Chapter 5 Golden Veins
Rhea POV
The war room of Haven-9 smelled like old paper, candle smoke, and secrets.
We stepped inside and the sound swallowed us, the soft rustle of parchment, the scratch of quills, and the low hum of enchanted lamps casting amber light over maps pinned to the walls.
Shelves of cracked tomes lined the circular chamber, each one filled with spells, records, and half forgotten wars. At the center stood a massive round table carved with the rebellion’s mark, the phoenix feather etched deep into the wood. Candles burned low along its edge, dripping wax onto maps marked with red threads and black pins.
The place looked more like a scholar’s tomb than a commander’s office.
Seven pairs of eyes lifted when Maris and I entered.
Two other Ghosts leaned against the far wall, Ryn, a grizzled veteran with a knife tucked behind each sleeve, and Kessa, the youngest of us, still thin from starvation but fast as lightning. The two Cinders occupied the opposite side of the table, their faces half-hidden by illusion veils that shimmered faintly when they moved.
And at the head sat Commander Solen Vare, his silver hair cut close, and the left half of his face a melted ruin. He looked up from a spread of reports, the candlelight catching the burn scars and making them glow.
“Ghost,” he said, his voice quiet but sharp enough to cut air. “Alive after all.”
I gave him a lazy salute. “Sorry to disappoint.”
“Sit.”
It wasn’t a suggestion.
I dropped into the nearest chair. Maris stayed standing beside me, her hands clasped behind her back like she hadn’t spent two nights watching me nearly stop breathing. The two Ghosts shared a glance. The older one, Ryn, muttered, “Told you she’d crawl back.”
“Lucky guess,” Kessa whispered.
Solen didn’t look up. “Report.”
Maris straightened. “Mission at grid D-4 failed, sir. Wolf convoy larger than expected. We neutralized six guards, freed three cages of prisoners before Alpha contact. Casualties, five confirmed, two missing.”
“And you?” His gaze slid to me.
“Got bit,” I said. “Didn’t die.”
That earned a few raised eyebrows. Cinders didn’t show much expression, but even their illusions flickered.
Ryn grunted. “A bite? From an Alpha? And you’re still breathing?”
“Apparently.” I shrugged. “Guess I’m lucky.”
Solen’s eyes sharpened. “Luck doesn’t heal a wolf’s venom. Their bites carry magic older than this rebellion. Humans rot within minutes.”
“Guess I’m a trendsetter.”
Maris shot me a look that screamed stop talking. I ignored it.
Solen stood, the movement slow and deliberate, and circled the table until he was directly behind me. The air shifted with him, the hum of authority, and the weight of command. He stopped close enough for me to smell the faint tang of smoke and metal that always clung to him.
“Show me,” he said.
I hesitated. “Commander...”
“That wasn’t a request.”
With a sigh, I pulled my collar aside. The bandage had slipped during the walk, and faint gold veins still traced the skin, glowing softly like buried light. The room went very still.
Kessa whispered, “That’s not infection.”
“Quiet,” Solen said. His fingers brushed the air near my shoulder but didn’t touch. “Heat?”
“Constant,” I said. “Like a bad fever.”
“Pain?”
“No.” I paused. “Just… movement.”
His brow furrowed. “Movement.”
“It beats.” The words slipped out before I could stop them. “Like another heartbeat.”
A long silence followed. Ryn swore under his breath. One of the Cinders leaned forward, their veil rippling. “That’s impossible,” he said. “Alpha venom kills, it doesn’t bond.”
“Then we’re in new territory,” Solen murmured.
He circled back to the table, resting his scarred hand on the carved phoenix feather. “Four hundred years ago the rift opened. The Dominion Pact rose from our defeat. We’ve spent generations trying to mimic their magic, serums, relics, and blood experiments. None of it worked. If this bite changed you...”
“It didn’t,” I cut in. “I’m still me.”
His gaze found mine. Calm, analytical, and fucking unsettling. “Are you?”
The question hung there, thick as smoke. My mouth went dry. Maris shifted beside me, ready to defend, but Solen raised a hand to stop her.
“I’m not accusing,” he said softly. “I’m considering possibilities.”
“Consider somewhere else,” I muttered.
That earned the faintest smile. “You sound like me thirty years ago.”
He turned to the others. “The Ghost team will stand down for forty-eight hours. I want blood samples, scans, and rune readings. If there’s contamination, we isolate it.”
“Commander...” I started.
He held up a finger. “You’ll also rest.”
“Rest is for corpses. You need me out there.”
“I need you alive,” he said, still calm. “For now.”
Maris’s jaw tightened. “Sir, she’s stable.”
“For now,” he repeated.
The Cinders exchanged glances. Ryn smirked. “Maybe the Alpha’s magic liked her.”
I gave him a glare. “You volunteering to test that theory?”
He grinned wider. “Tempting.”
Solen’s voice sliced through before it could devolve. “Enough. Dismissed.”
The others hesitated, Cinders first, then the Ghosts. They filed out slowly, whispers trailing behind them. The heavy door thudded shut, leaving just the three of us. The silence buzzed against my skin.
Solen poured a measure of dark liquid into a glass from a decanter on the shelf. “You’ve always been reckless,” he said, offering it to me. “Drink.”
I took it and sniffed. “What is it?”
“Something to keep the fever down.”
“Or poison.”
“Both, depending on your attitude.”
I drank. It burned, then cooled. My shoulder throbbed once in reply. “So what now?”
He studied me over the rim of his own glass. “You tell me. What did you feel when he bit you?”
“Pain.” I met his eyes. “And hate.”
“No flash of magic? No voices? No visions?”
I shook my head. “Just teeth.”
He hummed quietly. “Then it’s only beginning.”
Maris frowned. “You think it’s magic?”
“I think,” Solen said, “that nature doesn’t waste energy on miracles. Whatever spared her, it has purpose.”
“Commander,” I said, setting down the glass, “I’m not anyone’s experiment.”
His expression softened, barely. “No. You’re my soldier. That’s worse.”
That earned half a smile from me. “Still charming.”
He moved toward the shelves, pulling a worn map free and spreading it across the table. “There’s movement in the northern corridors. Dragon scouts. We’ll need reconnaissance before we risk a strike. A simple job. Observation only.”
I recognized the tone. This was the mission you gave to a soldier you didn’t trust yet. “Observation, huh? You sure you don’t want me to just smile at them until they drop dead?”
Maris hissed. “Rhea.”
Solen ignored it. “You leave at dawn.Take Maris and one Cinder. You will not engage.”
I nodded, though every muscle itched to argue. The heartbeat in my shoulder pulsed again, steady, and alien. Solen’s eyes flicked toward it, and for a moment I swore he could hear it too.
He set the map aside. “Go prepare.”
Maris saluted. I stood, stretching my neck. “You know, Commander, you could at least pretend you’re glad I lived.”
“I am,” he said simply. “But survival isn’t victory.”
We started toward the door. His voice stopped us.
“Rhea.”
I turned.
He studied me in the candlelight, the scars on his face catching gold. “The fire always leaves marks,” he said. “Make sure yours don’t spread.”
The room felt colder after that.
Maris exhaled softly as we stepped back into the corridor. “He’s worried about you.”
“Join the club.”
We walked through the tunnels toward the barracks. The hum of the generators mixed with voices, footsteps, and life. Haven-9 never slept. My shoulder pulsed again, a rhythm not my own, whispering through my blood.
I ignored it. For now