Chapter 45 Chapter 45
The ceiling was low, the walls paneled in old wood, the kind that had soaked up a century of secrets and spilt liquor. The House of Keltos’s interior guardroom was neither grand nor forgiving. Earlier their screams could be heard in the estate.
Both guards who’d vanished during the night laid face down, shackled to the blackwood bench, ankles apart, wrists clamped behind. Their uniforms were rumpled, hair plastered flat with sweat. They’d been found quickly within an hour of Nyxios’s orders: dragged from a side street by loyal house staff, hauled here as soon as possible.
Nyxios entered at a measured pace, Thalana ghosting behind, her eyes fixed on the prisoners with contempt sharp enough to wound.
In that stern light, Nyxios studied the men who until yesterday had sworn him their loyalty. They were not strangers. Nyxios remembered one of them as a messenger, light on his feet, the other a former runner from the outlying guardhouses. Both wore fresh bruises on their faces, and their wrists were roped tight. Their guilt hung heavier than even the Captain’s glare.
Nyxios didn’t speak at first. He let the silence fill the space, let the sense of doom sink claws into the traitors. Shadow magic pooled around his feet, hungry for someone to punish. The men shivered.
The Captain of the Guard stood sentinel, the lines of fatigue on his brow deepening with each passing minute. He spoke first, filling the silence with meticulous detail.
“Both absent last night for an hour, just after third bell. You instructed double watches. Instead, these two swapped posts. When questioned, they lied about the reason. House Maelis badges were found on them.” He tossed the evidence on the table: a pair of gleaming silver-and-onyx pins. “We tracked the route to the servant’s exit. There was blood and Lady Patrina’s collar left in the dirt.”
Thalana’s face darkened. “You pathetic cowards. Was it greed or something better? Answer now, or he’ll make you wish for death.”
The older guard lifted his chin and sneered. “You can’t prove anything.”
Nyxios’s reply was shadow. The darkness gathered at his palm, stretching outward until it became a cold chain of mana that wrapped around the guard’s chest. The sensation of compressing, then expanding—bones and skin forced to their limit—made the guard’s face turn gray. He gasped, sweat bursting down his cheek, body straining.
The second guard, already trembling, eyed the Captain. “Please—”
The Captain produced a clay vial. “Truth potion. Had to wake the apothecary for this one. Drink or the dark will be kinder than your next five hours.” He forced it into the guard’s mouth, pinching his nose. The brew went down in three large gulps, splashing at the corners of his lips. The guard’s eyes dilated.
Nyxios leaned in, voice soft but lethal. “Who paid you?”
“Lady Valeska Maelis.” The words tumbled out, unfiltered. “Not her directly—a shadow agent. They said, said you were too soft for a real companion, that the human belonged with real strength.”
The shadows rippled, pleased. Nyxios pressed the chain tighter on the first guard until he wheezed. “How did you take her? Speak clearly.”
The guard coughed, blood speckling his lips. “Waited until the human was alone. Told her you were waiting. Lead her outside. Drugged her. Used your old blood to unlock the collar. The rest was quick. Hauled her out while she was limp.”
Thalana cut in: “Did you know what would happen to her?”
The truth drugged guard sobbed openly. “Not the details. No! Maelis doesn’t talk. They paid, they said to make it quick, no witnesses. If we got caught, they’d disavow us. Please!”
Nyxios’s anger was slow-building and precise. He studied the opened the collar in his hand, then returned his energy to the task of making these betrayers suffer.
He let the shadows crawl up the guards’ arms, needles of cold and pain just under the skin. They screamed.
“You broke your oath, risked the safety of my companion. Do you know what the usual penalty is for this kind of betrayal?”
He drew magic higher, letting the darkness peel at their nerves. The first guard lost his composure, biting down on a shriek. The other shook, lips quivering and leaking more confession: “They said you’d never catch us. They gave us a plan. I’m sorry, Lord Nyxios. I swear.”
The shadows slid around their necks and began to slowly squeeze.
The door snapped open, and Quasros entered. He looked once to Thalana and the Captain, then saw Nyxios focused on choaking his former guards to death.
“Enough!” Quasros said, “Our house will not be marked by murderers. The law is clear. Thirty lashes for each, and delivery to the city guard for formal sentencing. We will not give Maelis or the Magistrate cause to tarnish our reputation.”
Nyxios released the shadows, letting them recede into the floor. The guards sagged, faces slack with shock and pain.
Quasros pointed to the Captain: “Prepare them.”
The Captain nodded, efficient and merciless. He released the prisoners from the bench, forced them to kneel, and stripped their uniforms to the waist. A whip unfurled from the Captain’s belt.
Nyxios watched, detached now, his anger iced over by duty. Thalana’s lips thinned, but she didn’t look away.
The first lash made the nearby loyal guards flinch. Skin split, blood welled. Both traitors grunted—the larger refusing to cry out, the second already whimpering.
Ten, twenty, thirty. The arms and backs of the prisoners shredded, crimson streaks crossing old ink and new bruises. The Captain never rushed, spacing each strike for maximum effect. After the final lash, he left the guards collapsed, gasping on the floor, blood pooling beneath.
“Send them to the Magistrate’s office,” Quasros said. “Make it clear they betrayed for gold. Spare no detail.” He shot a warning glance at his son. “And if Limdrion’s council asks, we insist on justice, not revenge.”
The Captain dragged the guards upright. They hissed and moaned, broken pride gone, as they were marched down the corridors and into the city’s uncertain hands.
Nyxios did not move, pulse hammering beneath his skin.
Thalana broke the hush. “You know the truth, don’t you? The Magistrate will free them within a week. You hadn’t finalized her bond, not in the eyes of the law. Patrina was barely even yours.”
Nyxios swallowed the words he wanted to say. Cold shame settled on his tongue.
Thalana leaned close, voice dropping so only he could hear her. “Next time, don’t wait for the magic to turn bright. Do whatever you must and get her consent. Or you’ll lose my friend for good.”
The door closed on the aftermath, leaving Nyxios to gather the pieces of his failure. Regret choked every breath, but beneath it, something mean and determined refused to die.
He would not lose her again.