Chapter 8 - The Betrayal Exposed
Everything happened in a fraction of a second.
Governor Vance lunged across the wide oak table, his face twisted into a mask of frenzied desperation, the poisoned silver dagger gleaming sharply under the chandelier lights as it aimed straight for Iris's chest.
Before Iris could even blink, four massive shadows moved in unison.
Kam intercepted Vance mid-air, slamming the traitor down onto the stone floor with bone-crushing force. The dagger clattered uselessly away across the tiles. Oren pinned Vance’s arms behind his back with brutal efficiency, while Kaelen stepped over them, his heavy iron chains dragging heavily as he loomed like an executioner.
Vance choked, blood pooling in his mouth as Oren's knee pressed mercilessly into his spine.
"You... you fools..." Vance wheezed, laughing hysterically against the floor. "You think I'm the head of the syndicate? I'm just a messenger! The Obsidian Syndicate spans every border, every council, every king's court! You can't kill us all!"
Fenrir stepped forward slowly, his boots clicking rhythmically against the stone. He looked down at the writhing traitor with absolute, chilling contempt.
"I don't need to kill every rat in the nest," Fenrir said coldly. "I only need to cut off the head."
Fenrir raised his hand, and two elite royal guards stepped forward, hauling Vance up by his arms and dragging him bodily out of the hall toward the dungeon cells.
The council room remained dead silent, the regional governors too terrified to even breathe under the overwhelming collective rage of the four Alphas.
Fenrir turned slowly back toward Iris, his golden eyes softening instantly as he saw her standing tall, composed, and completely unharmed. He walked over, gently taking her trembling hands in his.
"Are you alright?" he asked softly, his voice a stark contrast to the terrifying warlord who had just condemned a traitor.
"I'm fine," Iris whispered, offering him a small, brave smile. "Thanks to all of you."
Kam, Oren, and Kaelen stepped up beside Fenrir, their protective ares wrapping around Iris like a warm, impenetrable shield.
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"The syndicate knows their cover is blown," Oren noted, crossing his arms over his scarred chest. "They'll make a desperate move for the Frostpeak vault now. They won't wait for a trap."
Fenrir nodded grimly. "Which means we march for Frostpeak tonight."
