Chapter 12 - THE WHISPER IN THE DARKNESS
Three days later, strange occurrences began to plague Castle Dunbarton.
The massive training grounds, usually echoing with the sharp clashing of steel and the shouts of northern warriors, grew unnaturally cold. Frost crawled up the thick stone pillars of the inner courtyard in intricate, thorn-like patterns that refused to melt even beneath the blazing afternoon sun.
Isolda stood on the high balcony, watching the mist roll in from the valleys. Her chest tightened suddenly, a sharp pang of dread shooting through her veins. It wasn't themate bond—that connection remained a warm, steady furnace deep within her soul. This was something colder. Ancient.
"Your Majesty," Commander Gideon’s voice echoed urgently as he burst through the heavy double doors of the solar. He looked pale, a rare sight for a veteran warrior who had stared death in the face a thousand times.
Isolda turned sharply. "Gideon? What is it?"
"The perimeter scouts at the western pass... they didn't return," Gideon reported, his breathing shallow. "We found their horses, but the men... the men are gone. And carved into the stone of the guard tower is an ancient Valoria crest. Not yours, My Queen. A rebel crest."
Isolda’s breath hitched. "The subterranean loyalists from the Obsidian Reach. They didn't wait to see if I was a threat—they’ve already made their move."
Before Gideon could respond, the castle windows rattled violently as a low, sonic shockwave reverberated through the mountains. It sounded like a subterranean beast roaring from the center of the earth.
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Cedric strode into the room, his armor fully strapped, his broadsword already resting heavily at his hip. His amber eyes glowed with lethal intent.
"They want a war for the throne," Cedric said, his voice dropping an octave into a dangerous growl. "We’ll give them a slaughter."
