muscle.
"Easy, girl," a gravelly voice whispered in my ear.
I spun around, my back hitting the wall, and found myself staring into the eyes of a guard I hadn't seen before.
He wasn't one of the ones in the hall. This guard was older, his face was full of scars and he already had a finger pressed on his lips, demanding silence from me.
"The King is a fool for thinking he can hide you," he uttered.
"But he is a dead man if he keeps you here. If you want to survive, you need to stop being a secret. You need to be a player."
"Who are you?" I demanded, my voice trembling.
"Someone who hates Aldric more than you hate your father," he said, turning toward the shadows.
"Follow me, or stay here and wait for Wren to find you. She’s already on her way."
My whole world was crashing down before my eyes. I was left with a choice: run again, or just finally stop running and start fighting.
I followed him into the dark.
- Writer
