"Who are you," Erald hissed, pressing the blade tighter to the man’s throat, "and who sent you?"
The masked intruder didn’t answer.
Instead, he growled low and twisted beneath her, using brute force to shove her off balance.
Erald hit the floor with a harsh grunt, the wind knocked from her lungs as the man flipped her, pinning her down with one knee to her hand, one hand on her second hand and a gloved hand around his dagger.
Viola snarled within her, but Erald’s hands were empty; her dagger had been knocked across the room. Her fingers scraped frantically at the floor as the assassin’s blade glead in the moonlight, hovering above her heart.
"Bastard," she choked, twisting under him.
She was able to free one hand and threw a punch at him.
Just then, the doors burst open.
"Alpha!"
The masked figure jerked his head toward the sound just as the hallway flooded with guards, and Darius, sword in hand, eyes blazing.
The hesitation was all Erald needed.
Her hand found her fallen dagger, and with a cry, she drove the blade into his arm.
The masked man howled, releasing her instantly. Blood spattered across the marble floor as he staggered back.
Darius was on him in a flash, driving a fist into the man’s jaw before he could flee. Two guards tackled him, pinning him to the ground.
"Erald, are you hurt?" Darius rushed to her side, kneeling as she pushed herself up, her breath still ragged.
"No," she rasped. "I’m fine." Her hands trembled, but her voice was like steel.
Heavy bootfalls thundered in from the hallway.
Nessa appeared, half-dressed in sleepwear, eyes wide. "Oh my goddess! What the hell happened?!"
"A welco party," Erald muttered, brushing blood from her cheek. "Sobody decided I wasn’t fit to wear a crown or sothing."
Nessa stared in horror. "You were attacked in your room?!"
Darius stood, his jaw clenched as he looked over the subdued attacker. "My fears are already coming true," he growled. "Only so many people are comfortable with a female Alpha. But to make a move like this, this early?"
"They didn’t co to intimidate," Erald said coldly, her eyes on the blood soaking the marble. "They ca to kill."
—
Erald didn’t wait.
She stord into the dungeons barefoot, her night robe barely tied around her waist. Her hair was a ss, and blood streaked her shoulder from where the intruder had grazed her earlier. She looked like hell.
She looked like vengeance.
Guards saluted her as she passed, their eyes darting to the thick iron cell where the masked man had been thrown. Darius and Nessa flanked her.
"I want answers," Erald snarled as the cell door opened.
The man sat bound to a chair, hands and feet shackled, his mask torn off. His face was young. Mid-twenties maybe. Pale eyes. Pale skin. No tattoos. Nothing to identify him.
Erald stepped forward.
"You ca into my room... with a dagger..." she began slowly, almost too calmly. "And tried to kill . So I’m going to give you one chance. Tell who sent you."
The man didn’t speak.
She circled him. "You don’t speak now? You were quite animated a few minutes ago while trying to slice open."
Still no answer.
Viola growled. "Let out. Let tear him apart."
Darius placed a hand on her shoulder. "Don’t let your anger blind you."
But she shook him off.
"I could torture you," she continued. "Or better... I could throw you into a clearing with three possessive Alphas and tell them you tried to lay hands on ."
His eyes flicked to her, but they showed no emotions.
"Or maybe I’ll just cut sothing off every ti you fail to answer. Starting with your ears."
The prisoner scoffed, earning a backhand slap from Erald.
"You think I’m weak?" she asked, her voice rising. "You think you can take out like I’m just another girl who got too loud for the room? You don’t get to treat like I’m disposable. Like I’m a threat you can eliminate."
He still didn’t speak, but she saw sothing flicker in his eyes.
Satisfaction.
Like her anger was proof that she didn’t deserve the crown.
Flashbacks tore through her mind: Rick standing above her, whip in hand, Alia’s smug smile, the burning wolfsbane slicing through her skin.
"You people," she hissed, voice trembling, "have no idea what I’ve survived."
She slamd him against the wall. "Who sent you?"
The man’s lips curled into a faint smirk. "You’re not hard to hate, Alpha."
Erald’s vision blurred with rage.
"Em," Nessa interrupted softly. "You’re shaking."
"I’m fine," she hissed, even though she was panting and her hands were trembling.
"You’re flashing again."
Erald ignored, glaring back at the prisoner. "You don’t get to silence like they did," she snarled, pulling out her dagger.
"Em," Darius stepped in quickly, grabbing her wrist. "That’s enough."
She looked at him, eyes wide.
"You don’t need to beco what they think you are to prove them wrong," he said quietly.
Erald’s breathing slowed.
She stared at the man, seething. "Then he better talk. Because I’m done playing nice."
The prisoner stared at her.
"There’s little I can do at this point," Darius said, facing the prisoner. "Speak! Who ordered the attack?"
Finally, the man spoke.
"A wolf in council robes," he said, voice rasping. "Didn’t give a na. Just a bag of silver and an order to cut out the stain before it spreads."
The room went still.
Erald stepped back, her fury giving way to a different kind of chill.
"Who?" Darius demanded, stepping forward. "Na. Now."
But the man’s jaw locked.
Then, before any of them could react, he bit down... hard.
A sickening crunch filled the room.
"No!" Nessa gasped.
"Stop him!" Darius barked, lunging forward.
But the damage was done.
Blood erupted from the man’s mouth as he spat sothing wet and dark onto the floor: his tongue. He howled, a garbled, gurgling sound of agony, writhing in his chains as blood poured down his chin.
Erald recoiled, montarily stunned. "Did he just bite off his tongue?"
Darius cursed under his breath. "He was prepared for this."
The guards rushed in, securing the prisoner as he thrashed, now unable to speak, only growl and snarl like a feral beast.
"They have spies with suicide protocols," Nessa whispered, pale-faced. "He didn’t even hesitate."
"They knew we’d get to him," Darius muttered grimly. "Whoever they are... they planned for failure."
Erald stood stiffly, her nails digging into her palms, fury rising like wildfire beneath her skin.
She looked at the intruder, at the blood soaking the stone floor. "You think this will stop ?" she whispered coldly. "It won’t."
The prisoner t her gaze through the pain, and even with blood running from his mouth, he managed to smirk.
Erald turned sharply, cloak snapping behind her as she stord out of the cell.
She could feel the Council’s whispers all the way back to her chambers.
—
By the ti she reached the study, her mind was spinning.
Which one? Elder Malric? Eldara? The two robed n she passed earlier?
She couldn’t think straight. Her head throbbed, and her throat felt dry. So, she decided to walk.
She wandered through the quiet corridors, barefoot, her robe flowing behind her. The garden was lit by the moon, and the cool grass felt nice under her feet.
Eventually, she reached the middle of the lawn, lay down, and looked up at the stars.
With her arms wide open, she took a deep breath and soaked in the peacefulness.
She felt exhausted. Exhausted by the violence, the constant politics, and the pressure to always prove herself.
"I didn’t ask for this," she whispered.
Viola murmured gently. "But you were born for it."
Suddenly, Erald heard the crunch of footsteps on the gravel, causing her heart to skip a beat. She quickly turned her head to see who it was.
Adrien stood there, hands in his pockets, a knowing smile playing on his lips. His red-blonde hair shimred in the moonlight, and his eyes sparkled with fire.
"Hello, my lady," he said softly.
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