The holding cells of Ashwood were damp, cold, and smelled of rust.Oreon locked the iron gate himself. He tested it twice. He turned to the two guards stationed there—men he had hand-picked from the few who hadn’t been drugged by Radinah or cowed by Philia."No one enters," Oreon commanded, but his voice had become hoarse. The use of the Alpha Voice earlier had drained him; his throat felt like he had swallowed broken glass. "Not Philia. Not Abram. Not Beta Kael. Only me.""Yes, Alpha," the guards saluted, looking terrified. They had felt the shockwave in the Great Hall. They knew their Alpha was on the edge.Oreon looked through the bars. Eltonia was sitting on the narrow cot. She wasn't crying anymore. She looked numb."I will fix this," Oreon promised, gripping the cold iron. "I will get the truth."Eltonia looked up. Her eyes were dry, but they held a great sadness. "Be careful, Alpha. The truth... sometimes it cuts deeper than a sword."Oreon nodded once, turned, and marched into
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