Cracks In The Wall

Chapter 37

Derek stood by the high window in his study, the candlelight casting long shadows across the room. The flicker of the flame seemed to mirror the fury simmering just beneath his skin. His fists were clenched, one pressed against the wooden frame as he stared out into the darkness of the courtyard. He had hardly spoken since Kieran's interrogation hours earlier, but silence didn’t mean peace.

He turned sharply when the knock came.

"Enter."

One of the guards stepped in, eyes averted, hand to his chest. "My Lord, Kieran has been secured. Awaiting your further instruction."

Derek didn't reply at first. He inhaled deeply, then released a slow breath that trembled with restraint.

"Bring him out again. Now."

The guard hesitated just a moment. Derek caught it.

"Is there a problem?"

"No, my Lord. Right away."

Derek moved to the center of the room, arms crossed tightly over his chest. When the door opened again some minutes later, Kieran was dragged in, his hands shackled behind his back. There was dried blood on the side of his face and a cut across his cheek, but his eyes held no regret. In fact, there was something infuriatingly calm in them. Almost amused.

"On your knees," the guard barked, forcing Kieran down.

Derek stepped forward, his boots echoing off the stone floor with every slow, deliberate step. He stopped just in front of him.

"You know why you're here again."

Kieran lifted his chin. "I imagine it's because you can't sleep."

Derek's jaw twitched. "You admitted your guilt, Kieran. You said you're involved. But now you're going to tell me who else is. Names. Faces. How deep this betrayal goes."

Kieran smiled. A thin, mocking thing. "And if I don't? You’ll kill me? Torture me? Does that make you feel like a man, Derek?"

Derek said nothing. He crouched down so they were eye-level.

"If you don’t talk, I will find every last person involved on my own. And when I do, their blood will be on your hands."

Kieran leaned forward slightly. "You already lost, Derek. That’s the part you don’t understand. You’re chasing shadows while the fire burns beneath your feet. It’s already begun."

Derek grabbed him by the collar, yanking him forward so violently the guard moved closer on instinct.

"Who else, Kieran?!"

But Kieran only laughed. Not loudly, not wildly—but just enough to drive the blade deeper. A quiet, cruel sound.

"Too late," he whispered. "You're already surrounded."

Derek shoved him back, the chains clanking as Kieran fell to the floor.

"Take him back. Lock him up. At dawn, we break him."

"My Lord?"

"You heard me. Tomorrow, we find out how loyal he really is. If he wants to bleed for them, then so be it."

The guards hauled Kieran to his feet. He didn’t resist. As he was dragged out, he looked back over his shoulder.

"Enjoy what little time you have left. The walls are already cracking."

The door slammed shut behind him.

---

Alone again, Derek turned to the hearth and threw the nearest book against the wall. It struck with a thud, pages scattering like ash. His chest rose and fell in shallow bursts, his thoughts spiraling.

How long had Kieran been plotting? How many others were there? Servants? Guards? People he trusted?

He began to pace.

Kieran’s words weren’t just defiance. They were layered with truth. The kind of truth only someone too far gone would dare whisper aloud.

Derek ran a hand through his hairs, eyes scanning the journal he'd laid open hours ago. Notes. Inconsistencies. Names. He’d been building a web, but now the strands were burning before his eyes. What if they were closer than he thought?

He paused at the sound of faint footsteps.

One of the younger guards appeared in the doorway, clearly nervous.

"My Lord... there is something you should know."

Derek turned, voice sharp. "What is it?"

The wolf stepped in, holding a folded parchment. His hands trembled as he passed it over. "One of the servants said she saw a guard pass a scroll to someone in the stables. She didn’t recognize either of them."

Derek unfolded the note and scanned its contents. Symbols. Coordinates. A message cloaked in code, but clear enough to those who knew how to read it.

His heart sank.

It wasn't just Kieran.

This went deeper.

---

The dungeon was damp, the torches flickering against the stone. The air was thick, humid, laced with the scent of mildew and rust. Chains rattled in the distance as Kieran was shoved back into his cell.

He didn’t flinch as the door slammed. He only smiled to himself.

He leaned back against the wall, letting his head rest there.

"He’s angry," Kieran muttered under his breath. "Good. The more unbalanced he becomes, the easier the fall."

The guard outside heard none of it. Or if he did, he didn’t care.

---

Back upstairs, Derek had summoned his closest captains. They stood in a semi-circle around the study, some frowning, others grim.

"From now on, no one moves without my order. I want guards reassigned. Switch their positions. Rotate them every six hours."

"What about the council, my Lord?"

Derek turned toward the captain who spoke.

"They’ll stay unaware. For now. If word spreads that there’s a traitor in the keep, we lose the upper hand."

"And Kieran?"

"At dawn, we start. He talks, or he dies."

A heavy silence settled in the room.

They knew what that meant. Torture wasn’t a practice Derek endorsed lightly, but betrayal changed the rules. This wasn’t just disobedience.

This was treason.

---

Later that night, Derek stood outside in the courtyard, his cloak drawn tight against the wind. He stared up at the moon, its cold light making the walls seem taller, the night darker.

Kieran's laughter still echoed in his mind.

"You're already surrounded."

How much truth lived in those words? How many shadows walked his halls?

His thoughts drifted to Diva, who had gone to her chambers hours earlier without a word. She'd seen the look on his face. She knew something was changing in him.

Not love.

But fury.

Fury, and a sense of unraveling.

He turned and walked back into the keep, each step echoing like a war drum.

Tomorrow would bring answers.

Or blood.