Chapter 109 Eliana Is Dead!!
Fernando stood by the window of his chamber, arms crossed, jaw clenched so tight a muscle jumped beneath his skin. The fire in the hearth had long since died, but the room still felt like an oven stifling, suffocating, charged with rage barely held in check.
Samael and Darius stood just inside the door, having delivered their report in terse, clipped sentences. Now they waited.
When Fernando finally spoke, his voice was dangerously quiet. “She poisoned him.”
Darius nodded. “Confirmed. Mira isolated the toxin. It matches the Ashen Veil strain; only her bloodline can synthesize it without dying.”
Fernando turned slowly, eyes burning gold at the edges. “And you let her sit in a cell? Unharmed? After she tried to murder my mate?”
“She’s not just any wolf,” Darius said carefully. “She’s the sole heir of the Southern Ember Pack. If we execute her or even imprison her the alliance collapses. Worse, her uncles will declare war. You know how volatile the southern border is.”
Fernando took a step forward. “I don’t care about borders. I don’t care about treaties. She put her hands on him.”
“And if you kill her,” Samael cut in, voice low but firm, “you prove to every pack that your emotions rule your throne. That you’re unstable. That this court is no longer governed by law but by vengeance.”
Fernando whirled on him. “Don’t lecture me about governance!”
“I’m not,” Samael said evenly. “I’m reminding you that Alberto survived. He’s healing. And if you ignite a war over a snake who’s already been exposed, you’ll drag him into a conflict he never asked for.”
Silence stretched between them, thick and brittle.
Darius stepped forward. “For the old sake for the peace your father bled to build release her. Send her back to her pack in disgrace. Let them deal with her. Let them explain why their heir resorted to poison in a sacred duel.”
Fernando stared at him, chest heaving. His fists trembled at his sides.
Minutes passed.
Then, with a sound like gravel grinding, he exhaled. “Fine. She leaves at dawn. Stripped of honors. No escort beyond our border. And if she ever sets foot in my territory again, I won’t warn her twice.”
Darius bowed his head slightly. “Thank you, Alpha.”
\---
At first light, Eliana stood at the eastern gate, cloaked in plain gray wool, no insignia, no jewels. Her face was still bruised, her arm in a sling, but her eyes burned with humiliation and fury. A single cart waited beyond the threshold, driven by a silent beta assigned only to take her to the border.
She didn’t look back as the gates groaned shut behind her.
Inside the courtyard, Samael watched from the battlements until the cart disappeared into the tree line.
Then he turned and walked straight to Fernando’s study.
“I need three days’ leave,” he said without preamble.
Fernando, seated at his desk reviewing border reports, looked up sharply. “Now?”
“Yes,” Samael said. “Personal matter. Urgent.”
Darius, who had just entered with a scroll in hand, frowned. “What kind of personal matter?”
Samael met his gaze. “One I can’t explain yet. But I’ll give you the full scope once I’m back.”
Fernando studied him for a long moment. Then nodded. “Go. But be back before moonrise on the third night. We’re holding the bonding ceremony for Alberto soon.”
Samael bowed slightly. “Understood.”
He left without another word, striding through the halls with purpose, his pack slung over one shoulder, a dagger hidden in his boot, and a vial of black oil tucked in his belt.
Darius watched him go, unease prickling his spine. “He’s hiding something.”
Fernando set down his quill. “He always does. But he’s never failed us.”
Darius wasn’t convinced. But he said nothing more.
\---
Two days passed.
Alberto remained in Fernando’s chamber, weak but conscious, his color slowly returning. Fernando rarely left his side, speaking little, watching much. The court had fallen eerily quiet no protests, no whispers, only cautious glances and lowered heads.
On the evening of the second day, a rider arrived from the southern border.
He was covered in dust, his horse lathered in sweat, his eyes wide with horror.
Darius met him in the courtyard.
The rider dismounted with trembling legs and thrust a sealed letter into Darius’s hands. “From the Southern Ember outpost,” he gasped. “It’s… it’s bad.”
Darius broke the seal immediately.
The message was short. Brutal.
> Eliana of the Southern Ember Pack was found dead at the crossroads of Black Hollow. Her guards and maids were slaughtered. Her body… was in pieces. No witnesses. No tracks. Only a single white feather pinned to her chest.
Darius read it twice. Then a third time.
His blood ran cold.
He turned and strode toward the east wing, the letter crumpled in his fist.
Inside Fernando’s study, he found the Alpha sharpening a blade, his expression unreadable.
“Eliana’s dead,” Darius said without preamble.
Fernando didn’t look up. “Good.”
“No,” Darius said, voice tight. “Not good. She was murdered. Torn apart. Her entire retinue was wiped out. And there was a white feather left on her body.”
Fernando finally looked up. His eyes narrowed. “A calling card?”
“Or a message,” Darius said grimly.
They both knew who wore white fur dotted with starlight.
But neither said the name.
Because Samael hadn’t returned yet.
And the third night hadn’t come.
Darius stared at the letter again, the words blurring before his eyes.