Chapter 19: The Royal Proclamation

"Lock down the inner perimeter," Reymond commanded his security chief over his tactical ear set, his voice ringing off the ancient stone walls of the keep. "Seal the heavy iron gates. Nobody enters, nobody leaves."

"No," I said instantly, stepping straight into his path.

Reymond’s jaw tightened, his gold-flecked eyes snapping down to mine. "Natalia, Aubert's vanguard is already pushing up the mountain pass. He isn't coming here to negotiate."

"I spent seven years running from my past," I said, my chest heaving as the newly awakened power in my blood hummed under my skin. "I'm not spending another day hiding behind your walls while Aubert speaks in my name."

"You think walking out there will stop a siege?" Reymond’s voice dropped into a low, protective growl.

"No. But hiding in here gives him total control of the narrative. If the northern packs think I'm your hostage, they'll burn this mountain to 'rescue' me."

Before Reymond could answer, his ear set crackled with a sharp burst of static. His security commander's voice cut through the line: "Alpha, the intruder who opened the sub-level grid during the first breach, we caught him trying to slip through the eastern drainage line. He’s secured in the interrogation hold."

I looked at Reymond. "I want to question him."

"It's a war zone out there"

"He knows how they bypassed your security," I cut him off, my voice steady and uncompromising. "If we're going to stop Aubert's army, I want to know every card he played."

Reymond stared at me for a long, heavy second. Then, slowly, he gave a single nod. "Two minutes."

The security chamber beneath the keep smelled of cold sweat, damp concrete, and iron.

The prisoner, a scarred syndicate mercenary wearing an unmarked grey vest, sat bound to a heavy metal chair. He spat a mouthful of blood onto the floor as we stepped through the reinforced door, glaring at Reymond with defiant hatred. But when his eyes shifted to me, and caught the faint, shimmering silver light pulsing beneath the skin of my throat, his posture stiffened in sheer, involuntary terror.

"Speak," I commanded, stepping up to the metal table. The thunderous royal resonance in my voice made the mercenary flinch. "Who paid you to drop the grid?"

The man swallowed hard, his eyes darting frantically. "It... it was Aubert. Aubert Tunner."

"Why the royal chamber?" I demanded.

"Aubert needed you," the prisoner panted, his chest heaving. "He needed your awakened royal power to force the regional council's hand. He was going to use your blood to legitimize his claim to the northern territories. But he knew Reymond would tear the chateau apart to keep you, so he sent fake intel to your father's old loyalists to draw them into a crossfire."

My eyes narrowed. "He played both sides."

"He wanted everyone fighting in the valley," the man admitted, his voice cracking. "While you turned on each other, Aubert's main strike team was supposed to move on Reymond's political allies in Geneva."

"Give me his comm-pad," I said, turning to the guard by the door.

The guard hesitated, looking at Reymond. Reymond didn't flinch. "Give it to her."

I snatched the tactical tablet, my fingers flying across the cracked glass display. I pulled up the encrypted logs, bypassing the secondary firewalls using the royal override signatures I had memorized in the archives. A list of encrypted transmissions flooded the screen.

"Look at this," I said, holding the screen out to Reymond. "Aubert isn't working alone. He’s been coordinating with two of your disloyal pack leaders in the eastern valley."

Reymond’s eyes darkened as he scanned the names. He tapped his comms, transmitting the raw data files directly to his elite strike commanders. "Intercept those units before they reach the valley roads. Disarm them. Anyone who resists is a traitor to the syndicate."

For the first time since this nightmare began, I wasn't just a prize being dragged across a board. I had pulled Aubert's shadow war into the light.

A low, haunting horn echoed over the outer battlements.

High above us on the stone ramparts, dozens of syndicate marksmen trained their heavy rifles on the iron gates, their knuckles white on their stocks.

Reymond stood beside me in the snow, his broad frame a solid, imposing anchor against the biting Alpine wind. "Hold your fire," he ordered his men, his voice carrying effortlessly across the courtyard. "Nobody shoots unless my mark is given."

A syndicate scout burst through the side doors of the courtyard, stumbling into the snow.

"Alpha" the scout panted, gasping for air as he reached Reymond. "Aubert’s vanguard just struck the northern supply convoy. They’ve taken the ridge road"

Reymond’s face went entirely still. "How many?"

"Hundreds," the scout choked out, looking at me with wide, panicked eyes. "And Aubert just broadcast an open transmission to every pack in the northern territory."

I stepped back toward Reymond. "What did he say?"

The scout swallowed hard, his voice trembling in the freezing air. "He declared Alpha Reymond an illegitimate usurper. He announced that Princess Natalia is being held prisoner inside this fortress... and he is marching his army here to 'rescue' the royal heir and restore lawful leadership."

A heavy, suffocating silence dropped over the courtyard. The trap was brilliant. It was lethal.

If I stayed silent behind Reymond’s walls, Aubert’s lie would spread like wildfire, rallying neutral packs to his cause under the noble banner of "saving" the royal princess. If I publicly denounced Aubert and stood beside Reymond, the old royal families would brand me a traitor to my own bloodline.

Reymond said nothing. He stood beside me, his arms at his sides, leaving the entire future of his syndicate, his throne, and his life resting entirely in my hands.

I looked at the man who had bled for me, who was trusting me to take control of our fate. Then I looked toward the high battlements and the waiting camera relays.

I took a deep breath, feeling the ancient, electric power of the true Walker Luna roaring to life inside my chest.

I stepped straight toward the central dais of the courtyard.

"Prepare the royal proclamation," I commanded the waiting technicians on the battlements, my voice ringing out across the mountain like a silver bell.

I turned back to face the courtyard, my chin high, my royal scent, crisp ozone and crushed cinnamon, expanding into the freezing Alpine air.

"If Aubert wants to speak in my name," I said, my eyes blazing with pure silver fire, "then let him face me."

I stepped onto the platform, turning to face the wide-lens broadcast feed. Reymond flanked my shoulder like an unyielding shadow.

"To the pack elders and the northern territories," I spoke, my voice ringing out with the thunderous dual-resonance of the awakened Walker bloodline. "I am Natalia Walker. I am not a hostage. I signed the contract, I awakened the seal, and I stand with Reymond Smith by my own choice. Aubert Tunner is a liar and a traitor."

The broadcast cut through the airwaves, severing Aubert's political lie in thirty seconds flat.

Before the technicians could lower the transmission feed, a sharp, deafening CRACK echoed down from the high battlements directly above the courtyard entrance.

The gunshot ricocheted violently off the stone walls, scattering frost and snow into the wind.

Reymond’s arm shot out instantly, driving me behind his chest as his claws extended with a vicious snick. The guards on the battlements raised their rifles, shouting as chaos erupted along the upper terrace.

"Movement on the high parapet" a guard screamed.

I scrambled up the stone steps behind Reymond, my heart hammering against my ribs. We burst out onto the icy upper rampart just as the thick smoke from the high-Caliber round cleared into the freezing mist.

Down in the inner courtyard below, a heavy cloud of grey cordite drifted across the snow. On the edge of the shattered stone parapet stood my mother, a heavy sniper rifle clutched in her hands, her face an unreadable mask of ice as she stared down into the endless, fog-choked ravine.