Chapter 30 Teeth & Treachery
Rhett POV
The council chamber reeked of smoke and politics. Same thing, really.
Maps and reports covered the table, trade routes, troop counts, and the newest problem: Aryen, my charming cousin, the self-proclaimed Alpha of the Meat Markets. He’d been growing bold lately, sending his lackeys to whisper in my council’s ears. Promising blood, profit, and power. Always in that order.
“He’s circling,” Garran said, his voice low. “The southern packs are restless. Half of them already owe Aryen for his blood deals.”
I leaned back in my chair, rubbing a hand over my jaw. “And the other half?”
“They’re watching you,” Garran said. “Waiting to see if you flinch.”
Kaen growled inside me, the sound a vibration of fury. "Let him come. I’ll tear his throat out myself."
“Not yet,” I muttered under my breath.
Garran raised a brow. “What?”
“Nothing,” I said. “You’re right. We can’t afford to look weak.”
“We also can’t afford to parade that woman through the halls,” Garran countered. “If Aryen catches wind that she’s here...”
“He won’t,” I snapped. Then softer, “He can’t.”
I pushed up from the chair and crossed to the window. The Wildlands stretched out below, all mist and shadow, the forests breathing in the distance. Somewhere in those woods, Aryen’s pack was building its empire of flesh and silver. Selling humans to vampires, slaves to dragons.
He called it trade. I called it treason.
“She’s the reason they’re coming,” Garran said carefully. “You know that, right? The moment she set foot in this castle, the dominions started watching.”
I stared out the window. “Then let them watch.”
“Rhett...”
“I’ll deal with Aryen,” I said. “Keep the southern packs busy. Tell them there’s an upcoming tribute run, and make it sound lucrative enough that they can’t resist. And keep their eyes off the castle.”
Garran sighed but nodded. “You’re buying time.”
“That’s all we need.”
He gathered his papers, saluted, and left. The door clicked shut behind him, the quiet almost a relief, until another sound split the silence.
The door slammed open again.
Not Garran.
“Lira.”
She swept in like frost through a fire, her silver gown glinting in the light. Pale hair braided tight, her lips curved in a smile that never reached her eyes.
“My king,” she said sweetly. “You’ve been avoiding me.”
Kaen roared in my skull. "Get her out."
I bit back the urge to snarl. “You don’t belong in this room.”
“Oh, come now,” she purred. “Once upon a time, I belonged everywhere you were.”
“That time’s gone.”
Her smile sharpened. “So I’ve heard. The whispers say there’s someone new.”
I didn’t answer.
Her gaze slid over the table, catching on the map of the southern borders. “Aryen’s moving against you. You know he won’t stop until he has the throne.”
“I’m aware.”
“And yet,” she said, turning toward me, “you’ve locked yourself away. Distracted. Neglecting your council.”
Kaen’s growl deepened. "She’s stalling. She wants to see if we’ll bite."
“Say what you came to say,” I told her.
Her expression softened, or tried to. “You used to trust me.”
“I used to think you were worth trusting.”
That landed. The temperature in the room seemed to drop. “Careful, Rhett,” she said quietly. “You might forget who helped you hold this throne in the first place.”
“I don’t forget anything.”
She stepped closer, close enough that I could smell her, snow, silver, and ambition. “Then remember who’s still loyal. Aryen’s offering alliances to anyone who’ll listen. I can help you keep your crown.”
I met her gaze, unflinching. “You already picked your side.”
Her mask cracked, just slightly. “He’s not you.”
“Damn right he’s not.”
Silence stretched between us, brittle as glass. She recovered quickly, smoothing her gown, her voice all sweet venom again. “Then tell me, my Alpha, what is she to you? The Ghost? A trophy? A pet?”
My hands curled into fists. “That’s none of your concern.”
“Isn’t it?” Her eyes glittered with cruel delight. “Because when the council learns you’ve taken a human, a rebellion spy, into your bed, they’ll tear you apart. You’ll lose the packs, the throne, everything. And she’ll be the reason.”
Kaen thundered inside me. "End this."
I took a step forward, letting my shadow fall over hers. “You don’t speak her name in this room.”
Her smile faltered, just for a second. “So it’s true,” she whispered. “You’ve bonded.”
I didn’t confirm it. I didn’t have to. The fire in my eyes told her enough.
Lira exhaled slowly, her expression turning icy again. “Then you’ve already lost.”
“Get out.”
“Rhett...”
“I said out.”
The force in my voice hit like a physical blow. She flinched, the wolf in her bending instinctively to the Alpha command. For a heartbeat, fury flashed across her face, but she turned, spine stiff, and left without another word.
When the door slammed behind her, Kaen’s voice rumbled through my head again, dark and satisfied. "She’s dangerous."
“I know,” I muttered, dragging a hand over my face.
"She’ll betray you."
“I know that too.”
I sank back into the chair, staring at the fire dancing in the hearth. The flames twisted gold, Rhea’s color. Her heartbeat still echoed faintly in my chest, grounding me, maddening me.
Let Aryen plot. Let Lira whisper.
I’d tear down every pack in the Wildlands before I let them touch her.
And if that meant war, then so be it.
______________________
Lord Malrec POV
The horses reeked of fear. It clung to their sweat like incense as the caravan wound its way through the gray woods of the Wildlands. Every gust carried wolf scent, earth, rain, and dominance. It made my fangs ache.
The King had gone mad.
I had served Nox for three centuries. I’d watched him rise from noble bastard to Vampire King, cutthroat and brilliant, a god in silk and shadow. But lately? He’d been… distracted. Brooding over some human woman he drained in a battle he shouldn’t have been near. A rebellion scrap, just another corpse. And yet he whispered her name like a prayer.
Rhea.
I spat it into the dirt. “A name for a disease,” I muttered.
The wind carried no reply, only the echo of hooves and my own disgust.
My soldiers, five of the Night Guard, masked and silent, rode behind me, their mirrored helms catching the half-moon. They were loyal to Nox, or at least they thought they were. But loyalty fades when kings start bleeding weakness.
He’d sent me here to “inquire” about the Ghost. To ask the wolves if she lived. The absurdity of it made my jaw tighten.
I didn’t ask. I took.
If she was alive, I would find her. And when I returned, I would decide whether to tell Nox the truth, or put a stake through his gilded heart myself.
He’d forgotten what the Obsidian Court was built on. Not passion. Not mercy. Control. Blood owed to blood. The weak feed the strong. Always.
But this fixation, this woman, it was eroding him from the inside.
I slowed my horse, gazing toward the horizon where the wolf castle rose like black teeth against the night. “You’ve lost your edge, old friend,” I said softly. “And when kings go soft, courts devour them.”
A crow called overhead. An omen, maybe.
I smiled. “Let the wolves keep their secret. Let the king keep his ghost.”
My fangs slid free, glinting in the dark. “When I return, the throne will be mine.”