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Chapter 7 - Whispers in the Snow

The midnight wind howled through the high stone archways of Northvale Castle, driving a blizzard against the leaded glass windows. Inside the dimly lit corridors of the lower west wing, shadows danced long and distorted in the flickering torchlight.

A figure clad in dark, soundless leather slipped past a heavy velvet tapestry, moving with the practiced ease of a trained assassin. It was one of Lord Vane’s elite mercenaries, sent to finish what the high council’s political machinations had failed to achieve: securing the Omega maid or eliminating her leverage.

The mercenary crept silently down the stone hallway toward the old service quarters where the maid and her sister had previously lived, believing the targets were still vulnerable in the lower tier.

He didn't know he was walking directly into a trap.

At the end of the corridor, standing motionless in the shadows beside a massive stone pillar, was Captain Gideon Shaw, flanked by four elite royal guards.

As the intruder reached for the latch of the empty servant door, Gideon raised his hand. "Now."

In a blur of motion, the royal guards closed in from both sides, weapons drawn and ready. The mercenary whipped around, drawing a poisoned stiletto from his belt, but before he could strike, a heavy armored gauntlet slammed into his wrist, sending the blade clattering across the marble floor.

Within seconds, the intruder was pinned hard against the stone wall, his arms twisted behind his back.

"Don't bother struggling," Gideon said coldly, stepping forward with a dark scowl. "You walked right into our perimeter."

A few moments later, King Rowan and Quinn stepped out from a side alcove. Quinn wore a thick woolen cloak over her gray dress, her posture straight, her eyes fierce and clear.

Rowan looked down at the captured mercenary with chilling detachment. "Tell Lord Vane his little games are over. Who gave you the order to target the east wing?"

The mercenary spat a glob of blood onto the floor, flashing a defiant, jagged grin. "You think stopping me matters, King? Lord Vane already has what he needs. The archivist’s journals are out of the castle, and the high council is turning against you. Your throne is rotting from the inside out."

Quinn stepped closer, her voice shockingly calm. "Where is Lord Vane meeting his conspirators?"

The mercenary laughed harshly. "You think an Omega maid can frighten me? You're nothing—"

Before he could finish, Rowan stepped forward, an overwhelming, suffocating wave of alpha dominance crashing over the hallway. The sheer weight of the king’s presence forced the mercenary to his knees, his breath catching in his throat as primal terror paralyzed his nervous system.

"Answer her," Rowan commanded, his voice vibrating with lethal authority.

"The... the abandoned hunting lodge," the mercenary choked out, gasping for air. "Three miles north of the outer wall. Master Vane is meeting with... with Councilor Marisel Vance tonight."

Gideon immediately pressed his heavy gauntlet harder against the captive's shoulder, rendering him unconscious with a swift, calculated strike. He looked up at Rowan. "Sire, if Marisel Vance is openly conspiring with Vane, it’s high treason. We can arrest her right now."

"No," Quinn interjected firmly, shaking her head. "If we arrest her now, they'll deny everything, and their faction in the council will claim the crown is acting out of paranoia."

Rowan looked at her, a faint, approving smile touching the corners of his mouth. "She's right. We need irrefutable proof. Public evidence that exposes the entire conspiracy before the entire northern lords."

"Then we go to the hunting lodge," Quinn declared, her hand resting instinctively where the hilt of the Wolf King’s Sword rested in the grand hall. "Tonight."

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Rowan hesitated for only a fraction of a second, weighing the immense danger against the fierce, unyielding determination shining in her eyes. He nodded slowly.

"Gideon, secure the inner keep and ensure Lydia remains safely guarded under triple watch," Rowan ordered, turning back to Quinn. "You and I are going for a ride."

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