Chapter 13 - The Council of Spies
Back in the grand war room of the Citadel, a massive map carved from polished white marble dominated the center of the chamber. Miniature silver markers represented the seven allied packs, the northern borders, and the royal domain.
Alistair sat near the hearth, wrapped in warm furs and drinking hot spiced tea, slowly recovering his strength while recounting decades of hidden court conspiracies.
"The northern packs are merely pawns," Alistair explained, pointing a shaky finger toward the western territories on the map. "The true power behind the assassination attempts and the Coven alliance is Grand Counselor Vane."
Eloin’s eyes widened. "Counselor Vane? He stood right beside us during the bloodline trial. He bowed to me!"
"A master of deception," Cassian snarled, his fist slamming onto the marble table hard enough to crack the stone. "He has managed the kingdom's internal affairs for over a century while secretly selling royal intelligence to the shadow covens."
"Where is he now?" Eloin demanded, her inner wolf surging with a cold, righteous fury.
"He left for the Eastern Peaks two days ago under the pretense of inspecting trade routes," Alistair answered. "But my sources always whispered that the Eastern Peaks house the forgotten temple—the birthplace of the dark rituals."
Cassian’s golden eyes flashed with lethal resolve. He turned to Eloin, his expression softening slightly, yet carrying an unshakable command. "We ride for the Eastern Peaks at dawn."
"I am coming with you," Eloin stated, leaving no room for argument. She stood tall, the silver symbols on her skin flaring with a soft, steady luminescence. "It is my bloodline they are trying to corrupt. It is my war to finish."
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Cassian looked at her for a long, silent moment, recognizing the fierce, unyielding sovereign she had become. A proud, fierce smile touched the corners of his lips.
"As you command, My Queen," Cassian replied, bowing his head slightly in deep, absolute respect.
