Chapter 156 Matters

Chapter 156 Matters
Far to the north, the sky above the Lycan Palace was a sickly, bruised purple. The grand stone courtyards were completely slick with dark, heavy blood.

Luther didn’t costly burden himself with giving orders or coordinating defense maneuvers. He simply watched from behind the safety of the reinforced upper balcony as the brave warriors threw their lives away to defend the outer walls. He was completely detached from the slaughter below, calmly eating and drinking from a silver platter of roasted meats and imported wine.

To make matters worse, he was being inappropriately touchy with a terrified female attendant, his heavy, greasy fingers pulling her tightly against his side as he watched the battle fold below like a theatrical performance.

Further up in the high tiers of the palace, the atmosphere was thick with tension. The inner council chambers were silent, protected by heavy, silver-lined doors. Inside, the surviving elders were huddled in the shadows, their hands trembling with absolute fury.

"We literally brought him back to this city for this exact reason," one elder hissed, pacing the floor as he glared toward the eastern wing. "We summoned Luther to take Ronan's position as the Lycan King because we thought he would protect our interests. And instead, the useless bastard is sitting in his luxurious chambers, filling his fat belly and fondling attendants while the Nosferu tear our guards to pieces!"

In the darkest corner of the room, the shadows along the heavy velvet curtains suddenly shifted. Faye stepped out. Her movements were entirely silent, her breathing completely steady despite the chaos outside. She held a long, narrow dagger in her right hand, the blade coated in a thick, colorless poison.

The eldest member of the council, Brandon, was the very first elder who had masterminded and instigated the treasonous coup against Ronan. He turned his head toward the corner, his eyes widening as he caught her scent. "You... you are Elara's maid. What are you doing here? This is treason!"

Faye let out a cold, melodic laugh that sent a shiver down the spines of everyone present. She tilted her head, her gaze sharp as a razor, walking slowly toward the center of the room with unhurried steps.

"Treason?" Faye echoed, her voice dripping with mockery. "That is hilarious coming from you, Elder Brandon. If what I am doing right now is considered treason, then you old fools betraying the rightful Lycan King is what exactly? An act of charity?"

Brandon straightened his spine, attempting to summon the remnants of his crumbling authority. "We did what was necessary for the survival of the crown! Ronan’s attachments to that Tribrid girl have brought nothing but ruin to our borders. We are the council. We have the legal right to seat a capable ruler when the alpha fails his people. Luther is a seasoned warlord."

"A seasoned warlord?" Faye paused, tapping the flat of her poisoned blade against her chin, her eyes gleaming in the dim candlelight. "Look out that window, Brandon. Your seasoned warlord is currently drowning himself in wine while the Nosferu paint the courtyard with your guards' intestines. Is that the protection you negotiated for? You bargained away your loyalty for safety, and you couldn't even get that right."

Another elder stepped forward, his face flushed with panicked anger. "You are just a maid, girl! A tool created to serve the throne and whoever sits on it! You have no right to judge the political decisions of this council. When Luther solidifies his rule, he will have your head for this insolence."

Faye’s smile didn't fade; it grew sharper, colder. "Luther doesn't even know where his own sentries are positioned right now. He certainly won't know when I decide to cut his throat. But don't worry about his future. Let's focus on yours. You brought a parasite into our home because you were terrified of Ronan's strength. You wanted a king you could control, a king who would let you keep your comfortable seats."

"We did it for the pack!" Brandon shouted, his voice cracking as his eyes darted toward the silver-lined doors. "The king was compromised! The bloodlines are fracturing! We simply chose a side that ensures our lineage continues!"

"No," Faye whispered, her voice dropping into a register that made the air in the room feel instantly freezing. "You chose a side that ensures your personal comfort. You sold out the pack, you sold out the alpha, and you sold out the future of the entire lineage just so you wouldn't have to face the consequences of your own cowardice. And the worst part? You actually thought you would live long enough to enjoy the rewards."

Brandon took a sharp step back, his hands trembling violently. "Stay back! We can negotiate, Faye. We can offer you a permanent position under the new regime. Total immunity. Wealth beyond your imagination. Just drop the blade."

"I already have a permanent position," Faye said softly, her body tensing as she prepared to strike. "I am the executioner of the true king."

Before Brandon could answer, Faye crossed the room in a single, fluid blur of motion. Brandon tried to scramble backward, but Faye was entirely too fast. She grabbed the front of his ceremonial robes, hauling his heavy frame out of the stone chair and slamming him face-first onto the hard marble table.

Brandon groaned, his teeth shattering against the stone. Before he could reorient his senses, Faye brutally drove her dagger straight through the back of his right hand, pinning his palm deeply into the thick wooden support beneath the marble.

Brandon let out a strangled, horrific shriek of pure agony. Faye didn't flinch. She leaned over him, her grip tightening on his hair as she violently yanked his head back to expose his throat, slicing it cleanly from ear to ear. The poison worked instantly, turning his blood into thick sludge before it could even splatter the surface.

The remaining four elders scrambled backward, terrified. Faye didn't look at their faces. She stepped forward, her blade moving with the mechanical precision of a butcher. One strike to the chest, one to the throat, and the final elder was pinned to the wall by his collar before she drove the steel through his eye socket. Within less than two minutes, the entire room was completely silent again. Faye wiped her blade on the silk robes of the nearest corpse and melted back into the shadows.

Down in the tactical secondary command bunker, Arwen was pacing the floor like a caged beast. When her scouts returned with the latest intelligence on Luther's complete inaction, she completely lost her mind.

"He is doing what?!" Arwen yelled, her voice booming off the stone walls. "The others are out there spilling their blood on the stones, fighting for our survival, while he is busy eating and drinking?!"

The subordinates who had delivered the news flinched violently, bowing their heads as Arwen clenched her fists. "I must take matters into my own hands," she growled.