Shadows At The Gate

Chapter 6: Shadows at the Gate

Nadia's POV

The cell felt like a tomb. Stone walls, icy air; sometimes I couldn’t feel my own fingers. Droplets dripped from the ceiling, each one loud enough to stretch out the silence, poking at my nerves like a slow, dull knife. I huddled in the corner, knees tucked up, eyes glued to the iron bars blocking any hope of escape.

My arms still throbbed where the guards twisted them back, but those bruises? Nothing compared to the sick emptiness clawing at my chest.

Funny. My whole life, I chased stories about this canyon. Back in our mountain cave, huddled with Grandma through endless winters, I’d listen to her talk about the Blackbloods, our people, like they were legends. She made them seem so proud, so unstoppable. “You carry their magic, Nadia,” she’d say, her voice gentle but strong. “You belong with them. They’ll keep you safe.”

It was a lie, or maybe just a wish. I laughed, sharp and bitter, way too loud for this miserable cell.

Turns out, these people didn’t want me at all. The way they stared, calculating, hard, felt just like the guards back in the lower town. Here, I wasn’t an heir or a sister. I was a curse, something dangerous they’d rather toss aside. A problem. 

I dug into my tunic, fingers finding the familiar shape of my father’s journal. I slid it loose enough to touch the faded silver crest. Dad, I made it, I thought, rubbing my thumb into the spine. I finally made it to the canyon. Guess there’s no home waiting for us after all.

The earth shuddered out of nowhere, a sharp, metallic vibration racing up through the soles of my boots. For a second, I stopped breathing. Fine dust sifted down from the ceiling in little clouds. Somewhere deep in the mountain, the big gates moaned, and the noise of guards scrambling above started to thicken- shouts, boots hammering on stone.

"WAR HORNS ON THE NORTH RIDGE! THE CITADEL VANGUARD IS AT THE GATE!"

Guards yelled in a panic, shields clattered, and someone was screaming orders. 

I stood up, stiff, shoving the journal back into my clothes. My heart hammered so hard it hurt.

He was here. The Lycan King. He had chased my scent through wild country, straight to this canyon. The same king who hunted my family for years. He stood just outside, close enough for his madness to bleed through the stones.

I didn’t shrink away. I gripped the bars like I could tear them apart, jaw locked. If my own clan wanted to feed me to the wolves, fine. They’d better be ready to bleed, because I wasn’t going down without a fight.

Lyra's POV

The gates were monsters, forty feet high, sunk right into jet-black cliffs. Rain misted down, soaking my armour, but I felt nothing except the beast inside me, clawing, restless, wild. My pulse pounded in my throat.

She was here. I could smell her, even through the stink of wet rock and rot. Pine and earth, old copper, pureblood, dazzling, impossible to miss. The scent dragged at me, yanking me toward those gates.

Valerius reined in next to me, eyes flicking from the walls to the ramparts. “Sire. They’ve set up defensive wards and stacked fifty guards along the ledges. If we break through, it’s war with the western remnants.”

I didn’t blink. “So let it be war,” I said.

He tried to nudge me back. “The Council, sire. If Corinna hears you burned down a protected clan’s gate for one Blackblood fugitive, they’ll use it against you. They’ll convene an assembly.”

I couldn’t care less. My grip tightened on the reins until the leather screamed. “Corinna and her games don’t run this empire. I do.”

I edged my horse closer, right up to the invisible boundary; magic in the grass made my skin tingle.

“Elder Aaron!” I called up, voice slicing through the rain. The men on the wall flinched.

Aaron came out, tall and grey-bearded, guarded by his soldiers. The man tried to sound formal, but his hands shook on the stone. “Your Majesty! We honour the king’s peace! We paid our tributes. Your army has no cause to be here.”

“You’re hiding a fugitive,” I said, staring straight at him. “The one who spilt blood in my district three days ago.”

He hesitated, looking over his shoulder. “She crossed our border without permission, sire. She’s already in our dungeon. Ancient law demands her execution—”

Execute her.

That word slammed into me. I didn’t wait for Valerius. I let power tear through the courtyard—cold, crushing, unstoppable. The temperature dropped; my horse reared, spooked. Loose stones rattled down the cliffs. Two of Aaron’s men collapsed, gasping as the alpha pressure crashed over them.

“You won’t lay a finger on her,” I snarled, voice guttural, twisted with my beast’s fury.

Aaron nearly dropped to his knees, terror stamped across his face.

“Open the gates,” I said, drawing my broadsword, letting the steel sing. “Or I’ll raze this canyon to

 the ground, and bury every last one of you before sunset.”