Chapter 6

The heavy oak doors of the lower hall slammed shut behind us, cutting off the sharp whispers of the crowd in the quadrangle.

I kept my head down, carrying the brass tray of wet linens to the washing station, but my skin still burned. The place where Aurelius’s thumb had wiped away my blood throbbed with a terrifying, lingering heat.

He’s hunting me, I thought, my knuckles turning white around the rim of the tray. They all are.

I managed to lose the Cold Prince in the subterranean corridors by ducking into the linen pantries, using the maze of servant tunnels to slip back to my tiny, windowless cell near the furnace rooms. But the relief didn't last ten minutes.

Before I could even wash the dried blood off my jaw, the brass herald-horns echoed through the stone rafters of the lower quarters. Three sharp, deafening blasts.

A mandatory summons.

"All domestic staff, unbonded hands, and lower-tier retainers to the Great Assembly Hall!" Master Grendel’s voice boomed down the corridor, reinforced by a low-grade horn spell. "By order of the Triad Alphas! Mandatory scent-screening! Move your pathetic feet, right now!"

My stomach plummeted straight into a sea of ice.

A scent-screening.

It was a protocol usually reserved for rogue incursions or silver-blade contraband searches. High-tier Alphas would stand at the head of the hall while silver incense burners and high-frequency scent-amplifying stones were paraded past the ranks. It forced every wolf's natural scent glands to open, stripping away basic concealment tricks and revealing an individual's true pack heritage, rank, and emotional state.

If I walked into that hall as I was, the wolf-bane salve currently on my pulse points, thinned out by my sweat and the heat of Aurelius’s touch, would fail instantly. The silver, ozone-sharp scent of my Moon-Gazer lineage would flood the room like a burst dam.

I locked my small wooden door, throwing the iron bolt into place with a trembling hand.

"Think, Sera," I whispered to myself, my breath coming in short, panicked gasps.

I scrambled to the loose stone slab beneath my straw cot. Lifting the heavy rock, I pulled out a small, leather-wrapped glass vial filled with a dark, thick paste.

Concentrated black wolf-bane.

It wasn't the diluted cosmetic cream used by unbonded servants to hide sweat or low-tier anxiety. This was pure, undiluted root paste extracted from the shadow-caves of the razor-crags, a volatile toxin. Applied directly to the skin, it didn't just mask an aura; it forcibly suffocated the wolf inside, paralyzing the scent glands through chemical shock.

The danger was lethal. If absorbed into the bloodstream in high quantities, it could cause organ failure, permanent neural damage, or completely destroy a wolf's ability to shift forever.

If I don't use it, they will execute me today. If I use it, I might die by midnight.

The choice wasn't a choice at all.

I pulled the glass stopper from the vial. The bitter, acrid stench of sulfur, ash, and dead flora filled the tiny room, making my eyes water instantly.

Without allowing myself to hesitate, I scooped out a generous dab of the thick black paste with my fingertips. I smeared it directly over the raw, inflamed cut on my cheek where Morrigan’s ring had cut me.

"Ah!"

A strangled scream caught in my throat.

It felt like pouring molten lead directly into an open wound. The black paste hissed against my skin, searing the fresh cut, and a sickening wave of agony shot straight up into my cheekbone and down into my jaw.

My vision spun out of control, dark black spots dancing across my sight. I slapped my hand over my mouth to smother my groan, my knees buckling as I slammed hard onto the cold stone floor.

Deep inside my chest, my Moon-Gazer wolf shrieked, a painful, muffled sound of pure agony as the black toxin seeped through my pores and clamped down on her throat like an iron vise. The silver flame beneath my ribs flickered violently, shrinking down to a microscopic, shivering spark.

I squeezed my eyes shut, tears of raw physical pain burning down my flushed face.

More, my desperate mind whispered. It has to cover the pulse points.

With trembling, numb fingers, I took another scoop of the burning paste and rubbed it directly behind my ears, over my collarbones, and under the edge of my heavy steel obedience collar.

The agony multiplied. My skin blistered instantly under the chemical heat. It felt as though someone had wrapped a chain of white-hot coals around my neck. My pulse hammered violently, trying to fight off the poison, but the sheer density of the black wolf-bane crushed my circulatory system's magic, forcing my blood pressure to drop into a deathly, lethargic slow-crawl.

My skin turned a sickly, ghostly grey. The vivid scarlet flush from earlier was entirely erased, replaced by the hollow, clammy pallor of a corpse.

"Sera!" Master Grendel slammed his fist against my wooden door from the outer hallway. "Get out here! The Triad is already on the dais! If I have to break this door down, I’ll skin you alive!"

I wiped the cold sweat from my forehead, my hands shaking so violently I could barely pull the glass stopper back into the vial. I shoved the bottle back under the stone slab, kicked the straw cot over it, and dragged myself to my feet.

My limbs felt like lead. Every breath tasted like ash and copper. But as I caught a glimpse of myself in the cracked mirror by the washbasin, I knew the poison had done its job.

My eyes were dull, lifeless, and sunken. My skin looked grey, dead, and rankless. The silver fire was completely buried beneath a thick layer of toxic sludge.

I opened the door, ducking my head as Grendel grabbed my shoulder and shoved me roughly down the corridor into the sea of uniform-clad domestic workers marching toward the Great Assembly Hall.

The Great Assembly Hall was a vast, subterranean cavern carved from dark obsidian. High overhead, iron chandeliers held hundreds of burning censers that poured thick, pale blue smoke into the air.

The smoke was infused with Moon-Salt and Silver-Dust, the primary agents used in scent-screenings. As the servants filed in, forming neat, nervous lines across the vast flagstone floor, the blue haze settled over us, making every low-tier wolf cough and rub their stinging eyes.

At the far end of the hall, raised high above the crowd on a dark marble dais, stood the Triad Alphas.

They looked like gods of judgment descending upon mortals.

In the center stood Aurelius Sterling-Cross. His broad frame was clad in full imperial armor, his golden eyes sweeping across the rows of servants with a terrifying, predator-level scrutiny. To his left stood Valerius Nightshade, his arms crossed over his leather-harnessed chest, his crimson eyes gleaming with a bored yet dangerous hunger. To the right stood Thaddeus Obsidian, holding a long parchment ledger, his silver-grey eyes scanning the crowd with quiet, methodical precision.

"Silence!" Master Grendel barked, stepping up to the foot of the dais. "Extend your left hands, pulse-side up! Keep your heads bowed as the screening stones pass!"

Four heavy-set Enforcers marched down the aisles, carrying iron tongs holding massive, glowing blue screening stones. When brought close to a person’s skin, these stones reacted to active wolf scent, flaring bright purple for high-tier Alphas, blue for Betas, and dull green for low-tier Omegas.

If a person carried concealed magic or a hidden bloodline, the stone would burst into a violent, blinding crimson.

I stood in the third row, keeping my chin tucked tight against my chest, my hands tucked inside my coarse grey sleeves.

The black wolf-bane poison was tearing my stomach apart. A cold sweat dripped constantly down my spine, and my heart beat at a sluggish, agonizing forty beats per minute. I had to focus every drop of my willpower just to stay standing, my knees trembling beneath my heavy wool skirt.

Just pass the stone. Just stay grey.

The Enforcer carrying the screening stone approached my row.

Step. Clank. Step. Clank.

He moved down the line. The stone glowed a faint, flickering green as it passed a scullery maid to my right. It flickered green again for an old stable hand to my left.

Then, the Enforcer stopped directly in front of me.

"Hand," the Enforcer grunted, his voice hollow behind his iron guard mask.

I slowly extended my left arm, turning my palm up to reveal my wrist. My skin was cold, clammy, and deathly pale. The black paste beneath my collar was invisible under the steel band, but the chemical heat was searing my throat alive.

The Enforcer lowered the heavy blue stone to within an inch of my pulse point.

I held my breath. Deep inside my chest, my poisoned Moon-Gazer wolf whimpered, pulling herself into a tight, desperate ball to hide from the stone’s ambient magic.

The blue stone hovered over my skin.

For a second, nothing happened. The stone remained a dull, lifeless grey, reflecting no aura, no power, and no rank.

"Unbonded," the Enforcer muttered, preparing to move to the next person. "Rankless stray."

"Hold."

The single word cut through the heavy smoke in the hall like a steel cable snapping under tension.

The Enforcer froze instantly, holding the stone in place.

High on the marble dais, Aurelius leaned over the carved stone balustrade. His golden eyes were locked onto my position in the third row, his dark brows pulled into a harsh, suspicious V.

The entire hall went dead quiet. Hundreds of servants held their breath, wondering why the Cold Prince had just halted the screening for a common domestic.

Aurelius didn't say another word. He stepped off the raised dais, his heavy combat boots echoing with slow, menacing precision against the obsidian floor as he descended into the crowd.

Valerius watched him with a sharp, curious smirk, resting his hand on the hilt of his trench-blade. Thaddeus didn't smile; his silver-grey eyes narrowed slightly, tracking Aurelius’s path, then flicking down to my pale, shivering form.

The crowd of servants parted instantly, scrambling backward to give the Prince a wide berth.

Aurelius stopped right in front of me, his massive, towering presence blotting out the light from the blue censers overhead. The biting, freezing cold of his aura rolled off him in crushing waves, slamming into my already weakened, poisoned body.

"Raise your head, servant," Aurelius commanded, his voice a low, vibrating growl.

I forced myself to obey, slowly lifting my chin. I kept my eyes dull, glossy, and unfocused, playing the part of a sick, dying unbonded stray.

Aurelius stared down at me. His golden eyes raked over my pale face, lingering on the scabbed cut on my cheek, then dropping to the steel obedience collar around my throat.

He didn't smell dark amber and rain. He didn't smell liquid silver or high-tier aura.

All he smelled was the bitter, nauseating stench of sulfur, ash, and dead flora, the heavy smell of a servant who worked near the furnace rooms and carried low-grade cleaning salves.

His jaw tightened in deep, dangerous frustration.

He reached out, his long fingers grabbing the iron tongs from the Enforcer's hand. Aurelius took the glowing blue screening stone himself and shoved it directly against my bare wrist, pressing the cold rock firmly against my skin.

The stone stayed grey. Dead, lifeless, rankless grey.

Aurelius’s breath hitched slightly. His golden eyes flared with a mix of utter disbelief and deep, brooding suspicion. He knew what he had felt in the dark arena last night. He knew what Valerius had felt in the hallway this morning. His predator instincts were screaming that the female standing in front of him was an anomaly, a hidden, dangerous power.

Yet the ancient screening stone, which had never lied in three centuries of pack rule, showed absolute zero.

"Your skin is cold," Aurelius growled, his thumb brushing against my pulse point as he held the stone down. His touch was icy, sending a shiver through my poisoned veins, but my skin didn't burn. It couldn't. The black wolf-bane had paralyzed my thermal response entirely. "Where is the heat from this morning?"

"I... I am sick, My Lord," I whispered, my voice sounding weak, raspy, and genuinely dying. "I have the cellar-rot. Master Grendel gave me sulfur paste for the fever..."

Aurelius leaned down, his face inches from mine, his sharp golden eyes searching my glossy, unfocused pupils for a single slip, a single crack in the mask.

"If I find out you are using alchemy to fool these stones, Sera," he whispered, his dark voice vibrating against my lips, "I will personally tear your throat open to see what color your blood is."

"I am... just a servant, My Lord," I choked out, a thin trickle of black, poisoned sweat sliding down my pale temple.

Aurelius stared at me for five agonizing seconds. The tension in the hall was so dense it felt as if a single spark would set the air on fire.

Finally, with a look of pure, icy disdain, Aurelius pulled the stone away and threw the iron tongs back to the Enforcer.

"Pass her," Aurelius ordered coldly, turning his back on me. "She is nothing but a sickly hound."

He strode back toward the marble dais, his cloak sweeping behind him.

The Enforcer moved on to the next row, and the heavy weight of Aurelius’s gaze finally shifted away.

I let out a slow, agonizing breath, my hands shaking violently inside my sleeves.

I had passed the check. I had survived the screening stone.

But as I looked up at the dais one last time, my fading vision caught Thaddeus Obsidian standing at the railing.

He wasn't looking at the screening stone, nor was he looking at Aurelius. Thaddeus was looking directly at the small, black trickle of poisoned sweat running down my neck, his silver-grey eyes glowing with a dark, terrifying realization.

He knew I was poisoned. And he knew exactly why I had done it.

My knees finally gave out, and I barely caught myself against the stone pillar as the blue smoke swallowed the hall.