Chapter 9
1002words
"Spare me," he pleaded, voice quavering as his fingertips found the cold brass whistle hidden in his boot. "I'll lift the Blood Curse, grant werewolves autonomy… anything you desire, I can provide."
Leicester's crimson eyes narrowed, tracking the king's subtle movements. "Save your performance, Your Majesty," he said, voice glacial. "You've spilled enough vampire blood and claimed enough werewolf lives."
Before he finished speaking, a high-pitched whistle cut through the night—a frequency only royal guards could hear. Instantly, armor clanked at the Grove's edge as dozens of black-robed guards stormed in, silver spears gleaming in the moonlight. Their eyes, visible through iron masks, were cold as winter stone.
"Kill them all!" Orden broke free from his loosened chains—a contingency he'd prepared in advance. "These non-humans are the root of all calamity! Purge the Sacred Grove!"
Elder Tovak slammed his cane into the snow, sending up a white spray. "Fools! He sacrifices his own people—do you think you'll be spared?" The guards ignored him. A silver spear pierced a young werewolf's shoulder, drawing an agonized howl.
Leicester yanked me behind a pine tree, his crimson cloak sweeping across snow. "Blood Clan! Deploy fog formation! Add silver powder to the mist—now!" His voice rang with authority—not just a nobleman's, but a leader commanding his people. Vampire guards moved like living shadows, releasing Moonflower-infused mist from leather pouches. The royal guards inhaled and doubled over coughing, their spears wavering.
Lucas, arm still bandaged, grabbed a nearby werewolf's shoulder. "With me! I know their tactics—the left flank looks open but it's a trap!" His time in the royal guard had taught him their formations, knowledge that now became his deadliest weapon. Several werewolves followed his lead, their claws gleaming in the moonlight as they silently circled behind the enemy.
I crouched beside the wounded werewolf and opened my medicine box. Sprinkling ground Silver Leaf over his wound immediately eased the burning pain from the silver weapon. "Thank you, Lady Isabella," he whispered. I pressed a packet of hemostatic powder into his hand before dashing toward the fog formation. Leicester's plan needed one final element.
"Add this!" I tossed a pouch of Rosemary to a vampire guard. "It'll distort their vision—make them see enemies in the trees!" Once mixed into the mist, the Rosemary worked its magic. Royal guards staggered about, slashing wildly at pine trunks and shadows.
One guard broke through the fog. He tore off his iron mask, eyes locked on my palm where the covenant ring glowed softly. "The Covenant Guardian! Kill her and their alliance shatters!" He hurled his silver spear straight at my heart.
"Isabella!" Leicester lunged between us, shielding me with his body. The spear punched through his cloak and into his shoulder blade with a sickening hiss of silver burning flesh. He bit back a cry as crimson blood dripped from his cloak onto virgin snow, blooming into dark roses.
Searing heat exploded in my palm. The Symbiotic Contract—my ring—blazed like molten gold. I felt Leicester's pain and weakness flood through me, but stronger still was the force binding our souls together.
"Never again will I let you suffer," I whispered, clutching his hand. Light erupted from my contract ring, striking the royal guard and shattering the silver spear in Leicester's back. The guard stumbled backward, coughing blood.
"This covenant…" Leicester stared at my palm, voice filled with wonder. "It doesn't just share pain—it shares power."
A scream sliced through the chaos. Seraphina, her red dress torn in several places, struggled as Grey dragged her toward the Grove's exit. "Let me go! You promised we'd escape together!" Gone was her haughty pride—only desperate terror remained.
Grey's yellow eyes blazed with fury. "Together? You're nothing but dead weight! The king's men will slaughter us all—you'll make a perfect shield!" He tightened his grip on her wrist. Suddenly, Seraphina lunged forward, sinking her teeth into his arm—teeth she'd filed to points to mimic werewolves now tore through his flesh.
"Bitch!" Grey roared. His free hand shot to her throat, claws sinking into soft flesh. Seraphina's face purpled as her legs kicked uselessly, strength fading with each heartbeat.
With one savage squeeze, Grey crushed her windpipe. Her body went limp. He stared at his bloodied hand for two stunned heartbeats before bolting into the forest, never glancing back at the corpse he'd created.
Lucas spotted Grey's escape and moved to pursue, but Tovak caught his arm. "The guards first! Grey won't get far—we'll settle that score later."
Just before dawn, the last royal guard fell. King Orden was bound again—this time with silver chains that dampened his magic. Tovak knelt beside Leicester, pressing a pouch of wolfsbane ash to his wound. "This heals silver injuries. For… the sake of our new trust."
As Leicester opened his mouth to respond, Lucas pulled a parchment from the king's boot. "What's this?" The unfolded paper revealed a palace dungeon map with scrawled words: "Keep the prince to control both races." The king had another royal hostage—another card to play.
I gripped the parchment, dread settling in my stomach. "This isn't over. He has allies in the palace, and Grey's still out there."
Leicester gripped my shoulders, his gaze steady. "Then we go to the palace. Expose his schemes and hunt down Grey." Tovak nodded, tapping his cane against frozen earth. "The Wolf Clan stands with you. Allies share burdens."
Snow in the Sacred Grove had begun to melt as morning light filtered through pine boughs. Vampires and werewolves gathered their supplies while Lucas carried Seraphina's body to a tree, laying her gently in a shallow grave of snow.
