THAL
63 Chapter 63
63 Chapter 63
Betrayed by Blood
The door swung open with a loud creak, and a guard stepped in, his face pale and his breathing labored.
“Your Majesty,” he said, addressing the queen but sparing a brief glance at Avery. “There’s trouble.”
“Rogues have breached the northern perimeter,” He announced, his voice tight with tension. “The Alpha is leading the defense, but the situation is escalating fast.
Avery felt the blood drain from her face. Rogues? Here? The words echoed in her mind as fear gripped her chest. Images of the last rogue attack she experienced flashed through her mind, and she began to tremble.
“And the rest of the pack?” the queen asked.
“Everyone is advised to stay in their quarters. We have been ordered to evacuate you and the king to safety. King Alaric is already in safety, and now we need to guard you safely too,” the guard said just as the door opened again, another guard poking his face into the room.
“Your Majesty,” he said with a bow, then looked at them and looked at the guard in the room. “We’ve set up a station here in the meantime. Is there anything else?”
“No, step out and allocate all the guards now. No one comes in or out,” he said gruffly. The queen glanced at Avery, her eyes filled with worry. “You should leave, Avery,” she said firmly. “Return to the servants‘ quarters and stay there until this is over.”
Avery nodded weakly, her legs feeling like lead as she took a step back. She stepped out of the room and made her way down the hall. The pack was in chaos; it was funny how it all went left in less than a second. Just minutes ago, she was out here with Cain, and now she was navigating her way back to the servant quarters for safety.
“Rogues in the west wing!” a voice barked nearby. “Protect the borders!”
Avery’s heart pounded hard in her chest; she pressed her hand against her chest as
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she tried to regulate her breathing. Everything was happening too fast.
Avery forced herself to move, taking slow, shaky steps toward the servant quarters. It was wild how rogues would attack the pack this way. Avery shook her head; she knew rogues were getting brave, but to bypass all the warriors and attack the west wing? That was insane. She took a shaky breath as she looked left and right, about to jump to the other side of the wall when she heard the voice.
“Avery!” a voice called out behind her sharply.
Avery froze, her heart leaped in fear. She turned slowly, clearly startled, only to see a young warrior she vaguely recognized. His face was pale and stressed. A flicker of relief crossed his eyes.
“Thank the goddess. Where have you been? I’ve been searching for you!” he rushed out as he walked towards her.
Avery’s eyebrows furrowed, “What do you mean-” she didn’t get to finish her words.
“You need to come Alpha sent me to get you.
with me,” he said, grabbing her arm. “The You need to be in a safe space until this is over,” he said.
Her heart skipped a beat. “Alpha Cain sent you?” she asked, her voice trembling.
“Yes,” he said smoothly, his eyes darting back and forth. “The rogues are pushing harder than expected, and he wants you moved to a secure location.”
Avery hesitated a bit, “Where is he? Alpha Cain, I mean. Where is he? Is he safe?” she rushed out, remembering the last time she’d seen him was with Leah, who came to call him for some trouble. This rogue situation had to have been the trouble.
“Already handling the rogues at the eastern border,” the warrior said briskly, “Come on, we don’t have time. We need to hurry.”
Avery looked around one last time; everyone was already safely secured in their homes. It was only right she does the same too, especially since Cain ordered it, so she nodded, allowing herself to be led away.
Xander paced the narrow cell, the iron bars cold beneath his palms as he gripped them tightly. The sounds of chaos echoed faintly through the dungeon. The yelling, hurried footsteps, and the clash of weapons. His nerves were shooting up the roof with every
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passing second.
“What’s going on?” he yelled, his voice hoarse. He glared at the nearest guard rushing past his cell. “Answer me!”
The guard ignored him, his face set grimly as he disappeared up the staircase. Another guard soon followed, none of them bothering to answer any of his questions.
“Damn it!” Xander slammed his fist against the bars. Panic clawed at him as his thoughts spiraled. Was the pack under attack? Was Avery safe? Was Lydia safe? The uncertainty was driving him mad.
The commotion grew louder, then quieter again, until there was nothing but silence.
Xander’s heart raced when he heard the faint sound of footsteps rushing through the stairs. He pressed himself against the bars, trying to see who was coming. “About time
someone came to-”
The words died on his lips when a figure emerged from the shadows. The person was cloaked in black, a mask covering their face, a blade glinting in their hand.
Xander’s blood turned cold ice. “Who are you?” he demanded, his voice shaking e
with how he tried to steady it.
The figure didn’t answer. Instead, they moved forward, their blade flashing in the dim light. The guards stationed in the dungeon barely had time to react before the masked figure struck. One by one, they fell, their bodies falling to the ground in pools of their blood.
Xander staggered back, his back hitting the cold wall of his cell. He watched in horror as the last guard let out a gurgled cry and collapsed.
The n
masked figure turned toward him, blood dripping from their blade. Xander’s breath hitched as their gaze locked onto his.
“Stay back!” he shouted, his voice cracking. He pressed himself further into the wall, his legs trembling. “I–I’m warning you! I’ll kill you if you try anything! I might have one hand, but I can damn use it well.”
The figure ignored his threats and stepped closer, Xander’s pulse thundered in his ears as he raised his fist, prepared to fight.
When the figure reached the bars of his cell, Xander flinched, expecting the blade to
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strike dead just like the guards. Instead, the figure covered their blade and reached for the lock on his cell.
“What–what are you doing?” Xander stammered, his eyes wide with fear.
The cell door creaked open, and before Xander could react, the figure lunged forward and grabbed his wrist.
“No–don’t touch me!” Xander yelled, struggling against their grip.
The figure pulled him out of the cell, their strength undeniable. Xander stumbled, his knees weak. “Who are you?” he whispered, his voice barely audible.
The figure paused for a moment, tilting their head as if considering whether to answer. Then, in a low voice, they murmured, “Your only chance at freedom.” 1
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