Chapter 9: The Departure

Sera

The heavy black bear-fur mantle fell over my trembling shoulders like a wall of living heat.

Before my feet could touch the wet, tea-stained marble again, Cassian lifted me completely off the ground. He held me securely against his broad chest, tucking my bare legs beneath the thick wool folds of his cloak. My cheek pressed into the hard, cold iron plate covering his collarbone, but beneath the armor, the steady, rhythmic boom of his heartbeat was like thunder rolling over a quiet valley.

"Lord Cassian, wait!" Camilla called out, stepping toward the dais, her voice tight and high. "You cannot be serious! She is an omega runt! She tried to burn down the east wing this morning! She is feral, diseased—"

Cassian did not pause. He did not even turn his head.

"If that female takes another step toward me," he commanded, his voice cutting through the hall like a winter wind, "Vane, take her tongue."

Commander Vane took half a step forward, his gauntleted hand resting on the pommel of his broadsword. The scrape of steel inside the scabbard was enough. Camilla shrank back with a sharp gasp, catching Beatrice’s arm, her face graying beneath her heavy layer of rice powder.

Tyler stood frozen by the table, clutching the unsigned ledgers, his grin widening with pure, greedy relief as he watched me being carried out. To him, every step Cassian took was gold saved and a dangerous secret gone forever.

Cassian strode down the central aisle of the hall. Fifty northern cataphracts fell in behind him in double ranks, their heavy iron boots drumming against the stone with terrifying precision.

Near the kitchen archway, Kael stood leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his leather cuirass.

As Cassian passed, Kael’s amber eyes flicked to me. His lip curled into that same cruel sneer he had worn earlier in the snow, when his combat boot was grinding my wrist into the mud.

"Enjoy the high pass, stray," Kael muttered under his breath, just loud enough for my ears. "A starving dog in a silk collar is still a dog. The Lycans will tire of their new pet before the week is out. Once they smell what you are, they'll tear you apart and feed your bones to the mountain crows."

A cold shudder ran through my ribs. The cruelty was so familiar, so worn into my skin, that my wolf whimpered and tried to burrow away.

Cassian stopped dead in his tracks.

The entire vanguard halted behind him with a single, synchronized clatter of armor. The temperature around Kael plummeted. The moisture in the young Beta’s breath froze into fine, white needles in the air.

Cassian turned his head just enough to catch Kael with one molten, predatory eye.

"You speak to your Queen, cur," Cassian whispered, the sound vibrating with an Alpha-King aura so heavy that the plaster on the doorframe cracked. "Pray we never ride south again. If my shadow crosses this river, your skull will be the first cobblestone beneath my boots."

Kael’s knees buckled. His smug sneer shattered into naked panic, his breath coming in short, choked gasps as the invisible weight forced him down onto one knee on the dirty stone.

Cassian turned away without waiting for him to fall completely, carrying me out into the bitter winter air.

The courtyard was packed with Riverfang wolves, all watching in stunned, eerie silence. No one cheered. No one said goodbye. They stood in the freezing slush, watching the monster of the north carry away the dirty, nameless attic girl they had stepped over for ten years.

Commander Vane ripped the heavy door of the Duke’s private carriage wide.

Cassian stepped up into the dark interior and set me down gently on the deep velvet cushions. The carriage door slammed shut behind us, cutting off the scent of Riverfang, the smell of burned cedar, and the cruel valley I had called home.