Chapter 8
1806words
Leicester's fingers closed around my wrist. "We can't go out there. The king's using her to draw us into the open—to trap all three of us at once."
Through the window, I glimpsed torchlight swaying in the darkness. The king's men had encircled the estate.
I touched the wooden box hidden against my chest, its edges digging into my skin. This covenant was the key to unraveling centuries of lies.
"Let's return to the study and examine the hidden compartment. Only with the original Alliance Pact can we earn Elder Tok and Lady Victoria's complete trust."
Leicester nodded, guiding me toward the stairs. His footsteps remained whisper-soft—a vampire trait that allowed perfect composure even in crisis.
In the study, candle flames danced in the draft as Leicester worked his Silver Dagger into the wooden box's hidden seam.
A yellowed parchment slid free with a papery whisper. Despite faded ink, the alliance symbol remained clear: a werewolf bearing a bone staff stood beside a vampire holding blood jade, the ancient king's wax seal pressed beneath them.
Beside it lay a small porcelain vial containing blackened liquid—identical to the poison Leicester had described contaminating the werewolf water source three years ago. Even the smell matched.
"Elder Tok is nearly at the Sacred Grove." Leicester carefully folded the parchment into my pocket, then pressed a fragment of jade into my palm. "I sent our people with this message. This token is recognized by wolf tribe elders—proof our intentions are genuine."
I clutched the cool jade fragment, remembering how Elder Tok had shielded me from Grey with his own body. "How many came with him? Is the wolf tribe stable?"
"Just a few trusted elders and survivors from the poisoning. He's kept the tribe calm by framing it as 'investigating the truth about the poison.' No chaos yet."
Mid-conversation, I suddenly remembered Lucas's sister. "Lily's still in the dungeon! She witnessed the king's men poisoning the water—she could testify!"
Leicester produced a silver token bearing the Valerian crest. "I've already sent handmaidens to retrieve her. They grew up in the palace and know every passage. The dungeon's lightly guarded—they should manage."
I took the token, its cool metal steadying my nerves. Our most pressing task now was reaching the Sacred Grove to meet with the elders of both clans.
In the Sacred Grove, icicles hung from pine branches like crystal daggers, moonlight refracting through them in ghostly blue patterns.
At the center of the stone platform, blood moon engravings remained sharp and clear—remnants of the Alliance Pact from three centuries past, now the key to exposing generations of royal deceit.
Upon arrival, we found Elder Tok circling the platform, leaning heavily on his cane. Fresh blood stained his shoulder, his expression grimmer than ever.
"Isabella." Elder Tok struck his cane against stone when he spotted us. "It's not that I doubt you. But my tribe has lost too many—to poisoned water, to vampire conflicts. Without solid proof, I cannot sway them."
I reached for the parchment when hoofbeats approached, accompanied by the crunch of wheels on snow—Lady Victoria's arrival.
Her carriage halted at the forest's edge. The curtain lifted to reveal her cradling a wooden box, several vampire nobles following behind. Among them stood Lily, protected by a maid, tears still glistening on her cheeks.
The moment Lily spotted Elder Tok, she broke free and ran to him, clutching a cloth bundle. "Elder! The king's men did it! I saw them pouring black liquid into our water source! I even saved one of the bottles!"
She unwrapped the bundle to reveal a small glass vial. Black residue clung to its inner walls—identical to the poison in our porcelain bottle.
Lady Victoria approached, placing her wooden box on the stone platform. "I've brought a decade's worth of Blood Curse medical records, plus fragments of the wine vessel used to poison Leicester. All evidence of the king's treachery."
Just then, chains rattled from beyond the trees—a harsh, metallic scraping.
The king rode at the front on a midnight stallion. Behind him, guards dragged Lucas in chains. Though his wrists were raw and bleeding, Lucas held his head high, eyes locked defiantly on us.
Seraphina stood flanked by guards, her red dress caked with mud and snow, her hair wild. Spotting Grey bound to a tree, she suddenly shrieked: "Grey! The king is lying to you! After killing the vampires, he plans to send all werewolves to die in the border trenches! I heard him say it!"
Grey wrenched free from his captors, his pointed ears rigid with tension, yellow eyes blazing as he faced the king. "Your Majesty, is this true? The plague three years ago, the border 'accidents' last year—all your doing?"
The king sneered, raising his ruby scepter. Its crimson glow pulsed hypnotically. "You'd believe a hysterical woman? Grey, pledge loyalty now, and the governorship remains yours. Your wolf-kind will prosper under your command."
"Liar!" Lily darted forward, thrusting her vial toward the assembly. "Here's proof! It matches the poison bottles your guards carry! My brother stole your secret orders too!"
Lucas seized the moment, shoving aside his guard and lunging toward the platform. A parchment fluttered from his grasp. "Look! The king's orders to his border general: 'When both tribes are wounded and weakened, burn the Sacred Grove and slaughter any survivors!'"
The king's face darkened to thunder. He slashed his hand through the air. "Kill them all! Leave no witnesses!"
Torches flared to life. Soldiers poured from the forest, spears leveled. The Sacred Grove blazed crimson, thick with bloodlust.
"Wolf tribe, stand your ground!" Elder Tok roared, jabbing his cane toward the soldiers. "We won't be deceived again!"
Elder werewolves raised their bone staffs high. Younger pack members transformed halfway to beast form, claws extending long enough to shred bark as they charged the advancing soldiers.
Lady Victoria called to her vampires: "Release the Moonflower mist! Let them face the ghosts of their own making!"
Vampires pulled pouches from their belts, releasing pale green mist among the soldiers. Men began to thrash and scream—some crying "Ghosts!" while others collapsed weeping. The hallucinogenic mist conjured dead relatives for some, abyssal horrors for others.
Leicester yanked me behind a tree, his eyes never leaving the king, watching for any escape attempt.
Grey suddenly darted behind the king's mount. Half-transformed, he slammed into the horse's legs. The stallion reared, throwing the king to the ground.
"You owe the Wolf Clan blood! Today you pay!" Grey's claws ripped through the king's cloak, leaving deep gashes in their wake.
Lucas scrambled onto the platform, snatching up the fallen letter and thrusting it toward an elder werewolf. "See for yourselves! This is the king's true face! He never saw any of us as human!"
I leapt onto the platform beside him, unfurling our ancient parchment. "Behold the Alliance Pact from three centuries past! The king's ancestors swore both clans would guard the abyss together, never raising arms against each other! He rewrote history, cast Blood Curses, poisoned our water—all to make us destroy each other!"
Lady Victoria opened her wooden box, displaying medical records one by one. "House Valerian has lost over thirty members in the past decade—all to the king's Blood Curse! The burn on Leicester's chest is proof of this royal treachery!"
A sob rose from the crowd—an elderly werewolf with silver-streaked fur held up a tattered waterskin. "My son died from poisoned water! I blamed vampires all these years—hated them with every breath! But I've been hating the wrong enemy!"
A vampire noble raised a pendant, voice breaking: "My sister journeyed to deliver medicine to the borderlands. The king's men killed her, then placed this werewolf token on her body to frame them for her murder!"
Angry shouts swelled. Werewolves hurled curses at the king while vampires wept for lost loved ones.
Several soldiers threw down their weapons. "We're common folk too! If he'll slaughter werewolves today, who's to say we're not next? We won't fight for this!"
The king trembled with fury, raising his scepter to strike the defectors. "Treason! This is treason!"
Leicester lunged forward, pressing his Silver Dagger against the king's throat. "Don't move," he said, voice like winter frost. "One twitch and your neck gets a new smile."
Grey stalked forward, wrenched the ruby scepter from the king's grasp, and smashed it against the stone platform. It split with a sharp crack, the ruby exploding into crimson shards.
Seraphina huddled on the ground, arms wrapped around her knees. "I was wrong," she sobbed. "Wrong to chase after Grey, wrong to think a werewolf could give me glory, wrong to help the king deceive everyone…"
Lily approached, offering a clean handkerchief. "It's good you see your mistakes now. From today, we'll protect our people together. Don't let anyone deceive you again."
The fighting slowly died away. The Sacred Grove grew quiet, broken only by soft weeping and the whisper of wind through pine boughs.
Lady Victoria emptied the black liquid from our porcelain vial into a bowl, then added white powder from a wooden box. "Sacred bone ash from the wolf tribe, preserved since the original Alliance. Leicester, add your blood—it will break the curse."
Leicester bit his fingertip. Bright crimson drops fell into the bowl. The black liquid lightened to ruby, releasing wisps of steam.
"Drink," Lady Victoria said, offering him the bowl. "The burn will fade."
Leicester drained the bowl in one swallow. Almost immediately, the angry burn on his chest began to fade from dark red to pale pink.
Elder Tok offered a bowl of potent wolf tribe liquor, touching it to Leicester's empty vessel. "I was blind to trust the king's lies. From this day forward, as the Alliance Pact declares, our peoples guard the abyss together—as allies, not enemies."
Moonlight filtered through pine branches, bathing the ancient parchment in silver light, making the ink seem to glow from within.
Members of both clans began to mingle—vampires applying healing salves to wounded werewolves, werewolves sharing their roasted meat with vampires. Centuries of hatred dissolved like morning mist.
I watched Leicester speaking with Elder Tok, the eternal coldness gone from his features. In that moment, I understood that old grievances no longer mattered. This reconciliation honored my mother's memory, Lucas's sacrifice, and all those who had died in this senseless conflict.
A gentle breeze stirred through the Sacred Grove, making the ancient parchment flutter as if whispering that three centuries of hatred had finally found peace.
The abyss still threatened us, its dark mists potentially rising any day. But everything had changed now.
We were no longer werewolves and vampires divided by hatred, but allies standing shoulder to shoulder—partners who could trust each other with their lives.
