Princess's Revenge: Slave to the Soulbound King Chapter 124

Lycanthar

I led the team through the dungeon, navigating the winding passages. My golden eyes blazed with cold fury, with Draven close behind. Amidst the stench of stale blood and damp decay, I detected something else—a scent that didn't belong here. It was ancient and wrong, like rot cloaked in perfume.

As we approached Garrick's cell, heated voices drifted through the heavy air. "Morgana, you're insane! Breaking into the dungeons?" Garrick's voice carried a note of genuine alarm that made me pause.

A woman's voice responded, cold as winter steel: "Come with me now, or you'll die here."

I raised my hand, signaling the guards to halt. Through the iron bars, I could see movement—two figures locked in what appeared to be an urgent, whispered argument. One was unmistakably Garrick, his massive frame hunched forward. The other was a woman in dark robes, her back to us as she gripped his wrist, attempting to drag him toward a shadowed corner of the cell.

"Now!" I commanded.

The guards slammed into the heavy iron door with practiced efficiency. Metal shrieked against stone as the barrier gave way, and we poured into the cell like a silver tide of retribution.

The woman—Morgana—turned slowly, and what I saw froze the very air in my lungs. Her face wore an expression of cold amusement, as if she had been expecting us all along.

"My dear Wolf King," she said, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. "You're faster than I anticipated, but I fear you're still too late."

Before my eyes, her transformation began. Her deep purple eyes shifted to a bloody crimson, the color of fresh kills. Her skin paled to the translucent white of marble, and when she smiled, two razor-sharp fangs gleamed in the torchlight.

A vampire. Here, in the heart of my kingdom.

Garrick's face cycled through shock, confusion, and finally settled on pure, unadulterated rage. "You... you're a vampire?" His voice cracked with the weight of betrayal. "This entire time, you've been using me?"

Morgana's laugh was like breaking glass. "Yes, darling. Come with me to the vampire clans. My master will give you the power and throne you've always craved. Everything here will burn to ash."

The fury that rose in my chest was volcanic. Every muscle in my body tensed as centuries of buried rage threatened to consume me. "Neither of you is leaving this place alive," I snarled, drawing my silver sword in one fluid motion. The blade sang as it cut through the air, eager for vampire blood.

Morgana shifted into a defensive stance, her back to Garrick, dark magic coalescing around her fingers like living shadow. She raised her hands, prepared to meet my charge with the foul sorcery of her kind.

But then something unexpected happened.

With lightning speed, Garrick's hand moved to Morgana's waist, extracting a silver dagger she had concealed there. Without hesitation, without mercy, he drove the blade deep into her back, the point emerging from her chest in a spray of dark blood.

Morgana's body went rigid. She turned slowly, her crimson eyes wide with disbelief, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. "Why..." she whispered, the word barely audible.

Garrick's face was a mask of cold determination. "Because I hate vampires more than anything else in this world," he said ruthlessly. "Three hundred years ago, your kind slaughtered my family. I may be ambitious, I may have disobeyed orders, but I will never betray Silver Howl. I will never become a vampire's lapdog."

Morgana's eyes filled with hatred and disbelief in equal measure. Her body crumpled to the stone floor, the dark magic around her dissipating like smoke in the wind. Life fled from her features as quickly as it had animated them.

The cell fell silent except for the sound of our breathing. Draven stepped forward cautiously, checking Morgana's pulse. "She's dead," he confirmed, his voice barely above a whisper.

I stared at the scene before me, my mind struggling to process what had just occurred. The rage I felt toward vampires warred with confusion at Garrick's unexpected action. Slowly, I approached him, studying his face for any sign of deception.

"You truly had no alliance with the vampires?" I asked, my voice carefully controlled. "All the attacks, all the plans..."

Garrick met my gaze directly, unflinching. "My loyalty to Silver Howl is absolute. Let the moon goddess herself be my witness. I may hunger for power, but I would never ally with those who betrayed us."

I studied him for a long moment, searching for any hint of falsehood. Finally, I gave a curt nod to the guards. "Remove the body. Burn it according to vampire purification rites."

As the guards lifted Morgana's corpse, I turned and strode from the cell, leaving behind a chamber thick with unanswered questions and the metallic scent of blood.

Outside the dungeons, Draven and I stood in the shadowed corridor, the weight of recent events settling over us like a heavy cloak.

"It was too easy," I said, my brow furrowed in thought. "Morgana didn't strike me as the type to be defeated so simply."

Draven nodded slowly. "Whatever her game was, Garrick's power remains sealed. Even if there are other plots in motion, he poses no immediate threat." He paused, then added quietly, "We should focus on identifying any other vampires that might be hiding among us."

I agreed, but something nagged at me—a sense that we had witnessed only the opening act of a much larger performance.

"About the ceremony tonight..." Draven's voice took on a more hesitant tone. "Adelaide's true identity... I have known all along."

My expression hardened instantly. "You knew she was the human princess and chose to conceal it from me."

Draven met my gaze steadily. "Yes, I knew. When Thalia told me, I chose to keep her secret because I saw the genuine feelings between you two."

The betrayal cut deep, sharper than any blade. "What right did you have to make that decision? Her presence could threaten all of Silver Howl!"

"If I must face punishment for my choice, I accept it," Draven replied calmly. "But you know Adelaide has repeatedly risked her life to help us, to expose vampire conspiracies. Her actions prove her loyalty, regardless of her bloodline."

I turned toward the window, gazing out at the night sky as my anger slowly cooled to a cold ache. "And Thalia... she's not an ordinary human either, is she?"

Draven nodded. "She's the daughter of the human High Priest, gifted with powerful magic. She's..." his voice softened, "she's my mate, despite being human."

The admission hung between us like a bridge spanning an impossible chasm. I remained silent for a long moment, memories of Adelaide flooding my mind—her smile, her courage, her gentle touch. The way she had looked at me with such trust, such love.

"I don't know how to face her," I finally admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "Her lies and her truth—I can't tell them apart anymore."

Draven stepped closer. "Perhaps you should give her a chance to explain. Thalia says Adelaide came here with a mission initially, but her feelings for you are real."

I continued staring into the distance, my heart torn between love and duty, trust and suspicion. "I need time to think. Until we decide our next move, keep her in her chambers. Let no one near her—neither those who would harm her nor those who might help her escape."

Draven nodded his understanding and moved to leave, but paused at the threshold. "Sometimes fate is more complex than we imagine. Perhaps Adelaide's arrival wasn't just a conspiracy, but the beginning of ending three centuries of hatred."

I didn't respond, continuing to gaze out at the night as my thoughts churned like a storm-tossed sea. The woman I loved had deceived me, but her deception had also saved us all. How could I reconcile the Adelaide who lay in my arms with the princess who had infiltrated my kingdom?