Chapter 114 I Swear I Didn't Do It
The council chamber was thick with tension, the air heavy enough to choke on. The elders sat in a semi-circle, their faces carved from stone, eyes burning with accusation. Fernando stood at the center, alone, his Alpha’s cloak draped over broad shoulders, but for the first time, it offered no armor.
“Explain yourself,” Elder Vorn demanded, voice sharp as flint. “Why did you call for a trial? Samael is guilty. The evidence is overwhelming. He should be executed or handed to the Southern Ember Pack as promised.”
Fernando kept his voice steady. “Because I need certainty. What if the letters are forged? What if someone framed him?”
Elder Soje slammed a fist on the table. “Forged? You think we’re fools?” He gestured wildly to a stack of files on the desk. “Then tell us was this forged too?”
Before Fernando could respond, the elders erupted.
“No more excuses!”
“He betrayed your sister!”
“He killed Liana and her unborn pups!”
Papers flew through the air, landing at Fernando’s feet like accusations made flesh. One fluttered open near his boot a detailed ledger, signed in a hand that looked chillingly familiar.
Fernando bent slowly and picked it up.
His eyes scanned the page.
> Samael confirms coordination with Vagus. Target: Eastern Outpost. Objective: Kidnap Liana and destabilize Alpha succession. Payment: 200 silver marks and safe passage through the northern border.
His hand began to tremble.
Another line caught his eye:
> Food poisoning incident during Vagus raid executed by Samael via kitchen staff. Confirmed.
And lower:
> Darius’s ambush three moons past orchestrated by Samael to weaken inner guard loyalty.
Fernando’s breath hitched. His vision blurred. Liana his younger sister, gentle, fierce, carrying twins who had to lay down her life. And the attack that nearly killed Darius… the sickness that felled half the guard corps…
All traced back to one name.
His Samael.
A guttural roar tore from Fernando’s throat. He whirled on the nearest guard. “Bring Darius. Now!”
\---
Minutes later, Darius strode into the chamber, calm, composed, as if he’d been expecting this.
“You called?” he asked, stopping just inside the doorway.
Fernando thrust the paper at him. “Explain this.”
Darius glanced at it, then met Fernando’s gaze. “It is what it is.”
“What does that mean?” Fernando snarled.
“It means Samael has been working with Vagus for years,” Darius said flatly. “Liana’s death? His design. My ambush? His plan. The food poisoning? His hand in the stew pot. He played us all especially you.”
Fernando’s chest heaved. His wolf surged beneath his skin, claws pricking at his fingertips. Without another word, he turned and stormed out, papers clutched in his fist like a death warrant.
\---
He reached the cell in seconds, fury driving every step. He threw the door open so hard it cracked against the wall.
Samael looked up from the cot, eyes wide with exhaustion and confusion.
Fernando hurled the papers at him. “Tell me this is a lie!”
Samael scrambled to catch them, fingers fumbling over the pages. As he read, his face drained of color. “No… no, Fernando, I swear I never did this! I didn’t know about Liana! I would never—”
“Don’t lie to me!” Fernando roared, voice breaking. Tears streamed down his face, hot and shameful. “She was my sister! She carried my nephews! And you… you used her death as a stepping stone? For what? Power? Revenge?”
Samael shook his head violently, tears welling in his own eyes. “I knew nothing! I swear on my wolf, on my blood I didn’t do this!”
But Fernando wasn’t listening.
The grief, the betrayal, the rage it all collapsed into one unbearable truth.
“You were my brother,” Fernando whispered, voice cracking. “What did I ever do to deserve this?”
His wolf surged forward.
Gold flooded his eyes. Fangs lengthened. In a blur of motion, he lunged at Samael, hands closing around his throat.
Samael gasped, clawing at Fernando’s wrists, but the Alpha’s grip was iron.
From the doorway, Darius shouted, “Fernando, stop!”
He rushed in but Fernando, lost to his wolf, backhanded him without looking. Darius crashed into the far wall, sliding to the floor with a grunt.
Fernando tightened his grip. Samael’s face turned red, then purple. His eyes rolled back
“Fernando.”
The voice was soft. Calm. But it cut through the rage like a blade.
Fernando froze.
Slowly, he turned.
Alberto stood in the doorway, barefoot, wrapped in a thin robe, his eyes shimmering not gold, not silver, but a swirling storm of colors: sapphire, emerald, violet, gold. Like starlight given form.
Fernando’s wolf retreated instantly, as if scalded.
He released Samael, who collapsed onto the cot, coughing, gasping for air.
Fernando turned fully to Alberto, relief flooding his chest. “You’re awake…”
But Alberto didn’t smile. Didn’t run to him.
He stepped back.
His eyes those impossible, beautiful eyes narrowed in cold disappointment.
Fernando’s heart dropped. “Alberto… What's wrong? What did I do?”
Alberto didn’t answer. He simply turned his back and walked away, robes whispering against the stone.
Fernando stood frozen, staring after him, confusion twisting into dread.
Darius groaned from the floor, pushing himself up. “Alpha…”
Fernando blinked, then straightened, jaw tightening. He turned to Darius, voice hollow. “Follow me.”
Back in the main hall, Fernando addressed the waiting guards and elders, his voice stripped of emotion.
“Samael will be given a brutal death. Public. In three days. Let the packs know betrayal ends here.”
Darius bowed his head. “I’ll broadcast it.”
He paused, then added with a small, satisfied smile, “Don’t dwell too much on the betrayal, Alpha. Some wolves were always meant to rot.”
Fernando didn’t respond immediately. His mind was elsewhere on Alberto’s retreating back, on those multicolored eyes full of judgment.
“Why did he look at me like that?” Fernando asked quietly. “Like I’m the monster?”
Darius shrugged. “I didn’t even know he’d woken up. Maybe he’s just throwing tantrums. Go see him. Smooth things over.”
Fernando nodded slowly, but doubt coiled in his gut.
Because Alberto didn’t throw tantrums.
And those eyes… they hadn’t looked at him with anger.
They’d looked at him with knowledge.
As if he’d seen something Fernando hadn’t.
As if the real betrayal wasn’t in the cell below but standing right here, wearing the face of loyalty.
But Fernando pushed the thought away.
He had a traitor to execute.
And a mate to win back.
Even if it cost him his soul.