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Author: Divine Ink
last update Last Updated: 2025-02-03 15:08:08

5

Kaelion

The scent of fear clung to the walls of the council room like smoke after a fire. It was thick, heavy, and satisfying. I sat at the head of the long wooden table, fingers steepled under my chin, as my pack members fidgeted in their seats, eyes darting to one another like nervous prey.

None of them dared meet my gaze. Good. They were learning.

"Explain," I growled, my voice low but deadly enough to make even the most seasoned warriors flinch.

My Beta, Jareth, swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. "During the… incident with Seraphina, Alpha, there was an escape attempt from one of the prisoners we captured in the last raid."

I arched a brow, leaning back in my chair, fingers steepled. "And how, exactly, did that happen?"

No one spoke. The silence stretched on until it became unbearable. Finally, Elliot, one of the pack members, cleared his throat.

"The guards were distracted, Alpha. They underestimated the prisoners’ desperation."

I chuckled darkly. "Distracted? That’s the excuse you’re bringing to my table?" My voice dropped to a whisper, but it held more venom than a snake’s bite. "One incompetent fool tries to run, and you’re telling me distraction is the cause?"

Jareth shifted uncomfortably, his gaze finally meeting mine, though he immediately regretted it. I saw the flicker of fear in his eyes—the realization that I was far less forgiving than most.

The heavy oak doors creaked open, and Dax, my gamma, stepped in, his expression tight. Even he wasn’t immune to the weight of my presence. I could see it in the stiffness of his shoulders, the way his jaw clenched just a little too hard.

“They’re ready,” he murmured, his voice low but steady.

I gave a curt nod. “Bring them in.”

A moment later, two warriors dragged the prisoner into the room, his face bloodied, his shirt torn. He was from the Silverclaw Pack—the last group of fools who’d thought they could resist me. His wrists were bound, and though his legs wobbled, he tried to stand tall. Defiant.

I almost admired that. Almost.

I leaned back in my chair, letting the silence stretch until it was suffocating. The prisoner’s breath came in ragged gasps, but he said nothing. Brave.

“You tried to run,” I finally said, my voice a low rumble that echoed in the stillness.

The man spat at my feet.

A murmur rippled through the room, but I didn’t flinch. I simply stared at him, letting the seconds drag on, letting him feel the inevitable. His defiance would die long before his body did.

“You know the punishment for that,” I continued, my tone flat, emotionless. “And yet, you still tried.”

He lifted his chin. “Better to die free than live under your rule.”

A slow, humorless smile spread across my face. “You’re about to find out how wrong you are.”

Without breaking eye contact, I turned to Dax. “Execute him.”

Dax hesitated for a fraction of a second, and that was enough. My gaze snapped to him, cold and sharp. His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, then he nodded, grabbing the prisoner by the collar and dragging him out.

The door slammed shut behind them, and the room remained silent, the only sound the faint echoes of footsteps and, moments later, a muffled scream that quickly cut off.

I turned my attention back to the rest of the room. The guards shifted uncomfortably in their seats, their eyes fixed on the table. They knew what was coming.

“Since one of you failed to keep an eye on the prisoners,” I said, my voice like ice, “you’ll all share in the consequences.”

A collective shudder rippled through the room.

“Six months at the border,” I continued. “Effective immediately.”

One of the younger guards, barely out of his teens, opened his mouth to protest, but a single glare from me had him snapping it shut, his face paling.

“Anyone else have something to say?” I asked, my tone deceptively calm.

Silence.

Good.

I stood, the chair scraping against the floor, and the entire room seemed to exhale in unison, as if my very presence had been pressing down on them.

“Dismissed.”

They scrambled out of the room like rats fleeing a sinking ship, and I watched them go with a sense of detached satisfaction. Fear was a better motivator than loyalty any day.

Just as I was about to leave, Dax returned, his face grim.

Dax lingered at the doorway, his jaw tight, shoulders squared like he was bracing for a storm. I was already annoyed by his presence. If he had more bad news, he better spit it out fast before my patience wore thin.

“What now?” I asked, annoyed.

He hesitated, which immediately set my teeth on edge.

“Well?” I snapped, my voice cutting through the thick tension like a blade.

“It’s Seraphina,” he finally muttered, eyes flicking to the ground. “She… she tried to escape.”

I let out a low chuckle, the sound echoing off the cold stone walls. “Of course, she did.” I leaned back in my chair, my fingers drumming rhythmically against the wooden armrest. “She’s nothing if not predictable.”

Dax shifted, clearly expecting a stronger reaction. But why would I give him the satisfaction? I had anticipated this the moment I told the guards to ease up around her at the hospital. Let her think she had a chance. Let her believe we were stupid enough to let our guard down.

“She took the bait, then?” I asked lazily, arching a brow.

Dax nodded stiffly. “The guards followed your orders. They acted relaxed, pretended like they weren’t watching. The moment she thought the coast was clear, she made her move.”

I sighed, the disappointment settling in like a bitter taste on my tongue. I had hoped—just hoped—that she might surprise me. But no, Seraphina was as predictable as the sunrise.

Dax was still standing there, fidgeting like he had more to say. His silence grated on my nerves.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “What now, Dax? Spit it out. I don’t have all day.”

He hesitated, and that hesitation made my blood boil. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper. “She’s heading south… toward rogue territory.”

My fingers froze mid-drum. Rogue territory.

I had planned to let her run, let her taste a bit of false freedom before I reeled her back in. But rogue territory? That was a different beast altogether. Those savages wouldn’t just rough her up—they’d tear her apart, piece by piece, and I wasn’t about to let them do what I hadn’t finished yet.

I shot out of my chair, the legs screeching against the stone floor as I stood. Dax flinched, but I was already moving past hi

m, my mind shifting gears.

“Get the car ready,” I ordered, my voice a low growl. “We’re leaving now.”

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