Chapter 4 - The Heir’s Confession
The air in the dungeon grew so thick with tension that even the flickering torches seemed to struggle to stay lit.
Cassian Kale stepped down the stone stairs leisurely, his velvet boots avoiding the puddles of rainwater as if he were strolling through a royal garden rather than a damp, blood-stained dungeon. His fingers lightly traced the silver pommel of his ceremonial sword, a smug, untouchable grin plastered across his face.
"You really thought it was just politics, didn't you?" Cassian laughed, a light, airy sound that grated against the heavy silence of the room. He cast a pitying glance at Fenrik, who was now standing upright inside the broken cell, his hands gripping the iron bars with enough force to warp the metal. "You thought your little pack council voted to exile her because she wasn't noble enough? Because the Kales demanded a pureblood bride?"
Fenrik’s eyes narrowed into slits of lethal intent. "Speak plainly, Kale, before I rip those teeth from your throat."
"With what strength, broken dog?" Cassian mocked, stepping closer, though he kept a safe distance from the towering golden glow radiating from behind Revna. "You’re half-starved, your core is bleeding out, and your precious little mate is carrying a walking death sentence."
Revna’s expression didn't change, but her hand clenched into a tight fist at her side. "The only death sentence in this room belongs to the men who thought they could chain a primordial bloodline."
"Oh, is that what you call it?" Cassian chuckled, though a flicker of genuine unease crossed his eyes as the golden entity behind Revna took a slow, deliberate step forward, its massive claws clicking on the stone. Cassian quickly raised a hand, signaling his archers to draw their bowstrings tighter. "Let’s talk about that bloodline, Revna. Let’s talk about why your mother fled the eastern peaks twenty years ago. Let’s talk about the true reason the Kales hunted your family down to the last living soul."
Fenrik looked sharply at Revna, the confusion clear on his face. "Revna? What is he talking about?"
"He's talking about a fairy tale used to scare children," Revna said steadily, her voice echoing with absolute authority.
"Is it a fairy tale?" Cassian’s smile turned razor-sharp. He pulled a folded piece of yellowed parchment from his doublet and waved it casually in the air. "Strange. Because the sacred archives of the Kale family state otherwise. The golden wolf isn't just an ancient guardian, Fenrik. It’s a parasite. A seed of pure, unadulterated chaos that consumes the host from the inside out. Do you think you were cursed because of a simple spell?"
Cassian pointed a gloved finger directly at Fenrik's chest. "You were poisoned because the moment you mated with her, her golden blood began rewriting your DNA. The pack didn't reject her out of cruelty, Fenrik—they did it because I showed them the ledger. I proved to your elders that if she carried those twins to term, the sheer magical output would detonate the entire stronghold, killing every single wolf within a fifty-mile radius."
The words dropped into the room like heavy stones.
Fenrik froze. He looked from Cassian to Revna, his golden eyes wide with sudden, agonizing comprehension. "Revna... is that... is that true?"
Revna’s jaw tightened. She didn't look away, but the cold armor around her heart fractured just a little. "It is true that our blood is heavy, Fenrik. It is true that our lineage carries the weight of the old world." She took a step toward him, ignoring the archers. "But it is not a curse. It is power. And the Kales didn't try to stop it to save the pack—they wanted it for themselves."
Cassian’s smug facade slipped for a second, replaced by a flash of predatory greed. "Smart girl. Why let a god-killing power waste away in the snow when it can be harnessed? The twins in your belly, Revna... once they are born, their blood will be filtered into the Kale lineage. We will rule the entire north, immortal and unstoppable."
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Cassian lowered his hand, his grin returning with a vengeance. "So, you see, you can't win. If you fight us, the backlash kills Fenrik instantly. If you run, my trackers will hunt you to the ends of the earth. The only choice left... is to surrender quietly."
The archers took half a step forward, arrows notched and aimed directly at Revna’s chest.
