Chapter 4 - The Council’s Web and Lydia’s Plot
The floor shook beneath their feet. Glass shattered somewhere down the hall, followed by the distant, echoing roar of a wolf in pain.
Kellen’s demeanor shifted from a conflicted man to an absolute killing machine in a fraction of a second. The Iron Wolf had awakened.
“Stay here,” Kellen ordered, his voice brooking no argument. He grabbed a silver-hilted combat dagger from his desk and secured it to his belt.
“Kellen, wait—!” Ivy cried, standing up.
“Lock this door. Do not open it for anyone. Not even me, unless I give you the passphrase: Winter Frost.”
Without waiting for a reply, Kellen bolted out of the study.
Down in the east wing, chaos reigned. Smoke billowed from a secondary medical ward where Toby had been temporarily relocated for extra security. Guards were shouting, and heavy boots thundered against the stone floors.
Kellen rounded the corner, his eyes flashing gold in the dim emergency lighting.
Two massive rogue wolves—packless mercenaries hired by the council—were tearing through the security detail. Their fur was matted with artificial dark mana, the exact same oily black smoke that had poisoned Toby.
“Alpha!” Gregorian shouted, ducking behind a marble pillar as a rogue lunged at him.
Kellen didn't hesitate. With a low, terrifying roar, he shifted halfway, his muscles expanding, his claws elongating, a blinding aura of silver energy bursting from his frame. In three massive bounds, he intercepted the first rogue, slamming the beast into the stone wall with bone-crushing force.
The second rogue lunged from behind, but Kellen spun, driving his fist straight through its chest cavity. The dark magic dissolved into thin air with a sharp, hissing shriek.
Silence fell over the scorched hallway as the rogue bodies faded into ash.
Gregorian stepped out from cover, panting, his uniform torn. “Alpha... they breached the inner perimeter. Someone gave them the security codes.”
Kellen wiped a streak of blood from his cheek, his breathing heavy. “Only three people in this palace have the master security codes: Me, Gregorian... and Lydia.”
Meanwhile, two floors above, Lydia Vance stood on her private balcony, clutching a crystal chalice of wine. Her knuckles were white.
Across from her stood a cloaked figure—a dark shaman from the western mountains, his face hidden beneath a hood.
“You failed,” Lydia hissed, her voice venomous. “The boy is still breathing, and now Kellen has arrested Thorne!”
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“The cleaning girl is more powerful than we calculated,” the shaman rasped, stepping out of the shadows. “She didn't just heal the prince; she purged my curse entirely. If she stays by the Alpha’s side, she will uncover the entire conspiracy. She must be eliminated.”
“No,” Lydia smiled cruelly, taking a sip of her wine. “Killing her now makes her a martyr. Kellen is already infatuated with her. Instead... we frame her for high treason. We make it look like she poisoned the prince a second time—and this time, there will be no saving him.”
