The Princess's Revenge Chapter 64

Logan’s POV

I took a long breath. I needed to appear strong in front of Valencia. I needed her to believe I still had control, even though everything felt like it was spiraling away from me. My feet carried me deeper into the corridor, toward my study.

The dream's content was already growing hazy in my mind, but the fear and guilt lingered in my chest like a festering wound. Knox roared in the mind, his fury burning through our bond. He was angry at everything we'd endured. He wanted to tear Dorian apart, to make him pay for every life.

"Easy," I whispered. "Killing Dorian would be simple. But keeping my people safe—that's what matters now."

Knox's snarls echoed in my mind. He betrayed us. He led our warriors into that trap. He’s the fucking asshole.

"I know," I replied silently. "But I can't bear the cost of another mistake."

The weight of command felt heavier than ever. Every decision I made rippled outward, affecting lives beyond my own. One rash choice could destroy everything. The guilt of Clarence's death, of every warrior who'd fallen because of my leadership, threatened to crush me.

I pushed open the door on the right side of the hallway and stepped into the chamber. The room was simple but functional—thick stone walls lined with wooden shelves holding ledgers and maps. A oak desk dominated the center, its surface scarred from years of use. Two tall windows let in the light, their shutters thrown open to catch whatever breeze might stir the stagnant air. A plain wooden chair sat behind the desk, and another smaller chair faced it for visitors.

The room smelled of parchment and ink, with traces of the pine logs that heated it during winter months. No tapestries or decorations adorned the walls—I had no patience for such luxuries.

I moved to the desk and pulled out a sheet of parchment, dipping my swan feather quill into the ink pot.

To Alpha,

My pack has suffered a large-scale rogue attack. We require immediate support—food supplies, weapons, and medical provisions. Without aid, border security will be compromised, and the threat will spread to the entire kingdom.

The situation is urgent.

Logan

I rolled the parchment carefully and walked to the window. The stone sill felt cool under my hands as I leaned out and gave a sharp whistle. Within moments, a raven landed on the ledge—a large black bird with a distinctive tuft of white feathers on its head. I'd trained him myself years ago.

"Easy, Grimm," I murmured, extending my arm. The raven hopped onto my forearm, his talons gripping the leather bracer I wore. I slipped the rolled parchment into the iron ring attached to his leg, securing it carefully.

My heart sank as I looked at the bird. "I hope he agrees to help," I thought grimly. "We're running out of options."

I released Grimm through the window and watched him disappear into the sky. Then I began pacing the chamber, my mind turning to other pressing matters.

Valencia's iron collar—I needed to ask Luna Kestrel how to remove it. The metal band around her neck was more than just a symbol of slavery. And ask about how she's been. If her pack had been attacked by Elton as well, my pack would be caught between two enemies. That would be the worst possible scenario.

I returned to the desk and pulled out another sheet of parchment. My quill scratched across the surface as I wrote:

To Luna,

I hope this message finds you well. My pack has recently suffered a large-scale rogue attack that resulted in significant casualties and damage to our defenses.

I must inquire about your pack's current situation and security. I think we should coordinate our defenses and support each other during these dangerous times.

Additionally, I have a question regarding the slave I took from the funeral. Do you know how to remove her collar?

Your ally, Logan

I folded the parchment and dripped hot wax onto the seam, then pressed my silver seal into the molten wax. The image of a howling wolf emerged in the cooling wax.

I glanced out the window, noting the sun's position. It was already noon—later than I'd realized. Time was slipping away from me, and there was still so much to do.

Taking the sealed letter, I left the study and headed toward the great hall. I needed to find someone trustworthy to deliver this message.

As I approached the hall's entrance, a servant spotted me and started in surprise. "Alpha!" He bowed quickly, his voice carrying across the space.

The sound drew the attention of the warriors eating their meal. Chairs scraped against stone as they all rose to their feet in unison, their voices joining in respectful greeting: "Alpha!"

I nodded acknowledgment and gestured for them to sit. I spotted Galen sitting with a group of younger warriors near the far end of the hall. He was a reliable man.

"Galen," I called out.

He rose immediately and approached, his expression serious. "Yes, Alpha?"

I handed him the sealed letter. "Take this to Mistmarsh Pack. Deliver it directly to Luna Kestrel—no one else."

Galen accepted the letter with both hands. "Of course, Alpha." He tucked the message inside his doublet, then ran from the hall without another word.

I watched him go, then turned my attention to Dr. Vance, who sat at a nearby table picking at his meal. He looked exhausted—dark circles under his eyes, his usually neat appearance disheveled.

"Dr. Vance," I said, approaching his table.

He looked up at me with respectful attention. "Alpha?"

I gestured toward the door. "Walk with me."

He nodded and rose from his seat, following me out of the great hall. We walked in silence for a few moments.

"Where are the bodies?" I asked directly.

"In the crypt, Alpha," he replied. "I have the key with me."

I nodded grimly. "Good. We need to arrange funerals before the bodies begin to decay. We owe our warriors that much dignity. Can it be done tonight?"

Dr. Vance straightened, his voice respectful but tired. "If we work quickly, yes Alpha. It will be rushed, but perhaps it's possible."

I gave him a curt nod and we headed to the first floor. The entire great hall still bore the blackened scars of the fire. Smoke stains streaked the stone walls.

The sight hit me like a physical blow. My face darkened as I took in the destruction.

Knox snarled in my mind, his rage feeding into mine, as I clenched my jaw. FUCK.

I walked through systematically, inspecting each damaged area, my anger building with every step.

The armory door hung askew on twisted hinges, its heavy oak surface charred black. Inside, the stone walls were stained with soot, and the air still reeked of smoke and melted metal. Weapon racks lay twisted and warped from the intense heat.

The storage rooms showed similar signs. My face must have been dark as thunderclouds because Dr. Vance approached cautiously, his eyes studying my expression with obvious concern.

"The damage is extensive," Dr. Vance said carefully, appearing beside me. "But we've managed to save most of the essential supplies."

"What about the dungeon?" I asked, my voice hardening.

Dr. Vance's expression grew grim. "The guards are dead, Alpha. Both of them. The two rogues we captured are also dead."

My heart sank. Everything had gone exactly according to Dorian's plan. The betrayal cut deep, but the rage that followed was deeper.

I WILL KILL HIM, Knox roared in my mind. Rip his throat out for what he's done.

My face grew even darker, the muscles in my jaw working as I fought to contain the fury burning through my veins. Dr. Vance took a step back, clearly sensing the dangerous energy radiating from me.

"Dorian's work?" I asked.

"Most likely, Alpha," Dr. Vance replied carefully. "Though we have no direct proof."

The betrayal was like acid in my veins. My hands clenched into fists as I fought to control the anger threatening to consume me. I walked to the courtyard where the massive crater from the explosion had been filled with dirt, but the depression was still clearly visible in the packed earth. The sight of it made my jaw clench with rage.

From the courtyard, I headed to the stables. Even though they'd been thoroughly cleaned, dark stains on the wooden stalls and stone floors revealed where blood had pooled. The metallic scent still lingered faintly in the air, mixing with the usual smells of hay and leather.

My heart ached as I surveyed the damage. These had been good horses, loyal animals who'd served the pack faithfully. Their slaughter was unforgivable.

"Dr. Vance," I called as he approached the stable entrance. "Follow me to the crypt."

I mounted my horse and rode out of the stable, Dr. Vance hurrying to keep pace on foot behind me.