Chapter 7;The Claimant at the Gate

The war room fell into a suffocating, breathless silence. My pulse hammered so violently against my throat I thought the elders could hear it.

Reymond didn't hesitate. His hand closed around my wrist, his grip iron-tight but strangely careful not to bruise, and he pulled me firmly behind his broad back. We moved as one, striding out of the vaulted chamber and into the grand main hall that overlooked the courtyard. My stomach twisted into sharp, cold knots. I braced myself to look down and see my fathers brutal grey hounds tearing the iron gates off their hinges.

The heavy gates groaned open, scraping against the frozen cobblestones.

But it wasn't Mauris Walker.

A sleek convoy of black, heavy-duty vehicles rolled smoothly into the snow-covered courtyard. The men stepping out of the cars didn't wear the silver crown of my father's pack. They wore heavy grey coats tailored to military perfection, and on their shoulders sat the insignia of a coiled serpent.

It was the Tunner faction.

A tall man stepped out of the lead vehicle. Even from the top of the grand staircase, I could see the resemblance. He had the same broad shoulders and imposing height as Reymond, but that was where the similarities ended. Where Reymond was dark hair, harsh angles, and raw, violent power, this man was completely polished. His blonde hair was swept back flawlessly, his clothes perfectly pressed. He didn't look like a beast. He looked like a politician.

Aubert Tunner. Reymonds half-brother, and the man trying to strip the syndicate from his hands.

Aubert didn't glance at the dozen armed guards training their rifles on his chest. He calmly buttoned his coat, looked up at the grand hall, and let his eyes scan the staircase before locking directly onto me.

His lips curved into a slow, knowing smile that made the blood in my veins run completely cold.

"Stand down," Reymond commanded, his voice echoing across the courtyard like a crack of thunder.

The guards lowered their weapons, but their hands stayed near their holsters. Reymond let go of my wrist, taking a half-step forward so his body shielded me even more, his shoulders tense and radiating an aura of absolute murder. The dark cedar scent pouring off him was so thick I could practically taste it on my tongue.

Aubert walked up the stone steps at a leisurely pace, stopping just a few feet away from us.

"Brother," Aubert greeted, his voice smooth and entirely too loud, projecting for the elders who were now crowding the doorway behind us. "I must admit, I am impressed. I heard the alarms all the way from the valley. Youve had a busy night."

"You surrendered your weapons at my gate, Aubert," Reymond replied, his tone dead flat. "State your business, or I'll have my men throw you back into the snow."

Aubert chuckled, a dry, humourless sound. He completely ignored Reymonds threat and shifted his gaze back to me. His eyes were a pale, icy blue, and they tracked over my grey silk dress, resting for a fraction of a second on the gold ceremonial necklace at my throat.

"My business is the same as the council's," Aubert said lightly. "I came to offer my formal congratulations. Finding a Luna just days before the Solstice deadline is a miracle. Truly."

He took another step forward. The air between the two brothers instantly crackled with violent pressure.

"But I have to ask," Aubert continued, raising his voice so every elder in the hall could hear perfectly. "Does the council know exactly whose blood they are welcoming into the Smith Syndicate? Because I would recognize that scent anywhere."

Aubert stopped, crossing his arms over his chest, his eyes locked on mine.

"Hello, Natalia."

A collective, sharp gasp went up from the elders gathered behind us. The murmurs erupted instantly. Aubert didn't just know who I was, he was weaponizing my name.

"You have no right to this claim, Reymond," Aubert announced smoothly, turning to face the council. "The Walker bloodline has historically been tied to my political faction. If Mauris Walkers runaway heir has surfaced in our territory, she belongs under the jurisdiction of the Tunner council, not the Smith throne. You are harbouring a political fugitive to fake a mating bond."

The war room was going to tear itself apart. Aubert was publicly dismantling the very contract Reymond had used to trap me.

Aubert turned back to me. He stepped forward again, invading my personal space, his hand rising as if to touch a loose strand of my hair. "You look so much like her. It's a shame your father, "

He didn't finish the sentence.

Reymond moved faster than human eyes could track.

In a terrifying blur of black fabric, Reymond stepped directly between us. His massive hand shot out, catching Aubert by the throat. He didn't just push his brother back; he lifted him an inch off the stone floor, his claws sliding out and pricking the pale skin of Aubert's neck.

"Touch her," Reymond snarled, his voice dropping into a demonic, dual-toned growl that vibrated the stones under our feet. "Breathe on her. Look at her one more time, and I will rip your head off your shoulders right in front of the council."

Aubert choked slightly, but instead of showing fear, the polished smile returned to his face. He grabbed Reymonds wrist, entirely unbothered by the claws resting against his jugular.

Aubert looked past Reymond's shoulder, locking eyes with me, and wheezed a laugh.

"So," Aubert mocked softly. "That's the famous Luna who makes my brother forget how to behave."

Reymond threw him back. Aubert stumbled down a step, catching his balance and brushing off his tailored coat with a smug expression.

I stood frozen. I stared at Reymonds broad back as his chest heaved. I could feel the heat radiating off him. This wasn't a calculated political show. Reymond had completely lost control. The possessiveness rolling off him in suffocating waves wasn't an act to fool the elders. It was real. And it was terrifying.

"Get him out of my sight," Reymond barked to his guards. "Lock him in the guest wing. If he leaves his room, shoot him."

Reymond turned around, grabbing my hand, and dragged me away from the grand hall. We didn't go back to the war room. He bypassed the main staircase, pulling me down a narrow, torch-lit corridor that descended into the underground passages of the chateau. The deeper we went, the colder the air became, the damp stone walls echoing with our hurried footsteps.

He finally stopped in a shadowed alcove, letting go of my hand to run his fingers aggressively through his dark hair. He was pacing, his jaw clenched, the feral energy still buzzing beneath his skin.

I rubbed my wrist where he had held me. It didn't hurt, but the phantom heat of his touch was burning my skin.

"You lost your temper," I said, my voice shaking slightly in the dark corridor.

"He stepped too close to you," Reymond snapped, not looking at me.

"He was trying to provoke you, and it worked," I shot back, stepping into his path to force him to stop pacing. "He told the elders I'm a fake. He just gave them exactly what they needed to challenge you."

Reymond finally looked at me, his molten silver eyes flashing in the dim torchlight. "I don't care about the elders right now."

"You should!" I yelled, the frustration and fear boiling over. "This is your throne, Reymond! This was your plan! You forced me to sign that contract so you could use me as a shield, but you're ruining it. You can't just attack anyone who looks at me. You can't keep treating me like something you own!"

The silence that followed was deafening.

Reymond took a slow, deliberate step toward me. I held my ground, though my heart was hammering against my ribs. He stopped so close our chests were almost brushing. He looked down at me, the anger in his eyes shifting into something much darker, much heavier. It was the same look he gave me in the glass elevator. It was raw hunger.

"Then stop looking at me like you want me to," he answered, his voice dropping to a rough, vibrating whisper.

The words hit me like a physical strike.

My breath caught in my throat. I wanted to deny it. I wanted to scream at him that he was crazy, that I hated him. But the words completely died on my tongue. The lie wouldn't form. I stared up into his eyes, my chest rising and falling rapidly, feeling the undeniable, magnetic pull drawing me closer to the heat of his body.

We were both shaken. The truth was out in the open, hanging between us in the cold, damp air. I was terrified of him, yes. But I was also entirely captivated by the monster holding my leash.

Reymond swallowed hard, his eyes dropping to my lips for a fraction of a second before he violently pulled his gaze away. He stepped back, putting distance between us like I was a fire he was trying not to touch.

"Stay here," he ordered, his voice tight. He gestured to the two syndicate guards standing at the end of the passage. "They will escort you back to the tower. I have to deal with Aubert's men at the gates."

Before I could say another word, he turned and walked quickly back up the stone stairs, disappearing into the shadows.

I let out a shaky breath, leaning my back against the cold stone wall. My legs felt weak. I closed my eyes, trying to calm my racing heart, trying to figure out how I was going to survive this political nightmare when my own body was betraying me.

"He has a bad habit of leaving you alone in the dark, doesn't he?"

My eyes snapped open.

Aubert Tunner stepped out from behind a stone pillar just a few feet away. The two guards at the end of the hall were gone.

"Where are the guards?" I demanded, instantly backing away.

"Taking a very long nap," Aubert said smoothly, stepping into the dim light of the torch. He didn't look threatening. He looked entirely relaxed, which made him infinitely more dangerous. "I don't want to hurt you, Natalia. I actually came down here to help you."

"I don't need your help."

"Yes, you do," Aubert countered softly. "Because you think you know what game you're playing. You think my brother is just a brutal opportunist who got lucky when you walked into his lobby."

He stopped a few feet away, reaching into the inner pocket of his grey coat.

"Reymond told you he rescued you by accident, didn't he?" Aubert asked. "He told you he was just a rogue passing through the Walker estate the night your mother died."

"He was," I said fiercely. "He killed the hounds. He let me run."

Aubert shook his head slowly, a pitying look on his face. "He didn't stumble upon you, Natalia. He was there because he was looking for you. He was following orders."

My blood ran cold. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm saying my brother hasn't told you everything about the night the estate burned," Aubert said quietly. He pulled a folded piece of glossy paper from his pocket and held it out to me. "I think it's time you saw the truth."

My hands were shaking as I reached out and took the paper.

I unfolded it. It was an old, slightly singed photograph. The image was grainy, taken in the dead of night, illuminated by the bright orange glow of a massive fire.

It was the Walker Estate. It was completely engulfed in flames.

In the foreground, a much younger Reymond stood in the snow, his hands covered in blood. But he wasn't alone. He wasn't fighting.

He was standing shoulder-to-shoulder with someone else. They were looking at a set of blueprints spread across the hood of a car, having a quiet conversation while the manor burned to the ground behind them.

I stared at the other figure. The air completely left my lungs.

It was my mother.