Chapter 3 - THE SHADOW IN THE WOODS
Two miles down the winding mountain path, the snow crunched beneath frantic, stumbling boots.
Coulter Woods could barely breathe. His lungs burned with the freezing mountain air, and his vision swam as he plunged blindly through the deep drifts of the pine forest. Fear was a cold hand gripping his throat. He had seen the royal banners. He had seen the dead king alive, standing in a remote cabin with a backwoods healer wrapped in his arms.
The bounty, Coulter thought, a manic grin stretching across his greasy face despite his exhaustion. The rebel bounty for confirming the Alpha King's death was a fortune. But proof that he lives—proof that he can be reached through a weak, isolated human woman—is worth a kingdom.
He reached into the pocket of his heavy coat, his gloved fingers wrapping around the heavy silver coin stamped with the rebel crest.
Crack.
Coulter froze. The sound of a dry branch snapping echoed sharply through the silent pines just a few yards ahead.
"Who's there?" Coulter stammered, pulling a small hunting dagger from his belt and holding it out with a shaking hand. "Stay back! I'm an officer of Lord Fairfax!"
From the shadows of a massive snow-laden spruce, a tall figure stepped out into the moonlight. The stranger wore a dark, fur-lined cloak pulled low over his forehead, completely concealing his face in shadow. Two other figures materialized silently behind Coulter, blocking any chance of retreat.
"An officer," a low, melodic voice echoed from beneath the hood. It was smooth, devoid of warmth, like ice sliding over stone. "Or a terrified rat running from a sinking ship?"
Coulter swallowed hard, trying to steady his voice. "I know something. Information about... about the Alpha King. He survived. He's hiding in the mountains."
The cloaked leader tilted his head slightly. A pale, scarred hand reached out, holding a small leather pouch that jingled softly with heavy silver coins. "We are well aware of the King's survival, tax collector. What we require is a weakness. A way to draw him out from his fortress of loyal guards."
Coulter’s greedy eyes locked onto the coin pouch. "The healer," he babbled eagerly. "Her name is Gertrude Wright. He cares for her. He looked at her the way a beast looks at its chosen mate. Take her, and the Alpha King will walk straight into any trap you set."
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A slow, deadly smile curved beneath the stranger's hood.
"A human healer," the rebel leader whispered, the gold coin catching the moonlight as he tossed it casually into the air and caught it. "How poetic. Let the King have his little romance for a few more days. When the time is right, we will pluck his precious flower, and watch the mighty Alpha burn."
