Chapter 31: Boss Lady

The voice cracked through the dark like a whip. A guard stepped out from the side corridor, spear already lowered, blocking the way completely. The tip glinted in the torchlight.

“Identify yourself or get diced in half right now!”

I had the veil pulled low over my face. It made it hard to see clearly in the dim light, and apparently it made it hard for him to recognize me too. Good. I straightened up, letting the bag hang at my side like it was nothing.

"Kill the Lycan King's mate?" I asked, my voice dropping into an eerily calm, melodic tone. "Kill Riven's wife in the middle of his own fortress? Oh, man. You seem to have a rather creative death wish upon yourself. And upon your entire bloodline." 

The guard’s eyes went wide. His spear wavered. He took a half-step back, then another, the weapon drooping.

"My... my Queen," the guard stammered, his voice cracking with absolute panic. He bowed his head so low his chin practically touched his chest. He was physically shaking. "Please... please spare my life. I did not know it was you in the dark. I swear it, I do not want to die."

I didn't move. I kept my posture rigid, staring down at the massive, lethal soldier currently cowering at my feet. The power dynamic was intoxicating, but I forced the adrenaline down.

"But..." the guard swallowed hard, his voice dropping to a terrified, desperate whisper. "But the King himself commanded it. He ordered that you must be watched at all costs. The guards were instructed not to allow you to leave the residential packhouse unescorted. Please, my Queen... if he finds out I let you pass, he will kill me."

I smiled and stepped closer, slow and deliberate. I reached out and placed one finger under his jaw, tilting his face up gently. His skin was clammy under my touch.

"Oh, poor thing," I cooed softly, my thumb gently caressing his jawline the way one might pet a frightened dog. "The King said that, did he? Well, didn't the King also give a lot of absolute commands to his Beta?"

The guard's eyes widened in sheer horror.

"Need I remind you," I whispered, my voice dripping with toxic sweetness, "exactly what the King did to his own Beta in the training courtyard for simply 'doing his job' and trying to enforce the rules?"

The guard stopped breathing. The memory of the Beta's snapped neck was fresh in the minds of every soldier in the Empire.

"Now," I said, slowly pulling my hand back and standing up straight. "Surely you will not stand in the way of a Queen going to feed her starving baby? Hmm? Because if I have to go back to that bed right now and wake my mate to tell him a Vanguard soldier denied me access to my son... well. I imagine he won't be very understanding."

I let the threat hang in the freezing air.

The guard swallowed hard. His eyes darted around like he was looking for an escape that didn’t exist. Then he scrambled backward, bowing so low his forehead nearly touched the floor.

“Yes— yes, my Queen. Of course. Forgive me. Please… go. Go feed your son.”

He moved aside so fast he almost tripped over his own feet. I walked past him without another word, pushing through the main gate and out into the night air toward the quarters where Maren stayed.

The cold hit me immediately, biting at my cheeks and slipping under the collar of my cloak. I pulled it tighter around myself and kept moving, steps quick and quiet across the stone path. My bag felt heavier now, or maybe that was just the weight of what I was doing settling in. This was it. No turning back. Mael was close. Once I had him, we’d slip into the trees and keep going until the packhouse was nothing but a bad memory.

The mahogany door at the end of the short hallway glowed with warm lamplight on either side. I stopped in front of it, heart pounding again, and knocked softly.

“Who’s there?” Maren’s voice came through, cautious.

"It's me," I hissed, leaning my face close to the door. "Liora. Open up!"

I heard the heavy slide of an iron deadbolt. A second later, the mahogany door flung open, spilling a rush of warm, fire-heated air out into the freezing hallway.

Maren stood in the doorway, dressed in a simple grey nightgown. In the crook of her arm, wrapped tightly in a thick, cream-colored blanket, she was gently rocking Mael. My baby was sound asleep, completely oblivious to the chaos surrounding his existence.

My heart leapt into my throat. My son.

I took a step forward to grab him, but Maren didn't step back to let me in. Instead, she stood firmly in the doorway.

Her sharp, steel-grey eyes dropped from my face, scanning my heavy, snow-dusted cloak, the thick winter boots, and the worn leather rucksack slung tightly over my shoulder.

Maren’s eyes narrowed into dangerous, calculating slits.

"Liora?" the old healer asked, her voice dropping into a low, deadly serious whisper. "Where exactly do you think you are going?"