Chapter 65 The Armory Gambit

Chapter 65 The Armory Gambit


The sounds of the Great Hall—the shouts of the Elders and the heavy boots of the wolves—faded as I sprinted down the servants' staircase. My lungs burned, not from the silver chalice this time, but from the raw, cold air of the lower levels.

In the original script, this was the "Chaos at the Gates" chapter. While Kieran and Rowan were occupied with the distraction at the eastern wall, a small human strike team was supposed to slip through the drainage tunnels and infiltrate the armory. Their goal wasn't just to steal weapons; it was to set the black powder stores on fire, effectively blowing the North's defenses into the sky.

I hadn't memorized the layout of the pipes, but I remembered the description of the armory’s iron door: A slab of cold metal hidden behind the laundry vats.

"Lena! The keys!" I hissed as we skidded into the damp laundry room.

Lena, white-faced and trembling, reached into the pocket of her apron and pulled out a heavy ring of iron keys. As a head maid, she had access to the service corridors the Alphas didn't even know existed. "My Lady, we shouldn't be here. The guards... the Alpha said the tunnels—"

"The tunnels are exactly where they want us to go, Lena. It’s a trap."

I snatched the keys and fumbled with the lock of the heavy iron door. My fingers were slick with sweat. If I was even a minute late, the fuse would already be lit.

Click.

The door swung open with a mournful groan. The armory was a cavernous space filled with the scent of oil, steel, and something sharper—sulfur. Boxes of black powder were stacked against the far wall, right next to the support pillars of the Great Hall above.

And standing over them, torch in hand, was a man I hadn't seen in this life yet.

Mattias.

He wasn't the "terrorist" the Alphas described. He was a man in his late forties, his face a map of scars and weariness. He wore the rough leathers of a woodsman, but he held the torch with the steady hand of a general. Behind him, three other men were frantically prying open the crates.

"That's far enough," I said, my voice echoing through the stone chamber.

Mattias spun around, the torch light casting long, dancing shadows across his face. He lowered the flame slightly, his eyes narrowing as they landed on my gown, then my face. "A noblewoman? Or just the Alpha’s favorite pet?"

"Neither," I said, stepping into the room. I felt the jagged white light from the trial pulsing under my skin again. "I'm the one who knows you're about to make a mistake."

Mattias laughed, a dry, hollow sound. "The mistake was the wolves thinking they could rule us forever. This stronghold falls tonight. For every human village burned, the North pays in ash."

"If you light that powder, you aren't just killing wolves, Mattias. You're killing the women and children in the infirmary directly above us. You're killing Lena." I gestured to the trembling girl behind me. "Is that the 'justice' the rebellion promised?"

Mattias hesitated. In the book, he didn't have this conversation. He was just a shadowy figure I saw from a distance as the building exploded. But here, face to face, the "Villain" looked human.

"Who are you?" he demanded. "How do you know my name?"

"I'm Iris. And I'm the only person who can get you out of here alive before the Alphas realize you didn't go for the southern gate." I took another step forward, ignoring the way his men raised their crossbows. "You want freedom, Mattias? You won't find it in a pile of rubble. You'll find it in an alliance."

"Alliance with monsters?" one of the men spat.

"No. An alliance with me."

Suddenly, the stone floor above us shook with a deafening roar. The silver cannons had started their work. Dust rained down from the ceiling, coating the black powder crates in a fine grey grit.

"They're early," I whispered.

"The fuse!" Mattias shouted to his men, his eyes snapping back to the crates. "Forget the talk! Light it now!"

"Mattias, don't!" I lunged forward, but I wasn't fast enough.

The torch hit the trail of powder.

But instead of a roar of flame, the room was suddenly filled with that blinding, artificial white light. Time seemed to stutter, like a skipping DVD. I saw the Author's silhouette for a fraction of a second, her stylus poised over the tablet, her face twisted in a look of sheer annoyance.

The fire didn't catch. The powder simply... dissolved into white ash.

Mattias stared at the empty trail in disbelief. I stared at my hands. They were glowing brighter than the torch.

"The story doesn't want you to die yet, Mattias," I whispered, the cold weight in my chest becoming a numbing frost. "And neither do I."

Before he could respond, the armory door was kicked off its hinges. Kieran burst in, his claws fully extended, his eyes a terrifying, murderous red. He didn't see the ash. He didn't see the light.

All he saw was a human with a torch standing over his mate.

"Kieran, no!" I screamed.