Chapter 244 Is That Victory?: Alpha Klaus's POV

Chapter 244 Is That Victory?: Alpha Klaus's POV
The high courtyard of the Iron Citadel smelled of wet ash, iron, and fresh blood.

By noon, the sun sat high over the southern valley, burning off the last of the mountain mist. My warriors had cleared the bodies from the main gates, stacking Kaelen’s fallen guards near the timber woodpile for burial outside the walls.

Sixty-five men stood formation in the center of the flagstone yard. Their grey leather vests were torn and stained, but their heads were held high. Not a single man had broken rank.

Bram walked out from the lower armory, dragging a heavy iron chain. Bound to the end of the links were four men in fine wool tunics and velvet-lined cloaks.

These were Kaelen’s loyalist lords: Lord Vance of the Southern March, Baron Gable of the Lower Ford, and two wealthy landholders who had funded Kaelen’s winter mercenary force. They stumbled over the cobblestones, their faces grey with terror as they looked at the blood drying on my iron breastplate.

"We found them hiding in the lower cellar under the wine barrels, Alpha," Bram barked, shoving the four men down onto their knees in front of the stone dais.

"We had no part in Kaelen’s treachery!" Lord Vance shrieked, his thin hands clutching his velvet collar. "We were guests! We paid taxes to the Citadel because we had no choice! Spare us, Alpha Klaus, and we will double our tribute to the North!"

I did not answer right away.

I stood on the raised stone step, resting my hand flat on the pommel of my father's broadsword. Beside me stood Zoey, her short bow slung across her chest, her dark eyes watching the four lords like a hawk hunting field mice. Valerius and Samuel stepped into position behind us, their iron shields resting against their boots.

I looked down at Vance.

"You paid taxes to Kaelen while he starved the village at the creek," I said, my voice low, dark, and flat. "You brought him silver while his light skirmishers raided my border."

"We were forced!" Baron Gable whimpered, pressing his forehead against the damp stones. "Kaelen had a hundred spears! We are small lords! We only wanted to protect our lands!"

"You protected your velvet cloaks," Zoey said quietly from my left, her voice cutting through their crying like an iron blade. "You watched from your high windows while Kaelen took the last sheep from starving farm children."

Vance looked up at Zoey, his eyes wide with desperate panic. "Speak for us, female! Tell the Alpha we can supply his army! We have grain in our barns! We have gold in our vaults!"

I stepped down off the stone dais. The broad heel of my boot landed with a heavy THUD six inches from Vance’s face. He flinched, pulling his head back into his shoulders.

"The North Pack does not take bribes from cowards," I told him, looking into his eyes until he lowered his gaze to the dirt. "And you do not address my female."

A low murmur of agreement passed through the ranks of my sixty-five warriors. They shifted their spears, their iron-shod boots stomping once against the stone flags in a heavy display of pack unity.

"I will not take your heads today," I said, cold and direct. "Execution is for warriors who fight and lose. You are not warriors."

The four lords let out ragged gasps of relief, but I was not finished.

"You will surrender all iron armor, broadswords, and black powder stored in your estate keeps," I commanded, pointing my leather gauntlet south toward their lands. "You will yield half of your winter grain stores to the farming settlements along the creek bed. And your outer stone walls will be pulled down to the dirt."

Vance gasped. "Pull down our walls? That leaves our homes open to the wild!"

"It leaves your homes under my protection," I growled, stepping closer until my shadow covered him completely. "You do not need stone walls. You need to remember who rules this valley. If I hear of one silver coin paid to Kaelen’s remaining captains, I will return with Bram and sixty men. And we will not bring supply carts."

"We yield!" Gable sobbed, pounding his fists against the flagstones. "We yield to the North Pack! We swear it on our blood!"

"Bram," I ordered, turning my back on the kneeling lords. "Take their horses. Give them four pack mules and send them back to their estates. If they are not past the river by dusk, shoot their mounts."

"With pleasure, Alpha," Bram grinned, jerking the heavy iron chain to haul the four lords back to their feet.

The men in the yard let out a rough, loud laugh as Bram dragged the stumbling nobility toward the outer gates.

Valerius stepped forward, holding a leather parchment map of the southern territory.

"The outer towers are secured, Klaus," Valerius reported, his broad face serious. "The lower armory gave us forty fresh iron spears, twenty steel helmets, and five more kegs of black powder. The twenty recruits from the creek village have taken over the battlements."

"Good," I said. "Station fifteen of our veteran warriors here under Samuel’s command. The Citadel will be our southern garrison. The rest of the column prepares to march back to the mountain at dawn."

"Understood, Alpha," Valerius bowed his head, stepping away to carry out the orders.

I walked toward the high stone wall overlooking the southern valley.

The valley stretched out for miles below us, green, broad, and open under the bright blue sky. The threat to our southern border was broken. The Iron Citadel was ours.

Zoey walked up beside me, leaning her forearm against the cold stone rampart. The wind picked up from the mountain pass, blowing her dark hair across her face.

She turned her head, looking at the silver signet ring resting securely on a leather cord around her neck, hidden under her wool tunic.

"The south is quiet now," she said softly, her dark eyes scanning the open road below.

"For today," I answered, turning to face her.

My broad hand reached out, taking her fingers in mine. Her grip was tight, warm, and strong.

"The lords know your name now, Klaus," Zoey said, looking up into my eyes with a quiet, fierce pride. "They don't just fear your blade. They respect your law."

"They respect our law," I corrected her, squeezing her hand close against my ribs. "This pack was built on blood and dirt, Zoey. We hold it together."

She leaned in close, resting her cheek against my chest armor for a brief, quiet moment while the wind howled around the high stone tower.