Chapter 7 - INTO THE ENEMY'S LAIR
The ride south was brutal. A freezing rain mixed with snow whipped against their faces as Gideon, Adelaide, and the Shadow-Guard moved through the treacherous Iron Wolf Valley under the cover of pitch-black darkness.
Adelaide rode behind Gideon on his massive warhorse, her arms wrapped tightly around his thick waist. His body radiated an incredible, comforting heat that kept the biting frost at bay. Every time the horse jolted, Gideon’s hand reached back to steady her, his touch sending ripples of reassurance through the bond.
By midnight of the second day, the jagged, terrifying stone towers of Crestfall appeared through the mist. Perched on a high cliff overlooking a roaring river, the fortress looked like a giant stone monster.
Torches flickered along the ramparts, but as predicted, the guards were lax. Bastion had received Eamon’s forged raven. Believing the Alpha King of the North was currently vomiting blood and dying in Winterborne, the Southern lords were celebrating in the main hall. Laughter and drunk song echoed faintly over the stone walls.
"The water drain," Adelaide whispered, pointing toward a narrow, iron-barred archway near the base of the rocky cliff face, just above the crashing river. "It leads directly beneath the lower dungeons where they keep high-value prisoners."
Gideon nodded to Varick. With silent, terrifying precision, two Northern warriors slid into the freezing water, using heavy iron shears to cut through the rusted grates.
One by one, the strike force slipped inside the dark, dripping stone belly of Crestfall.
The smell of mold, damp earth, and blood filled the narrow tunnel. Adelaide’s heart pounded against her chest like a trapped bird. Memories of being locked in these very corridors sent a wave of panic through her, but then Gideon’s hand enveloped hers.
He didn't say a word, but his golden eyes burned bright in the dark, sending a clear message: I am here. No one will ever hurt you again.
They moved like ghosts through the subterranean passages until they reached the heavy oak door of the central dungeon block. Two Southern guards were sitting at a table, dicing and drinking ale.
Before they could even raise an alarm, Gideon was upon them. In two swift, silent movements, both guards were unconscious on the floor.
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Adelaide rushed past them, scanning the dark, filthy iron cells. "Clara!" she called out in a desperate, hushed whisper. "Clara, are you here?!"
From the very end of the damp hallway, a tiny, sobbing voice squeaked out: "Addie...?"
