Chapter 170

Chapter 170: Chapter 170

The hidden chamber in the Shadowwood was alive with dark energy.

Varek Astrlyn sat at the head of the long obsidian table, his cold eyes gleaming with anticipation. Around him, his allies had gathered—Morgath, her dark robes pooling around her like spilled ink; Elias, his face a mask of grim determination; and Finn, standing in the shadows near the door, his expression unreadable.

"The king will surrender," Varek said, his voice filled with confidence. "He has no choice. His daughter is dying. He’ll give up the throne to save her."

"And once he does?" Elias asked.

"Once he does, I will ascend. The Thornridge line will fall. The Seven Packs will have a new ruler—one who will not bow to the weak, who will not tolerate dissent, who will crush anyone who stands in his way."

Morgath smiled—a thin, cruel expression. "And the girl? What happens to her after the exchange?"

Varek shrugged. "She dies. Or she lives. It doesn’t matter. Once I have the throne, she’s irrelevant."

"But the antidote," Elias pressed. "You said you have it. Is it real?"

Varek turned to Morgath. "Show him."

Morgath reached into her robes and produced a small vial filled with a shimmering silver liquid. It glowed faintly in the dim light, pulsing with an inner radiance.

"This is the antidote," she said. "Or rather, it’s a very convincing imitation. It will slow the poison’s progression perhaps for a few days, perhaps a week. But it won’t cure the girl. Nothing can cure her. The poison has already spread too far."

"So we give them the fake antidote," Elias said slowly, "and they think she’s getting better. But she’s still dying."

"Exactly." Morgath’s smile widened. "By the time they realize the truth, it will be too late. The king will have already surrendered the throne. And we will have already won."

Varek laughed a cold, triumphant sound. "It’s perfect. They’ll be so desperate, so grateful for the slightest improvement, that they won’t question it. They’ll believe the antidote worked. They’ll believe their daughter is saved."

"And when she dies?" Elias asked.

"Then we blame the Thornridges. We tell the realm that they failed their own daughter, that their incompetence killed her. The people will turn against them. And I will rise as the only leader strong enough to protect them."

The room fell silent. The plan was elegant in its cruelty. The Thornridge family would be destroyed not just by the death of their daughter, but by their own hope.

Finn stepped forward from the shadows.

"What about the exchange?" he asked. "How do we deliver the antidote without being caught?"

"We use a neutral location," Varek said. "The old temple on the border of the Shadowwood. We’ll arrange a meeting the king’s representatives and ours. They’ll bring the abdication papers. We’ll bring the antidote. Once the papers are signed, we hand over the vial and disappear."

"And if they try to double-cross us?"

"They won’t. They’re too desperate. Too afraid." Varek’s eyes gleamed. "The Thornridges are weak. They always have been. They care too much about each other. It’s their greatest flaw."

Finn nodded slowly. "And after?"

"After, we celebrate. The realm is ours. The packs will bow to me. And the Thornridge name will be nothing but a memory."

The meeting continued for another hour discussing logistics, planning contingencies, preparing for every possible outcome. And when it was finally over, Finn slipped out of the chamber and into the cold night air of the Shadowwood.

He walked alone through the twisted trees, his footsteps silent on the frozen ground. The moon was still absent from the sky the goddess’s punishment for the realm’s sins. But Finn didn’t care about the moon. He didn’t care about the goddess. He cared only about power.

Stupid fools, he thought, a cruel smile curving his lips. They think I’m their ally. They think I’m helping them take the throne.

He laughed softly, a cold, hollow sound.

But I’m the real enemy. Varek is a means to an end. Once he takes the throne, I’ll kill him. And his dumb son. And anyone else who stands in my way.

He thought about the future about the throne, about the power, about the realm bowing at his feet. He had started with a simple ambition: to rule the Astrlyn pack. But Varek had raised his standards. Why settle for one pack when he could have them all?

I’ll wait, he thought. I’ll watch. I’ll let them think they’ve won. And then—then I’ll strike.

He thought about Ragnar about the scarred Alpha who loved him, who trusted him, who would do anything for him.

I’ll convince him to come with me, Finn thought. He’s strong. He’s loyal. He’ll be useful. And if he won’t come willingly—

He pushed the thought aside. He would deal with Ragnar later. For now, he had more pressing concerns.

He disappeared into the shadows of the Shadowwood, his mind already racing ahead to the next phase of his plan.

The next morning, Freya’s friends arrived at the palace.

They came in a somber procession—Celeste and Mira, their faces pale; Dain Blackfang, his gray eyes red from crying; and several other students from Freya’s academy. They had been given special permission to see her a small mercy granted by the King, who understood that his daughter might not have much time left.

They gathered in the healing chamber, surrounding Freya’s bed. The blackness had spread further now it had reached her chest, the veins beneath her skin standing out like dark rivers. Her breathing was shallow, her face pale as death.

Celeste was the first to break. She sobbed openly, her hands covering her face. Mira stood beside her, tears streaming down her cheeks, her body shaking.

"She’s so pale," Mira whispered. "She looks... she looks like she’s already gone."

"She’s not gone," Celeste said fiercely. "She’s still fighting. She’s still—"

She couldn’t finish. The words died in her throat.

Dain stepped forward, his gray eyes fixed on Freya’s face. He had known her since they were children had played with her in the palace gardens, had teased her about her clumsiness, had held her hand when she was scared. He had loved her for as long as he could remember.

"Freya," he said, his voice breaking. "Freya, please. You can’t die. You can’t leave me. You can’t leave all of us."

He knelt beside her bed and took her hand cold, limp, lifeless.

"I love you," he whispered. "I’ve always loved you. I never told you because I was afraid. But I love you, Freya. And I can’t—I can’t lose you."

The room fell silent. The other students watched, their own tears falling, their own hearts breaking.

Dain pressed his forehead to Freya’s hand and wept.

Soren watched from the doorway.

He had been standing there for several minutes, watching Freya’s friends say their goodbyes. Watching Dain cry over his sister’s body. Watching the people who loved her grieve.

She’s not dead yet, he thought. But she will be. Unless I do something.

He turned and walked away, his heart heavy.

His parents were in their private chambers, sitting together on the sofa. The Queen was pale, her eyes red from crying. The King was holding her hand, his expression one of profound grief.

Soren entered and closed the door behind him.

"Any change?" he asked, though he already knew the answer.

"No." The Queen’s voice was hollow. "The healers say she has two days at most. They were able to prolong the days. They’ve done everything they can."

Soren sat down across from them. He looked at his mother, at the despair in her eyes, at the way she clung to his father’s hand and felt his heart break.

"I’ve been thinking," the Queen said. "About Varek’s offer."

Soren tensed. "Mother—"

"I know what you’re going to say. I know you think we shouldn’t negotiate with him. But she’s my daughter, Soren. My baby. If there’s even a chance—"

"There is no chance." Soren’s voice was firm. "Varek is a liar. He’ll give us a fake antidote, or he’ll give us nothing at all. He’ll take the throne and let Freya die anyway."

"We don’t know that."

"Yes, we do. He’s a monster. He killed his own brother. He tried to kill me. He’s been trying to destroy our family from the beginning. He will not keep his word."

The Queen stared at him. "Then what do we do? What can we do?"

Soren was silent for a long moment. He thought about the Moon Goddess about the bargain he had made, about the sacrifice he was about to make.

I can’t tell them, he thought. I can’t tell them what I’m planning. It would only hurt them more.

"There’s another way," he said quietly. "I’m working on it."

"What way?"

"I can’t tell you. Not yet. But I need you to trust me. And I need you to not take Varek’s deal. No matter what happens—no matter how desperate things seem don’t give him the throne."

The Queen looked at him at the determination in his golden eyes, at the quiet strength in his voice. She didn’t understand what he was planning. But she trusted him.

"Alright," she said. "We won’t take the deal."

Soren nodded. He stood and crossed to his mother, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"I love you," he said. "Both of you. Whatever happens—remember that."

He turned and walked out before they could respond.

Corvin found Valeria in her quarters.

She was sitting at her desk, surrounded by papers, her dark hair loose around her shoulders. She looked up when he entered, her expression wary.

"Corvin. I wasn’t expecting you."

"Soren sent me. He said you have information about Finn."

Valeria nodded slowly. "I do. But it’s... complicated."

"Tell me anyway."

She gestured for him to sit. He did, his eyes fixed on her face.

"Finn is Varek’s son," she said. "His illegitimate son. Elias is his half-brother. They share the same father but different mothers."

Corvin’s blood ran cold. "Finn is Varek’s son? Does Ragnar know?"

"No. No one knows except me, Soren and Elias. And now you."

"How did you find out?"

"Elias told me. He has a habit of spilling secrets when he’s... distracted." Valeria’s lips curved into a small, bitter smile. "Finn has been working with Varek from the beginning. He’s been feeding information to the enemy, sabotaging the investigation, manipulating everyone around him."

"Including Ragnar?"

"Especially Ragnar. Finn has been using him, his feelings, his loyalty to gather information and stay ahead of us."

Corvin’s hands curled into fists. "Does Soren know?"

"He knows. He’s known for weeks. But he didn’t want to tell Ragnar because he was afraid of how he’d react."

"He was right to be afraid." Corvin stood. "Ragnar loves Finn. This will destroy him."

"Which is why we need to be careful. We need to gather evidence before we confront Finn. We need to be sure."

"I’ll talk to Soren. We’ll figure out a plan." Corvin paused. "And Valeria? Thank you. For telling me."

Valeria nodded. "I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing it for me. If Finn and Varek win, I’ll be eliminated. They don’t need loose ends."

"Whatever your reasons, you’re helping. That counts for something."

He turned and walked out, his mind racing.

In the Moon Court, Nyra sat alone in her chamber, her eyes red from crying.

She had tried again and again to reach the mortal realm—to see Soren, to help Freya, to do something. But her power was still too weak. She could only watch from a distance, helpless to interfere.

She’s dying, Nyra thought. Freya is dying, and I can’t do anything.

The door opened, and Evelyn entered. Her earthly mother crossed the room and sat beside her, her face gentle.

"I know you’re hurting," Evelyn said. "I know you want to help."

"I can’t help. I can’t do anything. I’m trapped here while everyone I love is suffering."

Evelyn took her hand. "You’re not trapped. You’re protected. There’s a difference."

"Is there? Because it doesn’t feel that way."

Evelyn was silent for a moment. Then she spoke.

"Your mother—the goddess—she loves you more than you know. She’s not keeping you here to punish you. She’s keeping you here because she’s afraid. She lost you once. She doesn’t want to lose you again."

"Then she should let me go. She should trust me."

"Trust is difficult for her. She’s been alone for so long. She’s forgotten how to trust anyone but herself." Evelyn squeezed her hand. "But she’s learning. And so are you."

Nyra looked at her. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that you have more power than you realize. Not just the Moonblood magic but the power of your heart. Your love for Soren, for Freya, for your friends it’s stronger than any magic. It will find a way."

"How?"

"I don’t know. But it will." Evelyn smiled. "Have faith, my love. All will be well."

Nyra wanted to believe her. She wanted to believe that everything would work out that Freya would live, that Soren would be safe, that she would find a way back to them.

But the fear remained. And so did the doubt.

She hugged her mother and closed her eyes, praying to a goddess she wasn’t sure she trusted.

Please, she thought. Please let them be safe.