Clava Pov
"The Riders returned while the court was assembling," she said, voice pitched low. "They found sigils carved into the stones around the ravine. Old runes. Blood magic. Dorian's not working alone."I clenched my hands.Rogues were one thing. Rebels another.But blood magic? That was a line even the most desperate packs didn't cross—unless they'd already given up their humanity."Where's the transcript?" I asked.Sora passed me a scroll, hastily copied. The runes were crude but unmistakable—words not spoken aloud in decades. Bind. Devour. Rend.He wasn't summoning allies.He was building an army."Aether-born magic," Ryker said quietly. "Forbidden.""No," I whispered. "Forgotten. Buried by the Elders when they realized it couldn't be controlled. But Dorian…" I looked up. "He was always more obsessed with control than victory."A silence fell. Heavy. Knowing.If he truly tapped into the ancient magics, he wasn't just preparing for war.He was preparing to remake the world.A sharp knock echoed across the hall.A guard entered, blood on his uniform, dragging a prisoner in silver manacles. The man's face was battered, but his eyes—glinting like obsidian—met mine with eerie calm."Found him near the lower ravine," the guard reported. "He was watching our patrol routes. Didn't run when approached."The man dropped to his knees, unbothered by the chains. "Your Majesty," he said smoothly, voice soaked in mockery. "You rise higher than any Queen before you… but even the tallest throne will crumble if the foundation rots.""Name," I snapped.He smiled. "Call me Silas. I speak for the Thorne."Gasps. A few growls. But I stepped forward, motioning for silence."Then speak, Silas. What message do you carry?"He tilted his head. "Dorian offers you one chance. Surrender the Northern Crown. Disband the packs. And you'll live. Perhaps even rule—under his dominion."Laughter broke from my throat—short, sharp, and edged like broken glass."Tell Dorian this," I said coldly. "I do not kneel. Not to ghosts. Not to kings. And not to traitors."Silas's smile faltered for the first time."You should be afraid," he hissed.I leaned closer, voice a whisper meant only for him. "I am. But not of Dorian Thorne. I'm afraid of what I'll become if he forces me to finish what Lucas started."Ryker stepped forward again. "Take him to the dungeons. Deep."The guards dragged Silas out, kicking and snarling.When the doors closed, I turned back to my court."There will be no negotiations. No treaties. We meet Dorian's blood with our own. And when he falls—because he will fall—let history mark it not as the end of an age, but the beginning of a reign."A reign carved not from tradition.But from vengeance.From defiance.From me.The war table was littered with maps, sealed letters, and fractured alliances.Dawn had yet to break when I summoned the inner circle—Ryker, Sora, Commander Hale, and Kira of the Whisperfangs. Four of the deadliest minds I trusted. And the only ones who wouldn't flinch at what I was about to propose."We strike first," I said, voice sharp in the cold stillness of the war chamber.Kira tilted her head, silver braid slipping over one shoulder. "Assassination?""No," I said. "Devastation."I pointed to the valley north of the Obsidian Range—uncharted by most, but I remembered the tunnels. The way they snaked like veins beneath the old ruins. "This is where Dorian's camp is gathering. Silas called himself a mouthpiece, which means the real generals are still in hiding."Hale frowned. "We don't have the numbers for a full siege.""We don't need a siege," Sora cut in. "We need disruption."Ryker met my gaze. "You're thinking of the Aether Cradle."I nodded once.The Aether Cradle was an ancient fissure buried deep in the mountain's heart. Raw, volatile energy pulsed there—too dangerous for use, too unstable to control. But if the tunnels were still connected…"We don't need to bring the mountain down," I said. "Just make it scream."They understood. The plan was insane. Risky. If the tunnels had collapsed or the cradle had shifted, we'd be walking into a tomb.But if we pulled it off, we'd cripple Dorian's forces. Cut them off. Force him out of the shadows."We send a small strike team," I continued. "No banners. No armor. Ghosts in the stone. We plant the charges, trigger a quake. Nothing lethal to us. But enough to shatter his momentum."Silence stretched as the weight of it settled.Then Ryker spoke."I'll go.""No," I said firmly. "You're too visible. If anything happens to you—""And if anything happens to you, this kingdom falls," he shot back.His voice wasn't angry. Just real. True.He wasn't wrong.But I didn't intend to sit back and let others bleed for me, either."I go too," Sora said. "I know the tunnels best. My father used them during the rogue wars."Hale grunted. "Then I'm your hammer. Someone has to carry the payload."Three. That was the number.Kira leaned back in her chair, watching me with sharp, unreadable eyes. "And me, Your Majesty?""You stay here," I said. "You're the contingency. If we don't return, you activate Phase Two. You send the Whisperfangs west. Dorian's lieutenants will try to scatter. Don't let them."She nodded once.Plans were drawn. Routes marked. Codes decided.The strike team would leave under moonlight, using the old traders' trail beyond the Blackmoor cliffs. No one else would know—not even the council.Because a Queen's gambit required more than power.It required secrecy.That night, I stood at the balcony again, watching the clouds drift like bruises over the stars.Ryker came to stand beside me. He didn't speak at first. He didn't have to."You think I'm reckless," I said."I think you're brave," he answered. "Which is sometimes worse."