The Ghost wolf's Bride

Chapter 5: A Viper’s True Colors

Theme: Trust and Betrayal

The weekly meetup was being held in the great hall. There was a serious smell of roasted meat and ale in the air, but they were all in a tense state. Threnody had slipped into the shadows, with the feeling of those hostile glares. She saw Sorin in the opposite side of the room talking with Morwenna, as still, as when he was being healed.

Suddenly Kael stands in her way. He reeks of liquor and his eyes are clouded with rage. Why, it can never be the Mosswood healer. A group is beginning to surround them. Your little mitey-two-bits on the Alpha will not help you here. Threnody attempts to go round him. I do not want to get into trouble, please, Kael, said the latter. “We all know the truth. You had sent those green men there to kill him. It was your scheme, all right, she says tremulously. Oh, is it? he sneers, bending over. “Then prove it. Show us what you can really do. Go on. Shift for us. Let’s see your Mosswood fur.” The audience is already talking, anticipating a spectacle.

“I… I can not, Threnody whispers, which I hear. Kael’s face twists in triumph. “You can’t? Or you won’t? Are you even a true wolf? Or are you a spy or are you a mere little human being who came to poison us within? His hand strikes out and before she has time to act, he has caught her arm and is holding on like iron. Let us get the truth out of you!

As soon as Kael touches her skin, Threnody bursts with power, but this time, it is different. She wasn’t ready. Her wall she habitually maintains collapses. Her panic and fear force something out instead of drawing his anger into her. She never sends his pain to him; she sends to him Sorin.

The recollection of the depressing loneliness that she experienced in the study, the lonely boy, the heavy crown, the cold fear of becoming a monster, hits Kael like a physical strike. He takes in breath, eyes gawking. The sneering arrogance disappears off his face. He sets her free like a burnt arm, falls back. Another sob, choke, wet, breaks his throat, and his expression of tough, hardened manhood breaks into agonized grief. His eyes filled with tears--not his tears.

The audience is quieted down, followed by its withdrawal. What enchantment is this? screams a woman. He does not even get touched by her, a man shouts. Kael drops to his knees with his head in his hands and shatters because he can not comprehend a feeling. Turning his gaze out of himself towards Threnody, the pack is now filled with pure, raw, undiluted terror.

Madwoman! somebody says in the back. “She cursed him!” Morwenna withdraws her sword with flashing eyes. “I knew it! She’s a Mosswood witch!” The circle of Threnody narrows down and forms a cage of gnaring faces and threatening gestures. She retreats, yet she has nowhere to retreat to. Morwenna cannot even move another step, when a shadow comes between them all.

“Enough.” The voice of Sorin is low, but like a blade he cuts through the noise. He works his way through the crowd, which gives way immediately to him. He does not run, he stalks, and his presence is full of dominant power that crackles the air.

He puts his body in between the sword drawn by Threnody and that of Morwenna and uses his own body to shield the two. He peeps down on Kael, who still stands on the floor, weeping. The eyes of Sorin are ghastly, silver. Thou, he scowls, promise volume violence in the speech. And I will smash that arm and give it to you, should you ever touch her again. He raises his eyes and glances over each of the pack members without any possible doubt.

He makes this known to all of you, and it echoes through the hall. Threnody is under my safety. She’s my guest. And she’s my mate. Everybody who threatens her responds to me. Is that understood?” The silence is absolute. It is the first time he makes any overt claim of her. The first time he defends her.

The pack gazes down on their shattered Beta to their enraged Alpha and they know that the equilibrium of power just changed indefinitely.

Then, concealed in her room, Threnody shakes. The defense by Sorin allowed her to survive, but at the same time made her an even greater target. She can no longer be a victim. She needs proof. She needs to determine who the actual assassins are. At the moment the fortress becomes quiet she creeps out of her room. She is aware of the place she needs to visit: the personal study of Vance.

The room is clean and well organized, similar to the man. She glances around shelves and desks searching for something personal, something he could touch frequently. Her eyes are on the well-made dagger standing on a dagger. It is his favourite; he had polished it, she had watched him. She makes a deep breath and wraps her hands around the hilt. The sight of it is a tidal wave to her. It is not merely an emotion or a recollection. He is speaking in this very room in his voice, clear and cold.

The voice of Kill the Ghost Wolf speaks to her. But have it appear that the Mosswood bride did it. Use their colors. The pack will be weak without Sorin. They will only be left with no option but to approach me. And then we can have the real friendship of the Shadow Fang pack. The reality is the chilled knife in her stomach. It’s Vance.

His kindness is a lie. He’s a traitor. It is he who has Sorin that he would want to kill so he can negotiate with their actual enemy. The frightening thought sinks into her consciousness when the door of the study opens with a creak. Threnody is paralyzed, her blood is ice.

Vance stood in the doorway, his charming smile gone, his eyes as cold and dead as the stone around them. He looked at the dagger in her hands, then back to her face.

"Looking for something, my dear?" he asked, his voice dangerously soft.

He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. The quiet click of the lock was the loudest sound she had ever heard.

He was no longer the friendly uncle. The mask was off. The viper was finally showing its true colors, and she was trapped in the den with him.