Chapter 23 Stay away from the Gala!

Chapter 23 Stay away from the Gala!

Scarlette’s POV

"Oh shit!" I said, rolling over to my side.

Sleep refused to grace me with its presence, no matter how badly my body cried for it.

My mind just refused to settle, and so I couldn't find any sleep. It was really annoying, mostly because I didn't want to be thinking or worrying about anything now, but my subconscious mind refused to understand that.

Every sound felt louder than usual. Every shadow looked like it was hiding something. The poison had left my muscles heavy, but my instincts were still too sharp.

I lay on my bed staring at the ceiling, counting the slow rhythm of my breathing. The room was dim, lit only by the faint glow of the moon sneaking through the curtains. The silence felt unnatural.

I finally drifted off.

It couldn’t have been long.

A sharp crack sliced through the silence that had fallen upon my room just minutes ago.

I heard something weave past me, followed by a thud.

My eyes flew open.

I sat up instantly, heart slamming against my ribs. The sound had come from the far side of the room.

I turned.

An arrow was embedded in the wall.

No.

Not the wall exactly. It was in my portrait.

The wooden frame had split slightly, the arrow buried straight through the chest area of the painted version of me. The tip vibrated faintly, still reeling from the impact of the shot.

I swung my legs off the bed, ignoring the dull ache in my side as I stood. The floor felt cold under my bare feet.

Someone had shot that from outside.

Which meant they were close.

Before I could move further, heavy footsteps echoed in the hallway.

“Your majesty!” Kael’s voice.

His fist hit the door. Once. Twice.

“Your majesty, what happened? Are you alright?”

I walked to the door and opened it before he could break it down.

He rushed in immediately.

His eyes scanned me from head to toe, his hands gripping my shoulders as he turned me slightly. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine.”

He didn’t stop until he confirmed it himself. Only then did he exhale, tension leaving his shoulders.

“Thank goodness,” he muttered.

Another set of footsteps approached.

Cyrus entered, robe loosely tied, hair slightly disheveled, as if he had rushed from sleep.

“What happened?” he asked.

I stepped aside and pointed.

Both of them turned to follow the directions of my slender fingers.

The arrow is still stuck in the portrait.

Kael’s expression hardened instantly.

Cyrus walked closer, examining it carefully. “They’re bold.”

“Or desperate,” I replied.

I walked to the portrait and pulled the arrow out slowly. The wood creaked slightly as it came free. Something was tied just below the shaft.

A small folded paper.

Of course.

I untied it and opened it.

The handwriting was rough.

'If you want your pack and people to be saved, stay away from the Alpha’s Gala.'

The room fell silent.

Kael read over my shoulder.

Cyrus leaned in.

I folded the paper slowly.

“As predicted,” I said.

Kael looked at me.

“Alpha Azrael is an ally to the enemies.”

The words came out colder than I intended.

One of the guards stepped in. “Alpha.”

“Yes?”

“We caught him.”

My lips curved slightly.

“Already?”

“Yes, your majesty. We did as you ordered and acted like the security was relaxed. He took the bait and went up one of the trees to shoot the arrow, but we already surrounded him before he could come down. There was no way he could have escaped that.”

Cyrus nodded approvingly. “Good.”

“Where is he now?” I asked.

“We've taken him to the dungeon for torture.”

I didn’t hesitate. “Let's go.”

“I think you should rest,” Kael said immediately.

I shot him a look.

He sighed. “Or maybe I should walk with you.”

I didn't give a reply, I just started moving.

We moved through the corridors quietly. My body still felt weak, but adrenaline kept me steady.

The dungeon door creaked open.

The smell hit me first. That smell of Damp stone mixed with the smell of rust and a little of old blood.

The prisoner sat tied to a chair, head lowered. His clothes were dark, his hood pulled back now, and blood was already dropping from his face.

He looked up when we entered.

Fear flashed in his eyes as I stepped closer.

“Once upon a bloody scapegoat,” I said calmly.

He swallowed hard.

Kael stood slightly behind me, arms crossed.

Cyrus leaned against the thick bars of the cell, observing.

The man’s gaze darted between us.

“I don’t know anything,” he blurted.

“You haven’t even been asked,” I replied.

I picked up the arrow they had placed on the table nearby and held it in front of him.

“You already know my question, so don't speak up and don't fucking waste my time."

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

I tilted my head. “Wrong answer.”

He shook his head quickly. “I swear...”

I drove the arrow into the wooden table beside his hand.

He flinched violently.

“You shot at my room,” I said softly. “That gives me the right to be impatient.”

He started breathing faster.

“I… I was told to deliver the message.”

“By who?”

“I don’t know his name.”

“Describe him.”

“He wore a cloak.”

Of course.

“What else?”

“I don't know, I'm just a messenger, I don't have any business with the sender's name. I don't even know the content of the letter. All I do is deliver letters blindly.”

I exchanged a glance with Kael.

Cyrus stepped forward. “So you're telling me your sender didn't even mention at least one name?”

The man hesitated.

I noticed.

“Yes or no.”

“No,” he whispered.

Kael stiffened.

“Other than the cloak, what else is significant about this sender of yours?" I asked, my patience was already becoming thin.

“He had a tattoo on his left hand. I never got to the full view of what was drawn on his hand, but it looked like a skull."

"Skull?" I repeated.

"Gomez!" Cyrus's voice followed.

Everyone's eyes moved to Cyrus, but the captive didn't deny or confirm. Maybe he was genuinely not aware of the mess he had gotten himself into for money.

“Keep him locked up!” I ordered.

"Your majesty, please!"

"I'm innocent..." He cried as we walked out.

The hallway felt colder now.

“They want you to stay away from the Gala.” Kael said, pointing out the obvious.

“Which means I’m definitely going,” I replied.

Cyrus smiled faintly. “I expected nothing less.”

I looked ahead.

The game had changed.

And I intended to play it on my terms.