Chapter 56

Chapter 56
Dax

The forest swallowed me whole, like it had been waiting for me.

Gone were the screams of the ballroom, the flicker of firelight on marble, and the taste of blood in the air. Here, the darkness was still. Heavy. But not quiet. Not to me. It was like the forest wanted me to hear what others didn't, like it was guiding me, bringing me in deeper.

Every crack of a branch beneath my boot, every rustle of leaf overhead, every heartbeat in the earth... I heard it. Felt it. I had been trained for this. Born for this. The wolf blood in me ran deep. But the Guardian in me ran deeper.

I moved with purpose, following the trail left behind by those who hadn’t expected to be hunted. Those who thought they were above us all.

A shred of black cloth caught on a thorn. Muddy boot prints twisted toward the old outer corridor. And then... the scent.

Oiled steel. Cold magic. And something worse.

Fear.

I followed it.

The tunnels that wrapped beneath the Summit grounds had been built generations ago, long forgotten by most—not me, not my family. They had always been used in times of war or secrecy, both of which applied now.

I activated the mindlink again. “Status.”

One by one, my scattered scouts responded. Some still in pursuit. Some injured. One dead.

“They split into three groups,” Mara’s voice was sharp with adrenaline. “Two decoys. One led toward the mountain ridge.”

The ridge. That meant caves. And the old smuggler route.

“Keep tailing the decoys. I’ll take the ridge,” I replied. “If I don’t check in within the hour, assume the worst.”

“Understood.”

The mindlink cut. I ran.

It wasn’t just instinct pushing me now. It was a bone-deep certainty that these weren’t random saboteurs. This wasn’t a ploy for power or territory. This was coordinated betrayal, and someone had paid for it in blood. We had known that someone had been working in the shadows, casting doubt on Kael, spreading fear about the magic a Nightshade could wield. But we weren't able to pinpoint where the threat was coming from before the summit started.

I reached the mouth of the ridge trail and slowed.

The air here was wrong. It was like old magic had been disturbed and twisted, like a manipulation of what was good and right, something that shouldn't be possible.

The tracks were fresher. Heavier. Whoever passed through here wasn’t moving fast. They weren’t worried about being followed.

Which meant they believed they were protected.

I drew both blades.

I pressed my hand to the jagged rock wall and muttered an old phrase, a Guardian’s tongue. The stone shimmered faintly. It remembered us. Even now. It remembered my family, our blood. Our oath.

It parted for me.

The tunnel opened to a jagged corridor lit by torchlight. I stepped inside, silent as death.

I counted four voices. Male. The weight in their movements suggested they came prepared. Armed.

But it was the fifth that caught my breath.

A whisper of silk. A gloved hand clasped behind his back. A voice smooth as snowmelt and twice as cold.

Lord Halrick.

Not Dareth.

Halrick, one of the lords who had spoken to Kael before the Summit. One of the many who brought his perfect daughter with her perfect smile. The one who had publicly supported Kael’s claim while privately casting doubt on Aria’s right to draw breath.

He had been one of the loudest voices in the ballroom... and now here he was.

Plotting.

How did he get here so fast?

I crouched at the edge of the corridor, half-hidden behind crumbling stone. Close enough to see the map, they spread it over a table. Close enough to hear the names they spoke. The war they were plotting.

"She wasn’t supposed to survive the first attack," one man muttered. "And then we let her survive the second! And now she’s declared herself sovereign. The court’s rattled."

"Let her rattle," Halrick replied. "A cage can shake before it breaks. We’ll shatter it on the next blow."

"What of Thorne? Dareth failed. He won't survive the fallout."

Halrick chuckled. "Dareth was always disposable. I gave him enough rope to hang himself. He served his purpose as a distraction. Delay. The real strike comes after her coronation, once the lines are drawn. We need her alone. Exposed."

Another man stepped forward. A mage, his fingers glowing faintly. "We’ve prepared the hex marks. The ones we seeded in the old wood. They’ll activate on her next crossing. If she walks that path again, she dies."

Halrick nodded. "Then let her walk. And when she does, she’ll fall like her mother did. Burn like her whole family did."

A pulse of rage slammed into my ribs.

They knew.

They had always known.

"Next time," Halrick said, voice low, deliberate, "we aim for the girl. No theatrics. Just a clean kill."

I moved.

My blades sang.

The first two guards didn’t have time to scream. The third grazed my shoulder before I cut him down. The fourth ran. I let him. Let him carry the fear back with him.

But Halrick—

He tried to flee into the deeper tunnel. Coward.

I tackled him to the stone, one blade to his throat, the other ready.

“You picked the wrong bloodline to cross,” I growled.

He gurgled. “You... you're one of Kael’s—”

“Not tonight.” I sneared.

I slammed the hilt of my blade against his temple. Just enough to knock him out. Not enough to silence him for good.

He would talk. He would beg.

He would face the court.

And when he did, the truth would burn brighter than any torchlight.

As I dragged his unconscious form from the tunnel and into the night air, I looked to the stars above.

Aria had chosen the light.

Kael stood at the crossroads.

And me?

I walked the line between shadow and flame.

But tonight, I had chosen.

And I would not waver.