Venom in the Ranks

The medical bay fell into a silence.

The low beeping of the life monitors sounded like a ticking bomb against the sterile white tiles. Gideon’s grip on my elbow tightened, his fingers digging into my arm as his amber eyes flared with a lethal, primal gold.

"The Capital?" Gideon’s voice dropped into a register so dark the glass vials on the counter vibrated. "The High Council wouldn't deploy a targeted bio-weapon on our border without an insider to distribute it."

"They didn't need an insider on the border," Elder Vane said quietly, holding the vial of black fluid up to the harsh fluorescent lights. "The Silverfang supply chains were routed through Capital contractors for six months before Silas marched on High Ridge Lodge. Anyone who ingested their combat rations, their healing salves, or their suppressants was made  with a dormant synthetic stuff. The moment Lyra activated her royal voice at the Blood Vault...the frequency triggered the toxin," I finished, the blood draining from my face.

My breath came short as I looked at the young guard thrashing on the steel gurney. "It was a dead man's switch. Silas didn't even know he was carrying it."

Before Vane could answer, the emergency lights flickered plunging the white room into a dim, blood red glow.

A sharp, muffled gunshot echoed from the corridor outside, followed immediately by the heavy thud of two bodies hitting the floor.

Gideon didn't hesitate. In a single motion, he drew his heavy tactical sidearm from his shoulder holster, stepping smoothly in front of me to block the double glass doors with his broad frame. His Alpha aura expanded instantly, filling the small isolation bay with a crushing, suffocating weight.

"Vane, get behind the desk," Gideon commanded, his voice cold and level. "Lyra, stay back."

"Not a chance, Sterling," I growled softly.

I reached down to my thighs, my long silk sleeves riding up as I unsheathed my twin silver daggers. The metal caught the pulsing red emergency lights, throwing long, lethal reflections across the tiled walls.

The double doors smashed open.

A figure clad in the white, sterile bio hazard suit of the Citadel's medical team stepped into the room. But he wasn't holding a scalpel. In his gloved hands was a suppressed military submachine gun, his dark visor reflecting Gideon’s weapon.

He raised the barrel straight toward the gurney aiming to finish off the poisoned guard before he could be questioned.

Gideon fired twice.

The heavy rounds shattered the assassin's shoulder armor, knocking him back against the doorframe. But instead of falling, the assassin let out a wet screech a sound that was entirely too deep and raspy for a human throat. He lunged forward with speed, dropping his gun and drawing a serrated combat blade lined with the same dark, purplish fluid.

"He's expanded" Gideon barked.

Gideon stepped into the assassin's path, swinging the heavy butt of his handgun squarely across the intruder's visor. The glass shattered, revealing dark, black veined skin and eyes that were completely swallowed by solid, vacant red light.

The drove his blade toward Gideon's exposed throat.

I didn't wait for Gideon to dodge. I dropped  low crouch, sliding across the slick, blood stained tiles right beneath Gideon’s guard.

I drove my right silver dagger straight up into the assassin's armpit, slicing through his joint, while my left blade swept around, severing the tendons behind his knee.

The assassin collapsed onto his face with a heavy crash.

Before he could push himself back up, Gideon put  his heavy combat boot on the center of the man's spine, pinning him to the floor. Gideon reached down, grabbed the assassin by his dark hair, and slammed his face into the tile, shattering his jaw.

"Who sent you?" Gideon roared, his Alpha voice slapping the walls like thunder.

The assassin spat a mouthful of black  blood onto the white floor, his broken jaw twisting into a sickening grin.

"The... Council... remembers," the assassin rasped, his voice bubbling with black fluid. "Marcus... left... the door... open..."

My stomach dropped into a bottomless pit. "Marcus?"

The assassin let out a sharp gasp as his body went completely rigid. The black veins across his neck violently bulged, then burst beneath his skin, pouring thick, foul smelling smoke into the air. His eyes rolled back, his heart stopping instantly as the internal toxin devoured his remaining organs.

Silence returned to the room, broken only by the heavy panting of the young guard on the gurney.

Gideon stared down at the dead assassin, his jaw clenched so tight the muscles in his neck stood out like iron cables. He turned his head slowly, his amber eyes burning with a terrifying, icy focus as he looked at me.

"He was a sleeper agent," Gideon said, his tone dangerously flat. "My father didn't just try to kill us at the border, Lyra. He left behind a active cipher inside the Citadel's central mainframe."

Ten minutes later, we were standing in the subterranean security archive beneath the executive suites.

The room was freezing, cooled by massive rows of humming server stacks that stored thirty years of Ironclaw corporate data.

Elder Vane stayed above to quarantine the medical wing, leaving just Gideon and me standing before the central terminal console.

Gideon tapped his biometric ring against the glass interface. "Bypass Marcus Sterling’s primary clearance. Override using Commander authority code Alpha One."

The console chimed softly. Access Granted.

A series of encrypted red files flooded the glass screen, cascading down in lines of military code. In the center of the dashboard sat a single drive folder labeled with a date from three days before the High Ridge Lodge summit.

Gideon hovered his hand over the interface. "This was recorded the night my father sent the Capital executioners to your cabin."

"Open it," I whispered, stepping closer until my shoulder pressed against his arm, offering the steady heat of our bond.

Gideon hit the key.

The screen flickered, replacing the code with a video log.

Marcus Sterling sat behind his dark desk in the executive suite, his dark hair neatly styled, his grey eyes cold, precise, and entirely devoid of emotion. He adjusted his dark suit cuffs before looking directly into the camera lens.

"If you are watching this, Gideon," Marcus’s recorded voice echoed through the cold server room, crisp and echoing, "then my grand play at the border failed. It means you survived the Silverfang ambush, and it means you brought the white rogue into our home."

Marcus leaned forward, resting his interlocked fingers on the glass desk.

"You always were a fool for honor, son. You think you've secured our future by binding yourself to the Royal Lineage. You think you're rebuilding this valley. But you are playing with an ancient, hungry curse."

Marcus's grey eyes narrowed on the screen, a cold, mocking smile touching his lips.

"She isn't your savior, Gideon. Her blood is not a blessing it is the spark for our total extinction. The High Council didn't wipe out her family twenty years ago out of fear of their power. They wiped them out because the Royal bloodline carries a terminal corruption. The moment she claims her throne... everyone around her bleeds."

The video cut to static.

The server room became quiet. I stood frozen, my hands trembling slightly as the cold words echoed in my head. I looked down at my hands the hands that held the silver daggers, the palm that had sealed the Blood Vault.

Beside me, Gideon didn't say a word. He simply stared at the blank screen, his face an unreadable mask of cold charcoal, his breathing slow, deep, and terrifyingly calm.