The Princess's Revenge Chapter 31

Valencia’s POV

The question surprised me. He was asking my opinion, treating me like a warrior rather than just a burden to protect. Despite my exhaustion, I felt that same burning energy from before stirring in my chest.

"Yes," I said firmly. "I can fight."

Dorian nodded. "Good. You're with my group."

I watched Xander and his four warriors disappear down the left corridor, their footsteps echoing off the stone walls. Then Dorian turned to our group.

"Stay close, stay quiet, and don't take unnecessary risks," he ordered. "Our priority is protecting the supplies, not heroics."

We nodded and moved down the main corridor, stepping carefully around the bodies of dead rogues and fallen pack members. The walls were streaked with blood, and broken weapons littered the floor.

I kept my dagger ready, scanning the shadows for any sign of movement.

"Stay alert," Dorian whispered ahead of me.

The three warriors with us nodded grimly. We reached the end of the hallway and turned right. The supply storage room was just ahead, its heavy wooden doors standing wide open.

Dorian held up his hand, signaling us to stop. He listened carefully for any sounds coming from inside the room. After a moment, he motioned for us to move forward.

We approached the doorway cautiously. Dorian peered around the corner first, then stepped inside. I followed close behind him.

The sight made my stomach drop. The storage room was completely destroyed. Wooden shelves that had once held supplies lay scattered across the floor in broken pieces. Bolts of cloth were unrolled and trampled, their bright colors now stained with mud and blood. Leather goods were torn apart, their pieces scattered everywhere. Tools that should have been neatly organized were thrown randomly across the stone floor. Daily necessities like pottery and baskets were smashed to pieces.

But what struck me most was the silence. There were no rogues here. Just the eerie quiet of a room that had been thoroughly ransacked.

Two bodies lay near the entrance. Their throats had been torn out, and their eyes stared sightlessly at the ceiling. Blood pooled beneath them, already starting to congeal.

"Clear," Dorian announced after checking the corners of the room.

The warriors spread out, examining the damage. One of them kicked at a broken wooden crate, sending splinters across the floor.

I walked deeper into the room, stepping carefully around the debris. Something about this scene bothered me. The destruction was too thorough.

"Beta," I called out. "Can I ask you something?"

He looked up from where he was examining the dead guards. "What is it?"

"This doesn't make sense," I said, gesturing around the ruined room. "Look at all this damage. The rogues spent time here, a lot of time. They could have just killed the guards and moved on, but instead they destroyed everything."

Dorian's expression remained neutral, but I caught a flicker of something in his eyes. Surprise? Concern?

"Rogues are savage," he said simply. "They destroy for the pleasure of it."

"But why waste time on supplies when they could be fighting warriors?" I pressed. "And why break everything instead of taking it? Some of these things would be valuable to rogues living in the wild."

I picked up a torn piece of fine leather that had probably come from expensive boots or gloves. "This could have been useful to them. So could the tools. But they just destroyed it all."

Dorian walked over to me, his boots crunching on broken pottery. "What are you suggesting?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "It just seems strange. Such a large-scale attack, all this destruction, but what was the real purpose? Just to kill people and break things?"

For a moment, Dorian didn't respond. He stared at the ruined room, and I could see his mind working. Then he seemed to shake himself out of his thoughts.

"You're overthinking this," he said, but his voice sounded forced. "Rogues don't need reasons beyond violence. They're animals."

But something in his tone bothered me. He sounded like he was trying to convince himself as much as me. And why had he looked so surprised when I pointed out the strangeness of the scene?

"Maybe you're right," I said, though I wasn't convinced.

"I am right," Dorian said firmly. "We don't have time to analyze rogue behavior. We need to check on Xander's group."

He turned away from me and addressed the three warriors. "Search the room quickly. Make sure no rogues are hiding anywhere."

We checked behind fallen shelves and in the corners of the room. The room was clearly empty. Something was nagging at me, but I couldn't figure out what it was.

"Clear," one of the warriors called out after several minutes.

"Clear," echoed another from the far corner.

"Clear," confirmed the third.

Dorian nodded grimly. "Good. Now we need to support Xander's group." He looked at each of us in turn. "Stay alert. The food storage room might have more rogues."

We left the ruined supply room and made our way down the corridor. I tried not to look at the bodies of our fallen pack members as we passed them.

The food storage room was located deeper in the first level, near the eastern wall. As we approached, I could hear Xander's voice coming from inside.

"Xander!" Dorian called out as we reached the doorway.

"In here," came Xander's reply.

The situation here was worse than the supply room. The neatly stacked grain sacks had been torn open, and wheat, barley, and oats were scattered across the stone floor. Dozens of clay jars lay scattered everywhere, their contents of honey, olive oil, and pickled vegetables spilling out to form a sticky, slippery mixture underfoot.

On the eastern side of the storage room, the winter reserves had been destroyed. The smoked meats and sausages that had once hung neatly were all torn down, most of them ripped to pieces. On the western side, the cheese racks had completely collapsed. The spice jars had also been overturned, and cinnamon, cloves, and pepper were mixed together in a pungent cloud.

The wine barrel area at the back of the storage room had also been damaged. The sweet aromas of red wine, white wine, and mead now mixed with the smell of blood, creating a nauseating combination that made my stomach turn.

But it wasn't as bad as the courtyard or the armory. At least here, the walls weren't completely painted with blood.

Xander and his four warriors were sitting against the far wall, breathing heavily. Their clothes were torn and bloody.

"How many?" Dorian asked.

"Six rogues," Xander replied, wiping blood from a cut on his forehead. "We killed four of them."

I looked around the room, counting the dead rogue bodies. Four black wolves lay motionless among the scattered food. Their red eyes had gone dark, and their fur was matted with blood.

"What happened to the other two?" Dorian asked.

Xander grinned and pointed toward the wall behind him. "We kept them alive."

Dorian shocked. His face went completely white, and his hands began to shake. For a moment, he looked almost terrified.

I followed his gesture and gasped. Two rogues were bound against the wall, their hands and feet tied with thick rope. Dirty rags had been stuffed into their mouths to keep them quiet. They were both in human form now - a man and a woman, both naked and covered in wounds. They glared at us as they struggled against their bonds.

"You captured them alive?" Dorian's voice came out higher than normal.