Chapter 126 — Prisoners of War

Chapter 126 — Prisoners of War
The wind was bitter when Cass and Caius stepped out of the ruined tower. The once-imposing structure behind them smoldered in silence, broken stone and shattered runes humming with the residue of a battle that had scorched more than just earth.

Caius didn’t reach for her hand. He didn’t try to guide her. He simply walked beside her, silent but present. Every inch of him still buzzed with the rawness of the argument they had left behind, the weight of her grief coiled tightly in his chest like a second heartbeat.

Cass didn’t speak either. Her arms were wrapped around herself, her hair tousled by the mountain winds, her face pale but composed in that way only someone freshly shattered could manage. Every step she took was deliberate. Measured. But her aura hummed with restraint—like the next wrong word would shatter her again.

Kalen was waiting for them.

The beta stood at the edge of the stone courtyard, flanked by Caius’s inner guard and a line of captured wolves. Dozens of them—some bloodied, others on their knees, stripped of weapons and pride. They wore Alder’s mark, but it no longer held power. Their eyes flicked upward only when they heard approaching footsteps, and some looked away as if ashamed.

When Kalen saw them approach, his expression tightened. “It’s done, then,” he said, though he didn’t need an answer.

Caius gave a stiff nod. “He’s dead.”

Cass flinched.

Kalen’s eyes flicked to her briefly before returning to Caius. “And the others?”

“Disarmed. Wards broken. They surrendered when Alder fell.”

Kalen looked over his shoulder at the defeated army. “Some of them will never submit. But others…” He hesitated. “They followed orders. They weren’t loyal. They were afraid.”

Cass’s voice cut through the wind like a blade. “Then make a distinction.”

Both men turned to her.

“Not everyone here chose to fight,” she continued, eyes fixed on the wolves lined before her. “Some of them were forced. Manipulated. Like I was.”

One of the guards shifted uncomfortably, and the silence that followed held the weight of truth.

Kalen studied her for a moment, then gave a sharp nod. “We’ll sort them. See who can be redeemed. Who can’t.”

Caius said nothing. He was watching her—watching the way she held herself like a queen even while her soul bled.

Cass stepped forward, her gaze moving over the prisoners. One of them—a girl no older than nineteen—lowered her eyes in shame when their gazes met. Another, an older male with deep scars, kept his head high, but his eyes flickered with uncertainty.

“Mercy,” Cass said softly, more to herself than anyone else. “It’s time we remember what that looks like.”

Kalen gave Caius a look—one that spoke volumes. A silent reminder that their queen saw something worth saving even among the broken.

Caius inhaled deeply and stepped forward. “We’ll take them to the eastern ridge. Set up a camp. They’ll be fed. Guarded. And questioned.”

Cass didn’t look at him. “And after that?”

“We decide who can stay. Who walks free. And who doesn’t walk at all.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line.

“Some of them will lie,” Kalen added. “They’ll say what they must to survive.”

“Then I’ll be the one to look them in the eyes,” Caius said. “And decide who’s worth the risk.”

Caius turned back to Kalen. “I’ll handle the final judgment myself.”

The beta nodded and began barking orders.

The prisoners were ushered into a line, some stumbling, others still proud in their silence. But none dared resist. Not anymore. The few who wavered found themselves met with Cass’s gaze—not harsh, but watchful. It made them uneasy.

Cass turned to look at the land around them. The mountain pass was steep and wind-swept, with patches of old snow clinging to shaded rock. The battle had left behind scorched earth and broken trees, and the stench of blood still lingered in the air.

She closed her eyes. “This place isn’t meant to hold life. Let’s not try to rebuild anything here.”

“No,” Caius agreed. “We bury what’s left. And then we leave it behind.”

Cass didn’t reply, but for the first time, she didn’t look like she was about to collapse.

The line of prisoners stretched longer than she had expected. Among them, she saw familiar faces—wolves who once trained beside her, others who had passed her in the halls of Alder’s stronghold. Some had mocked her. Others had pitied her. Now they were silent.

One man with blood drying in a streak down his temple raised his head to look at her and whispered, “I didn’t want this.”

Cass stared at him. “Then prove it,” she said. “Not with words. With your future.”

He nodded slowly, lips pressed tight.

Kalen returned. “The ridge is secure. We’ll need to set patrols overnight.”

“Do it,” Caius said. “Double the watches. Anyone who tries to flee…” He trailed off.

Kalen nodded grimly. “Understood.”

The soldiers dispersed. A few offered Cass cautious nods of respect as they passed. No one dared approach her, but all of them felt the shift. She had changed. The power radiating from her was no longer Alder’s captive queen. She stood beside their king, but not beneath him.

Caius stepped beside her, voice low but firm. “Set up camp for the night,” he ordered one of his guards. “We leave at first light. It’s time we take our people home.”

Cass finally turned to him. Her voice was tired, but sure. “Do you know where home even is anymore?”

Caius looked out at the fading horizon. “Wherever you are.”

She didn’t answer—but this time, she didn’t turn away.