Chapter 271 Skoll’s Vengeance - Aleksandr's POV

Chapter 271 Skoll’s Vengeance - Aleksandr's POV
I nodded. “We caught four people. Owen Mercer made the pastry. Finn Ashby collected it. Seraphina Kane delivered it, and her brother Percival supplied the poison. The Kanes were distant relations of Councillor Thaddeus.”
Amelia held my gaze through the tears. Grief sharpened as I watched, heartbreak finding an edge. Her fingers knotted in the hospital sheet until the white fabric creased beneath them.
“What happened to them?” Her voice was level, the restraint more forceful than shouting.
I paused because the truth did not fit comfortably into words. Skoll had left four bodies in the interrogation room, ruined beyond recognition, and I had allowed it.
“Skoll took his vengeance,” I said.
She did not flinch or look away. Calculation replaced shock as she understood what I meant. She had witnessed Skoll’s violence before and knew the cost of letting the wolf decide where justice ended.
She gave one sharp nod. Then she reached across the sheet and rested her hand over mine, contact without absolution.
“Our pups are safe.” Not a question. A fact she needed to hear aloud.
“Yes.” Relief roughened the word. I turned my hand beneath hers and held on. She had not asked for details or offered forgiveness. She had only measured the outcome against what we had nearly lost, and for the moment the pups’ survival outweighed everything else.
A faint smile touched her mouth, exhausted and fierce. It did not erase the questions waiting between us, but it told me we would reach them.
The silence held more than grief. Dominic’s report still waited behind my teeth: Kane’s name, the ruined investigation and four sources erased before their network had been fully mapped. Amelia had woken into a crisis I had made harder to solve, and protecting her from that truth would only repeat the arrogance that had already cost us too much.
“There’s more,” I said. “They named Thaddeus Kane as the influence behind the plan, but we cannot prove how direct his involvement was. I ended the interrogation before Dominic could extract every connection.”
Her expression changed again, not with fear this time but with disappointment. It was quieter than anger and far more difficult to meet.
“So they’re dead, and we still don’t know who else helped them.”
“No.” I forced myself not to soften it. “Dominic recovered their devices and financial records. The investigation continues, but I destroyed evidence we may not be able to replace.”
Amelia looked towards the ceiling for several seconds. When she returned her attention to me, the hurt remained alongside a familiar strategic focus. “I understand why Skoll wanted them dead. I understand why you did too. But understanding is not the same as saying it was the right decision.”
“I know.” The admission cost less than it should have because I had spent four days reaching the same conclusion. “When you’re stronger, I’ll tell you everything. You decide what accountability looks like.”
She studied me, measuring whether the promise was genuine or another attempt to surrender responsibility. At last, she nodded. The movement did not absolve me. It established terms.
The door opened before either of us could say more. Sylvia entered with a clipboard and the brisk focus of a healer delivering good news before anyone could interrupt it. Satisfaction briefly softened her face.
“Toxin levels are down significantly, my Queen. Most of it has cleared your system. The remaining traces are minimal and no longer a concern. I want to keep you here tonight for observation, but the worst is behind us.”
Amelia’s brow furrowed. “How long have I been here? Exactly?”
Sylvia glanced at me. The brief exchange carried four days of shared vigil and the question of how much Amelia needed at once.
“Four days, my Queen,” Sylvia said gently. “You collapsed at the gala. This is the fourth morning.”
Amelia went still. Shock crossed her face, then tightened into anger because anger was easier for her to carry.
“I lost four days to this.” She said it like an account she intended someone to settle.
“I’m afraid so.” Sylvia’s apology was brief and genuine. “Your body needed the time. Kaela made sure you got it.”
She set down the clipboard and shifted into the authority she used when rank became medically irrelevant.
“Keep her on fluids for the next few hours. Small, frequent sips. In two hours she may have broth, but nothing solid until tomorrow. Watch for dizziness, nausea or any return of numbness. If any appear, call me immediately. Do not wait and do not assume it is harmless.”
“Dominic will oversee the kitchens himself,” I said. “Only he or Mira will handle the Queen’s food. No intermediaries. If it does not pass directly from one of them to Amelia, it does not enter this room.”
Sylvia approved with a short nod, gathered her clipboard and vials, and headed for the door with the purposeful pace of someone whose next patient was already waiting.
“Rest, my Queen,” she said over her shoulder. “Your body’s done the hard part. Now it just needs time to remember how the easy parts work.”
I told her what Dominic had done during the interval: sealed the gala, preserved the poisoned pastry, detained the kitchen staff and traced every hand that had touched the tray. I described the recovered records without pretending they compensated for the testimony I had erased. Amelia listened without interrupting, storing each fact for the reckoning to come.
“Percival said Kane approached him months ago,” I continued. “There may be payments, intermediaries or messages buried in the devices. Dominic believes the network can still be mapped, but it will take longer now.”
“Then Dominic gets everything he needs,” Amelia said. Fatigue weakened her voice, not the decision. “No council interference. No one seals records because the names are inconvenient. If Kane built this through relatives and staff, I want every branch examined.”
“Agreed.”