Kieran's POV

Alistair's boots scraped against the floor as he instinctively moved back, two steps of retreat that betrayed the fear already clouding his eyes. His shoulders stiffened, his body trembling with that instinctive prey response

I didn't move. My feet remained where they were planted, shoulders loose, posture unyielding, unmoved and unfazed, as if the captain's presence was no more than a shift in the wind.

The captain's gaze locked onto me. His face was older, lined with years of war and bloodshed, but his voice carried the same authority that once echoed across battlefields. "You? I know you," he snarled, his eyes narrowing to a predatory gleam. "I've seen you before, from afar, in battle. About a decade ago." His lips curled, fangs peeking through. "Now you're grown, and I see your arrogance has grown with you. How dare you step into Crimson Hunt territory, Kieran Valerius Hunter?"

Alistair's ragged breathing filled the silence for a moment, but I didn't spare him a glance. My voice was even, controlled, each word precise. "Stay by the door, Alistair."

He obeyed without protest, pressing himself back against the heavy oak door

The captain's claws flexed around the hilt of his blade. A harsh, guttural laugh tore from him, the kind of laugh that tried to cover the rising anger beneath. "Are you actually prepared to fight me? Me?" He took a deliberate step forward, lowering his blade to his side but keeping it ready. His grin widened. "You Royal Lycans, with your empty pride."

I tilted my head, eyes fixed on him with cold detachment. "Enough of the words, Captain. Come closer, and I'll show you how empty my pride really is."

That shattered whatever composure he had been clinging to. Rage twisted his face, his body twitching as his transformation edged closer. His fangs slid fully out, gleaming under the dim light. His claws stretched, lengthening until they gleamed like obsidian talons. The leather grip of his blade creaked under the force of his tightened hold.

Then he lunged.

The floor groaned under the violent burst of speed as he blurred toward me, his crimson cloak snapping like a banner behind him, steel raised to carve into my chest. His snarl filled the air, raw and merciless.

But before he could reach me, I was gone.

Superspeeding past him, the world breaking into streaks of motion. My claws were already out, long, sharp, merciless. The strike came naturally, almost fluid, as if the outcome had been carved into fate itself. In one clean sweep, my claws slit across his throat, tearing flesh, muscle, and vein in a single instant.

I stopped behind him, silent, composed.

Blood dripped hot down my fingers, running between the grooves of my claws, staining them scarlet. Behind me, the captain froze mid-stride. His eyes went wide, his body locking in shock as the blade slipped from his grasp and clattered against the floor. A spray of crimson burst from the wound, painting Alistair and the door with violent beauty.

A strangled sound left his throat, gurgling, broken, before his knees buckled. The crimson sigil on his cloak darkened with fresh blood as his body collapsed, lifeless, to the ground.

I flexed my hand once, retracting my claws. Droplets spattered to the floor as I shook the excess off, the scent of iron clinging thick to the air. My breathing hadn't quickened. My pulse hadn't risen. The fight, if it could even be called that, was over before it began.

At the door, Alistair hadn't moved. His back pressed flat against the wood, his eyes wide, his chest rising and falling in uneven bursts. He looked at me as though I had transformed into something alien, something he could barely comprehend.

His voice was barely above a whisper, cracking under the weight of what he'd just seen. "You…. you just killed the captain of the Crimson Hunt army… in less than a second."

I turned, meeting his gaze without expression, my face an unshaken mask of calm. "That's what happens," I said evenly, my tone cutting through the heavy silence, "when you touch my woman! He touched Lorraine with his blade, he deserved worse"

Alistair's hands twitched nervously at his sides, and his eyes kept darting between me and the blood pooling beneath the captain's corpse.

"What… what do we do now?" he stammered. "If anyone finds out you killed the captain, we're as good as dead."

I wiped the last of the blood from my claws onto the crimson tunic I wore, my face calm, detached. "We'll be gone from here before they find out."

Alistair blinked at me in disbelief. "We?" His voice pitched higher with surprise

My eyes cut to him, sharp and cold. "You don't think I'd really leave you behind a second time, do you?"

That shut him up. His lips pressed together, though I saw the flicker of unease in his gaze.

"We'll get all the information we're looking for here," I continued "Then we get Lorraine and leave this place before they even discover their captain's body. Now get to searching, we don't have much time."

The tension in the room shifted. Alistair gave a quick nod and forced himself to move, though his steps were shaky at first. He pulled open drawers, rifling through parchments, eyes scanning every page with frantic speed. I moved to the heavy oak desk, tossing aside scrolls and folders, my senses sharpened, listening always for the faintest sound outside the door.

It didn't take long. Within minutes, the shelves yielded what we needed, a thick, leather-bound book embossed with the crimson crest of the Hunt. Its pages detailed their patrol schedules with meticulous precision, routes mapped out through every corner of academy, times of shift changes, names of commanding officers. I flipped further and found their soldier count, neat tallies written in bold strokes, all stationed and drilled into ruthless efficiency. The artillery reports followed, crates of silver edged weaponry, siege bows, reinforced armor, their firepower listed down to the last blade. Everything. Every advantage they thought they had.

Alistair's voice shook with something between awe and panic as he read over my shoulder. "This… this is everything. If we get this out..."

"We will," I cut him off, my focus locked on the page. "This turns the odds."

But then my eyes caught on something else. A loose parchment tucked into the book, folded with deliberate care. I drew it out, smoothing it open.

Scrawled across the page in dark ink was a single word.

"Ritus Tenebris."

The hairs on the back of my neck prickled. That word, I had seen it before. Not recently, but somewhere deep in my memory. Old records, whispers buried in history. A ritual of some kind, I knew that much, but the details slid away like smoke every time I tried to grasp them. My instincts told me it wasn't something to ignore.

But I had no time to think about it. Not here. Not now.

I folded the note and slipped it inside my tunic.

"We've got what we came for," I said firmly. My gaze fell to the captain's lifeless body sprawled across the floor, his throat still gaping open, blood seeping through the cracks in the stone. That would not buy us long. "Help me move him."

Alistair paled, but obeyed. Together we dragged the corpse across the room, leaving a dark smear in our wake, and shoved it behind one of the tall bookshelves. The stench of iron thickened the air, but at least the body was hidden, for now.

I stepped back, surveying the office one last time. Everything looked untouched, aside from the faint, dark trail on the floor. It would have to do.

"Let's go," I muttered, voice low. "We're done here."

And without looking back, we slipped from the captain's office, shadows at our heels, the dawn rising fast outside these walls.

Lorraine's POV

I was curled up on the thin mattress, knees tucked against my chest, staring at nothing. My mind was a wasteland, empty, drained, silent in the worst way. I didn't know just how long I remained like that, the quiet pressing down on me like a suffocating weight. No wolf whisper, no plan, no strength left to claw at the walls. Just me, breathing in and out, waiting for…. what?

I didn't know anymore.

Then I heard it.

A soft click. The lock.

My heart stuttered in my chest. Adrian. He had promised he would be back, so I expected to see him, with that crooked smile and his awkward kindness, slipping in with food

The hinges groaned and the door opened.

But it wasn't Adrian.

It was Kieran.

For a moment I froze, breath lodged in my throat. Then my body moved before my mind caught up, I shot up from the bed and ran into him. My arm wrapped around his chest, and I pressed my face against him like I was afraid he might vanish if I blinked. I couldn't believe it, but the rush of relief flooding my chest was real. I was actually…. glad. Excited. To see him.

His arms came around me, firm, steady. Then his hand slid up to cup my face, forcing my eyes to meet his.

"I've got what we need, Lorraine," he said, voice low and urgent. "Alistair is already waiting for us at the shed by the gates. We have to leave now."

I blinked at him, startled. "Alistair?"

"Yes." He nodded once, sharp, as if cutting off questions before they could start. "It's not really a long story, but we don't have time right now. I killed the captain, and it's only a matter of time before they find his body. We have to leave before that happens."

He grabbed my hand, already turning me toward the door, his urgency pulling me forward.

But I didn't move.

His grip tightened when he realized I'd stopped. "Lorraine?"

"I…. I don't think we should leave yet."

He turned, eyes narrowing like he hadn't heard me right. "What?"

"I still have one more mission to complete before I leave." My voice trembled, but not from fear. I straightened my shoulders, meeting his gaze. "Your father. The Alpha King. I am yet to ask Adrian if he's still alive."

Kieran's jaw locked. His head shook once, hard. "I told you, Lorraine, that's not necessary. We need to go now."

"Just hear me out, okay?" I reached up and pressed my hand against his face, forcing him to look at me. His skin was warm, his expression carved from stone, but his eyes flickered. "I think I'm getting through to Adrian. He's going to be back here anytime from now, with food for me. I'll ask him then. And after that…. you can get me out."

"No, Lorraine…" His voice was rough, strained with something between frustration and fear. He shook his head again.

"Trust me on this." My voice dropped, softer but firm. "If your father is really alive, we need to find him, Kieran. We'll need him if we're going to win this war."

For a long moment, he said nothing. Just stared at me like he wanted to burn the idea out of me with his gaze. Then he sighed heavily

"One hour, Lorraine. That's all you have." His voice was sharp again, commanding. "I'll go and meet Alistair, tell him to go alone for now. I'll wait one hour, and whether Adrian comes back, or The Leader himself, I'll tear through all of them to get you."

Relief warmed my chest and I nodded quickly. "Noted, my King." The words left my lips with a small, tired smile I couldn't hold back.

Kieran's eyes softened at that, and for a fleeting second, his mask slipped. He leaned down, pressing his lips against my forehead.

"Be safe, little wolf," he murmured. Then he was gone, the door clicking shut behind him, leaving me with one hour and a heart pounding in my chest.