Chapter 151 Mercy Has A Price.
Chapter 142
Rosa's POV
I stepped out of Jax's cottage quickly. I wasn't running. I refuse to call it that. But, my stride carried a sharp urgency, my heels struck the polished floor in crisp, echoing beats, a countdown no one else could hear.
My gaze slid down the corridor just as two guards rounded the corner at the far end.
Between them walked a smaller figure, head bowed, his wrist folded together.
Brielle.
My jaw tightened.
I pressed my lips together and kept walking.
Good girl, I thought. Keep your head down. Keep walking. Do not look back.
I had watched the whole thing unfold in that living room, Jax's face, the fire in his eyes, the way his voice had dropped to that terrifying quiet. And through all of it, Brielle had not broken. Not once. She had stood there in the middle of all that pressure, all that heat, all those eyes bearing down on her, and she had not cracked a single inch.
I had to admit something to myself as I walked.
I was impressed.
Deeply, genuinely impressed. And I was not a woman who was easily impressed.
I had worked with many wolves in my time. Clever ones, strong ones, ones who swore up and down that they were loyal and dedicated and would never fold no matter what came at them. And then the moment things got difficult , the moment someone like Jax looked at them with those cold, furious eyes, they folded like a piece of paper in the rain.
But Brielle?
Not even a tremor.
My goodness. I had never seen an omega with that kind of steel buried underneath such a quiet face. Not Freya. Not even close to Freya. And certainly not Lyra, that useless, self-righteous, question-asking, holier-than-every-wolf-who-has-ever-walked-this-earth Lyra, who could not follow a simple instruction without first holding it up to the light and examining it from seventeen different angles.
Brielle had followed every single instruction I gave her without a single unnecessary question. She had learned the script I handed her , the story about Theodore, the relationship between him and Brielle, how he had twisted and broken Brielle in the past. I had carefully used all these details from Brielle to come up with something that would forever damage Theodore and she had delivered it flawlessly. Like an actress who had been preparing for the role her entire life.
And for Theodore, I let his name sit in my mind for just a moment as I walked, and a slow, cold smile pulled at the corner of my mouth.
That foolish man had run away thinking he was escaping. Thinking that if he disappeared fast enough, the mess, the trauma he had put Brielle through in the past. What he didn't realize is that those things are coming to swallow him whole. He had no idea. He had absolutely no idea that he had not escaped anything. He had simply run straight into a path that I was already designing for him.
He had no idea that he may not step into this palace again. I would find that I find the right people, say the right words, move the right pieces , and Theodore would be handled long before his feet ever touched the soil of this pack again.
But that was a problem for later.
Right now I have something more important that demands my attention.
I looked for my bag and found it, tucked at my armpit. I could feel the weight pressed under my skin.
I made sure it was stashed with enough cash that can make someone lose their morality.
I had packed enough of it. They way a carpenter packs his tools for a specific jobs
I knew those guards at the prison would not bend easily. They were Jax's guards. They followed Jax's rules, and Jax's rules did not have exceptions. Since he is the king, everyone either one way or the other has sworn loyalty to the throne.
I was not naive enough to walk in there and simply ask them to be kind to Brielle out of the goodness of their hearts.
Kindness needed encouragement. I had learned that a long time ago.
But more than what Brielle needed to be kept in good condition. Not just alive, not just fed, but genuinely cared for. She had done her job perfectly, and I was not the kind of person who let a good soldier rot in uncomfortable circumstances while they waited for rescue. Brielle was my investment. And I took very good care of my investments.
The palace building crouched at the far end of the palace ground. It was built from heavy stones that seemed to swallow warmth.
The iron gates groaned whenever they shifted as though resentful of movement. Two guards shifted at attention outside. Chests lifted, faces carved in the same blank hardness shared by guards everywhere.
They straightened immediately when I approached them. Spines locked. Eyes shifted forward.
Good. Respect makes things easier.
One led me inside without demanding an explanation. A wise decision.
The air carried cold rocks and metals. My heels rang out from the corridor. Every step magnified by the walls.
I stopped before a thick wooden door and knocked. Then the door opened.
The office was modest but neat. A desk placed squarely at the center. A map hanging unevenly against the wall.
Behind the desk, stood a tall gaunt wolf, a heavy mustache that curled at the tips, rising towards the nose as if it defies gravity.
A long scar cut across his face, jagged unevenly, the mark of a fight that had not been gentle.
He had endured something brutal and walked away from it.
He studied me with cautious calculation, his gaze drifting once towards the door behind me as though he was assessing the escape route.
I pointed one finger at his chair.
"Sit down," I said pleasantly. "I am not here to waste your time."