Chapter 113 I'm Sorry
Darius pushed open the door to Samael’s quarters without knocking. The room was dim, untouched since Samael’s arrest, bed unmade, weapons still on the rack, a half-finished cup of tea gone cold on the desk.
Kael and Lucia stood near the wardrobe, both looking grim. Kael held a stack of sealed scrolls, while Lucia clutched a small wooden box.
Darius stopped just inside the threshold. “Did you find anything?”
Lucia sighed, shaking her head. “I’m disappointed in him, Darius. Truly.” She placed the box on the table and opened it. Inside were folded letters, vials of ink, and wax seals stamped with unfamiliar sigils. “We searched his study, his hidden drawer beneath the floorboard… even his travel satchel. All of it points to coordination with outsiders.”
Kael stepped forward, jaw tight. “If I hadn’t seen those letters myself, the ones detailing Vagus’s planned attacks on our eastern border, signed with Samael’s cipher, I'd lay down my neck to swear he was innocent. But this…” He gestured to the box. “This is betrayal written in his own hand.”
Darius picked up one of the letters, scanning it quickly. His expression didn’t change, but his fingers tightened around the parchment. “I knew there were patterns,” he said quietly. “Small things. Missed patrols. Leaked routes. I just wanted to be sure.”
He gathered the boxes, stacking them under one arm. “Thanks. I’ll take these to Fernando.”
Lucia looked at him, eyes troubled. “Do you really think he did it?”
Darius didn’t answer. He just turned and left.
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Fernando was in his office, standing by the window, back turned, when Darius entered without announcement. He dropped the boxes onto the desk with a heavy thud.
Fernando didn’t turn. Didn’t look. “If you’re here to talk about sending Samael to the Southern Ember Pack,” he said, voice flat, “save your breath.”
“I’m not,” Darius replied. “I’m here because you’re letting your weak delulu heart override your duty as Alpha.”
Fernando finally turned. His eyes were dark, dangerous. “Watch your words.”
“I’m stating facts,” Darius shot back. “Those boxes contain proof letters, maps, coded messages linking Samael to Vagus’s insurgency. He didn’t just kill Eliana. He’s been feeding our weaknesses to our enemies for years.”
Fernando stepped closer, voice low. “Or someone made it look that way. You’ve seen how easily evidence can be forged. You forged the accusation yourself to appease the south.”
“This isn’t forged!” Darius slammed a hand on the box. “This is real. And if you ignore it, you’re not protecting the pack, you're dooming it.”
Before Fernando could respond, the door burst open.
A guard stood in the doorway, breathless. “Alpha! The elders have arrived. They’re demanding an audience about Samael’s trial.”
Fernando straightened, jaw set. He glanced at Darius, then away.
“Don’t follow me,” he said coldly. “And I don’t want to see you for now.”
He strode past Darius without another word and left the office, the door clicking shut behind him.
Darius stood alone in the silence, fists clenched, staring at the boxes on the desk.
Darius stormed down the corridor, fury burning in his chest like wildfire. His boots struck the stone with sharp, angry echoes. He didn’t slow as he approached the underground cell block—didn’t hesitate when the four guards stationed outside Samael’s door stepped forward.
One raised a hand. “Beta, you can’t go in. The Alpha’s orders are clear you’re forbidden from seeing him.”
Darius stopped. His eyes, cold and sharp as shattered glass, swept over them. “Do you wish to lose your lives,” he asked, voice dangerously quiet, “or live with broken ribs?”
The guards exchanged uneasy glances. They knew Darius. Knew his temper. Knew what he’d done to wolves who crossed him.
Still, one of them stood firm. “Alpha’s word is law.”
Darius moved faster than any of them expected.
He grabbed the nearest guard by the throat, lifted him off his feet, and snapped his neck with a single, brutal twist. The body dropped to the floor with a sickening thud.
The other three froze for half a second then scrambled backward, tripping over each other in their haste to get away.
Darius didn’t watch them flee. He turned to the cell door, drew his dagger, and jammed it into the lock. With a sharp twist and a kick, the mechanism gave way.
The door creaked open.
Inside, Samael lay on a narrow cot, covered only by a thin blanket. His breathing was shallow, his face pale, his left hand wrapped in bloodstained bandages missing a finger. At the sound of the door, he stirred, blinking slowly as he pushed himself upright with obvious effort.
His eyes focused on Darius.
“You,” he whispered, voice hoarse.
Darius smirked, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. “I knew Fernando would send someone to treat you. Sentimental fool.”
Samael leaned against the wall, wincing. “Why are you so bent on having me killed?”
“Because I don’t believe in keeping traitors alive,” Darius said flatly. “And you’re one. You’ve been feeding secrets to Vagus. You poisoned Alberto. You murdered Eliana. And now you’re using your ‘bond’ with Fernando to manipulate him into sparing you.”
Samael stared at him, disbelief mixing with pain. “How are you so sure I did it?”
“Tons of evidence,” Darius said, crossing his arms. “Letters. Maps. Cipher logs. All signed with your seal. All pointing to months of coordination with our enemies. Sooner or later, the council will see it. And you’ll be brought to justice.”
Samael swallowed hard. “Will you sign my death petition?”
Darius smiled a cold, cruel thing. “With pleasure.”
He turned toward the door. “I came to bid you goodbye. Consider this your last visit from your family.”
He took one step.
“Darius,” Samael called out, voice trembling. “Weren’t we brothers? We shared the same parents. Grew up under the same roof. Fought side by side since we were pups…”
Darius stopped. Slowly, he turned back.
His eyes burned with something darker than anger, something old, buried, festering.
“I was never your brother,” he said, voice low and venomous. “You were just some stray my father picked up out of pity. A wolf with no name, no blood, no right to stand beside us. And if you’d ever seen reality clearly, you’d know that too.”
He turned again, hand on the door.
“Start seeing it now. Before they drag your corpse through the gates.”
And with that, he walked out, slamming the door behind him.
Alone in the cell, Samael slumped back against the wall. His breath hitched. Tears welled in his eyes silent, hot, shameful.
He whispered into the dark, voice breaking.
“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…”
And the tears fell, one after another, onto the bloodstained floor.