Chapter 6 - Whispers in the Dark
The war room beneath the keep was cold, smelling of damp stone, old parchment, and the sharp scent of heating steel.
Rowan stood at the head of the heavy oak map table, his fists braced against the rough wood, staring down at the intercepted parchment. The ink was fresh, the writing precise and treasonous. Malakor Vane hadn't just been conspiring with northern bandits; he had been buying intelligence on the fortress's defenses, specifically inquiring about the exact recovery timeline of the great wolf and the "foreign Omega" residing in the west wing.
"He wants the crown compromised," Gideon said, pacing slowly near the shadowed archway. "If Vane can orchestrate a border raid on the night of the full moon, while the guards are stretched thin along the lower ridge, he can force the council to declare an emergency regency. He thinks you're too weak to rule without Valen by your side."
"He thinks I am distracted," Rowan corrected coldly, his voice dropping an octave into a low, terrifying rumble that rattled the iron lanterns overhead. "He thinks bringing an Omega into my fortress was an act of sentimentality rather than a declaration of war."
Eliza stood quietly near the back of the room, watching the king. She had insisted on coming down with them, despite Gideon’s initial protests.
"Malakor isn't acting alone," Eliza said softly, stepping closer to the table.
Rowan looked up, his fierce gaze instantly softening as it met hers. "What do you mean?"
"When I crossed the Sea of Bones, Evelyn told me something," Eliza explained, her gray eyes steady. "She said the root was only half the key. But she also warned me that shadows follow gifts traded in silence. Vane knows something about the sanctuary, Rowan. Why else would he be so desperately interested in an ordinary healer from Frost Hollow?"
Rowan straightened up, walking around the table until he stood directly in front of her. Without hesitation, he reached out, his warm fingers gently clasping her hand.
"You are not ordinary, Eliza," Rowan said, his voice dropping to a low, intense murmur meant only for her ears. "Never say that again."
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Before Eliza could reply, a sudden, violent crash echoed from the upper corridor, followed by the sharp, metallic shriek of clashing steel and a terrifying, bone-chilling howl from Valen.
Rowan spun around, drawing his broadsword in a single, fluid motion. "Gideon! Secure the perimeter!"
