Chapter 268
Elara’s POV
“Underbridge is bait. We bite on our terms.”
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Ilia crouched near the culvert, two fingers in the mud. “Tracks. Three sets. Light feet, heavy kit.”
“Dusk Wing holds,” I said. “No banners. No names.”
Vessa touched her throat mic bead. “Dawn is staged two turns back. We hit when you say hit.”
“Copy,” Ilia whispered. “Eyes up.”
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Water slid under the bridge in a thin rush. Noon heat pressed the reeds flat. My palm sat light on the hilt at my hip. Jace lay prone above us, still as bark, bow half drawn. Mira guarded the rear with two shields and a glare.
A boot scuffed. Another. Three shapes slid from the trees on the north bank, faces veiled, blades short. They checked the stones like they owned them. One knelt and set a satchel near the culvert mouth. Blue ribbon.
Vessa breathed, “Gift box.”
“Hold,” I said. “Ilia, lift the lid.”
Ilia nodded once. Slow hands. She eased the satchel open with a hook and stepped away. No flash. No smoke. Just paper. Schedules. Not ours. Fenreach drills. And a small glass vial. Dark liquid.
“Poison,” Ilia said. “Smells like bitter almond and rot.”
“Copy,” I said. “Jace.”
“Left is nervous,” he whispered. “Right is bored. Middle is the mind.”
“Take the mind,” I said.
The bow thrummed. The middle man fell without sound. The other two flinched and reached for horns. Ilia’s pair swept, silent and cruel. Two bodies kissed mud. Done.
Vessa clicked once. “Dawn moves.”
“Negative,” I said, “Bury the bait. We shadow the line back.”
Eden’s voice came from my bead. “Copy. Council wants your read before we pull prisoners.”
“Tell Cael we are done chasing crumbs,” I said. “We take the hand.”
A distant horn cried from the keep. One note. Not attack. Council call.
“Now,” Vessa said. “Why now.”
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Chapter 268
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“Because they want our eyes split,” I said. “Ilia, tag and trail whoever comes to pick up. Vessa, float two pairs back to the keep with me. Mira, lock the road.”
Mira thumped a shield once. “Locked.”
We moved. Light feet. Low talk. Sweat and iron in the noon air. When the wall rose through the trees, the second horn sounded. Then a shout. Then steel on stone.
Vessa’s eyes cut to mine. “Not a drill.”
Inside the west yard, three rogues were down, five alive, all roped. Cael stood over them with two guards and a clerk. He looked like a man who had measured the day and found it short.
“What changed,” I asked.
He held up a folded scrap with a blue thread. “Another note. Promised a trade. We traded irons instead.”
I took the scrap. Same hand. Same neat spite. “They want us busy.”
“Busy is fine,” Cael said. “Blind is not.”
The smallest prisoner laughed low. “You are already blind.”
I knelt. “Tell me something that keeps you breathing.”
He smiled with all his teeth. “You cannot keep what you cannot hold.”
“Boring,” Vessa said. “Try a new line.”
The clerk stepped forward with a ledger and a pin. “Names and marks, Gamma.”
“Record after we clean,” I said. “Strip them. Boots first. Knives next.”
A guard yanked a boot. A hiss. A spring. A needle flipped from the heel like a snake and nicked Cael across the wrist before anyone saw it.
He did not flinch. He looked at the mark. A thin red bead.
“Drop it,” I snapped. The guard froze. I grabbed Cael’s hand, squeezed hard to bleed it out, and put my mouth near his ear. “Do not be brave. Be smart.”
He tried to pull free. “I am fine.”
“Eden,” I called. “Kit. Now,”
Eden sprinted. I pressed my thumb above the nick to slow the flow. The prisoner smiled wider. “Too late.”
Vessa backhanded him. “Shut up.”
Eden slammed a case on the crate and flipped it open. Powder. Ties. A knife. I cut a cross on the skin and let the blood run, black–red and mean. The smell hit like old almonds. My stomach turned.
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Chapter 268
“Bitter oil,” Eden said. “Fast.”
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Cael’s eyes went glassy for a breath. He blinked hard and forced them clear. “Do not let the yard see this.”
“Too late,” I said. “Everyone out. Now.”
Guards moved. The clerk hesitated. Cael pointed. The clerk ran. The yard thinned to us, two medics, and the tied men.
“Keep him talking,” Eden said, mixing powder.
I looked at the smiling rogue. “Who sent the needle.”
He leaned back like a prince. “A friend who likes neat endings.”
I shoved his shoulder with my knee and took his air for a beat. “Who.”
He coughed and grinned. “The one with the ring.”
“Wrong room,” Vessa said. “Try again.”
Eden smeared paste on the cut. Cael’s jaw locked. Sweat beaded at his hairline.
“What is in it,” I asked.
“Seed oil,” Eden said. “Kills the will first. Then the breath. Then the heart.”
“Not today,” I said.
Cael tried to stand. I pushed him back. “No.”
He glared. “I am not-”
“Argue later,” I said. “Live first.”
He laughed once. It sounded like a cough. “Bossy.”
“Drink,” Eden said, pressing a cup into his hand. “Now.”
Cael drank. He closed his eyes. Opened them slow, “Gamma.”
“I am here,” I said,
“If I fall, you take the chair,” he said. “Do not wait. Do not ask.”
I swallowed hard. “You will not fall.”
He held my stare. “Say it back.”
“If you fall, I take the chair,” I said. “I will not wait.”
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He nodded once. “Good.”
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His fingers slipped from the cup. I caught it. His head tipped back against the crate. Eden worked without looking up. “We need heat and time.”
“Take both,” I said. “Vessa.”
She was already moving. “Inner room. Away from eyes.”
We shifted him fast into the stone room off the yard. The air was cool and close. Eden set a brazier burning and ground more paste. Cael’s breathing turned heavy, then shallow, then even again.
“Hold,” Eden said. “Give me ten.”
I stood in the doorway and watched the yard reset. Guards dragged the prisoners toward the block. The blue thread on the note tagged the wind and disappeared.
Thorne hit the threshold like a storm held on a leash. He took in the room, the brazier, Cael on the bench, the paste, my hands. His eyes cut to mine.
“What did they use,” he asked.
“Seed oil in a heel needle,” I said. “Smart and cheap.”
He nodded once. “Who saw.”
“Too many,” I said.
“Then fix it,” he said.
“I will.”
He stepped closer to Cael. His voice lowered. “Brother.”
Cael did not answer. Eden lifted a hand. “He hears you. Save your breath.”
Thorne looked at me again. “Chair.”
“Not yet,” I said.
“Now,” he said. “Before rumor gets there first.”
My bead clicked. Mira’s voice, tight. “Dusk to Gamma. Trail is hot. Three more at the culvert. One spoke the name Orik. We followed to the orchard road and lost the print in cart ruts.”
I closed my eyes for one beat. Opened them. “Hold shadow. Mark turnings. Do not chase alone.”
“Copy.”
Thorne waited. I shook my head once. “Not Orik. A message about Orik. They want me sloppy.”
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He did not argue. “Chair.”
:
Eden nodded without looking up. “Do it. He needs an hour.”
I hated the taste of that hour. I turned to the door. “Vessa.”
She appeared like I had called her from stone. “Say it.”
“Council,” I said. “Now.”
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The grand hall was already full. Word outruns feet. Officers lined the rails. Alphas stood in tight knots, faces stiff. The clerk fluttered near the dais with a pen that shook.
I walked to the high seat and stopped in front of it. The room went quiet. My heart did not pound. It just sat heavy and sure.
Garron scowled. “Where is Cael.”
“Breathing,” I said. “Working.”
Drevan’s voice was low. “Poison.”
“Controlled,” I said. “Contained.”
A ripple of fear started. Thorne stepped up to my right and put his palm on the table. “Silence.” It worked.
I faced the room. “Inside the zone of contact, Protocol outranks your captains. You signed it. Live it.”
A few faces soured. I did not care. I turned and put my hand on the arm of the high seat. The wood was smooth and warm from Cael’s weight.
“Gamma,” Garron said. “You cannot.”
I sat.
The sound that followed was not a chant at first. It was breath, then a murmur, then a hit of something old. The warriors on the floor started it. Then the rails picked it up.
“Luna Gamma,”
I did not smile. I did not bow. I lifted my hand once. The sound sharpened and settled into a single drumbeat
word.
“Orders,” Thorne said softly.
“Lock the gates,” I said. “Night Wing to the ring and stay dark. Dawn Wing to the orchard road. Dusk Wing keeps the shadow at Underbridge. No lone runs. No heroics. We pull the poison out of the line before dusk.”
Drevan asked, “And if the exiled press while Cael is down.”
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“Then they meet me,” I said.
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The clerk found his spine. “Record reads. Elara, Gamma of Blood Moon, assumes command of council and field until Alpha Cael returns to the hall.”
“Record the next line,” I said. “If anyone tries to test that line, I will break their hand.”
Pens scratched. Boots moved. The room turned from noise to purpose in a blink. Thorne leaned closer. “Say where you want me.”
“Left,” I said. “Always left.”
He nodded. “Always.”
Vessa jogged in at speed. “Eden says the pulse is steady. He wants a blood boil and a cold wrap in cycles.”
“Give him what he needs,” I said. “And put two she–wolves on the bronze room. If the ring lights, I want the finger with it.”
Vessa grinned like a knife. “Copy.”
“Move,” I said..
The hall emptied fast. I stood from the chair. The wood kept my heat like it would remember me. I did not look back at it. I turned for the door.
Thorne caught my sleeve. “Do not go alone.”
“Then walk,” I said.
He released the cloth. “Good.”
We crossed the threshold into the west corridor. A runner slid on his heels to avoid hitting us. “Message from Dusk,” he panted. “Ilia says the culvert watchers had a second vial in the roots. Marked for the inner well.”
Thorne stopped. “Water.”
I did not let the fear show. “Seal the wells. All of them. Pull from barrels only. Post eyes at every pump. Anyone opens a lid without a second witness goes to the dark.”
The runner nodded and bolted.
Thorne exhaled slow. “They wanted Cael down and the hall blind.”
“They get neither,” I said.
He looked at me like he was weighing the hour and the weight inside it. “You hold this.”
“I will,” I said.
A shadow moved at the far end. Eden, breath damp, hands stained dark. “He is holding,” he said. “You have
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Chapter 268
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until sunset to make the field quiet.”
“Then give me the field,” I said.
Eden stepped aside. “It is yours.”
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I walked. He matched me. The corridor opened to light and dust and the heavy beat of wolves running to orders that would hold. My voice did not shake when I lifted it.
“We cut the shadow first.”
Thorne said, “Name it.”
“The well house,” I said. “Then the orchard road. Then the culvert.”
“And then,” he asked.
“Then we go knock on the door she thinks we cannot see,” I said.
“Say when,” he said.
Now,” I said.
