William’s POV
“This-“William froze.
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The torchlight flickered across the wide underground clearing, and his brain refused to accept what his eyes were seeing Blood streaked the stone in long smears, thick pools darkening the dirt, splatters climbing up the walls like someone had been thrown against them. Weapons were scattered everywhere broken spear near the center, a dagger half–buried by a bootprint, a sword snapped at the hilt as if it had been crushed by brute force.
But there were no bodies.
There were no groaning soldiers, no wounded men crawling, no voices shouting for help. Not even the sound of boots or breath.
Only the smell. Iron and rot and something sharp underneath it.
William’s stomach clenched as he took another step in, his grip tightening around his weapon. He had expected to find his men gathered and waiting like Renan promised. He had expected order beneath the chaos above.
Instead, it looked like a fight had already happened and the winners had wiped the board clean.
“Where are they?” the thought hit him hard. Where are my soldiers?
A movement on the far end of the clearing snapped his focus.
Someone stood there beside a stone support column, the crimson uniform catching the torchlight in a way that made William’s blood turn cold. The red was unmistakable. Northern red.
William drew his weapon so fast the metal sang, and his arm locked into place as he pointed it straight at the figure’s chest.
His voice shook despite everything he tried to force into it. “Lieutenant…”
The figure stepped forward just enough for the light to hit her face.
Grace.
William’s heart slammed once, then again, as if it was trying to punch its way out of his ribs. “Why are you here?” he demanded.
Renan stopped beside him, shoulders stiff, eyes darting across the clearing as if he expected the shadows to move again.
Grace looked past William’s blade like it was nothing more than a stick. Her expression remained calm, her hands visible at her sides, and that only made it worse because nothing about this scene deserved calm.
“I heard fighting,” Grace said. “So we followed it.”
William’s eyes narrowed. “From where.”
“From the forest,” she replied easily. “There was an entrance. Hidden. You should really have better security.”
The way she said it made William’s spine stiffen. It sounded like a casual comment, like she was pointing out a loose latch on a door, not standing in the middle of his pack’s buried secrets.
William’s gaze swept the clearing again, hunting for movement, for the slightest sign that this was a trap meant to provoke him. “This is Nightfall territory,” he snapped. “You have no right to step beneath our grounds.”
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Grace’s eyes flicked to the blood by William’s boots, then back up to him. “We arrived and found this, she und “No one was here. Only blood and scattered weapons.”
Her tone stayed clean. Too clean.
William hated it.
It felt like she was standing there with innocence on her face while mocking him without ever saying the words out loud. He had seen that kind of expression before, the kind that made you feel like you were already losing even if you still had a weapon in your hand.
Grace’s lips curved slightly. Not enough to be called a smile, but enough to make William’s stomach tighten. “May I know what the Beta is doing here?” she asked. “Did you hear the commotion too?”
William’s vision pulsed at the edges. His boots suddenly felt wrong on the ground, like the stone beneath him had shifted without warning.
Renan’s hand came up fast, gripping William’s elbow to steady him when his balance staggered. William hated the fact that he needed it.
He forced himself to breathe, forced his voice to hold. “What do you think you are doing?” he barked. “What are you doing under my pack’s grounds. Are you planning to kill us all?”
Grace snorted. “If we are,” she said. “What can you do about it?”
William’s eyes widened.
His mind scrambled for logic, for explanations that did not end in disaster. He had planned for chaos above ground, planned for the North to be distracted while Nightfall moved from below. He had planned for his men to rise like a hidden knife and force the Northerners into disorder.
He had not planned for Grace to already be down here. He had not planned for an empty battlefield under his own home.
He had not planned for fear to creep up his throat like a hand closing around it.
Behind him, Renan’s breathing changed.
It was a sharp inhale, then the sound of boots shifting fast.
William turned his head just enough to catch it.
Renan ran.
He bolted toward the stairs, toward the narrow passage they came down from, moving with the panic of a man who had realized something too late.
“Renan-“William started, and his voice cracked because he understood the same thing in that moment.
If Renan reached the stairs, he could warn someone. He could raise the pack. He could trigger whatever plan was still salvageable.
Grace did not shout. She did not rush.
She only lifted her hand.
A dagger appeared in her grip so smoothly William did not see where it came from. Her arm moved once, a clean throw that cut through the torchlight like a line.
Then, the dagger hit Renan at the back of the head.
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Renan’s body jerked mid–stride. His legs tangled. His hands reached our toward the wall like he could catch insett, iske he could still fight gravity.
Then he slammed face–first into the stone and went still
William’s breath stopped.
The clearing went colder, not from temperature but from the shock that hit him so hard it made his limbs heavy.
“Renan,” he whispered without meaning to, and the word sounded useless against what he was seeing
Grace walked forward at an even pace, her boots stepping around blood as if she had done this a thousand times. She looked down at Renan then she lifted her gaze to the shadows behind her.
“Clean the body,” she said calmly. “Detain the Beta.”
“You- You just- “William’s head snapped up. “What are you doing!?” His voice rose. “How dare you murder one of Nightfall!”
Grace finally looked directly at him, and this time the mockery was not hidden. It was there in the way her eyes held his, in the way her mouth barely moved when she spoke, as if she was bored.
“The Beta is caught rebelling against his Alpha,” she said. “He is working with Demon Fangs. He is trying to commit treason against the pack.”
“You dare accuse me?”
Grace’s gaze did not flicker. “It’s not an accusation if it’s true.”
William’s heart hammered so hard his chest hurt. He could hear his own breath now, loud against the silence, and it made him realize something else.
There were footsteps around them.
Not from his men.
From hers.
Crimson uniforms moved at the edges of the clearing, stepping out from behind stone supports and darker corners like they had been there the whole time.
William’s jaw clenched until it ached. He forced his feet into a wider stance, keeping his blade up, keeping Grace in front of him because if he let his eyes wander too much, panic would take advantage.
“You think you can walk into our grounds and rewrite the story,” he said, and his voice shook again because he could not keep it steady anymore. “You think you can kill my men and claim it was treason. You think you can-”
Grace moved.
William did not see her step. He only saw the blur of crimson and the flash of metal.
Another dagger was in her hand. Then she lunged at him.
William reacted on instinct, swinging his sword toward her neck Grace ducked under it so easily it made William’s stomach drop, then she drove her shoulder into his chest and shoved him backward. His boots slid on blood–wet stone, his balance breaking for half a second.
Grace used that half second.
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She slashed across his forearm.
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The cut was not deep enough to kill, but it was deep enough to sing and weaken his grip. William hissed through this teeth and swung again, forcing distance, forcing her back.
Grace stepped aside instead of retreating, moving around the and of his blade like she could read it before it happened. She struck his ribs with the hilt of her dagger, a hard hit that made his breath jump. Then she kicked his knee from the side.
Pain flared down his leg. He
umbled.
William cursed and drove forward, using his weight, using the rage that still had nowhere to go. He slashed again and again. trying to box her into the wall, trying to make the fight something he understood.
Grace did not allow it.
She let him spend his strength and th
punished every opening
A dagger flicked toward his shoulder. He twisted away but felt the blade bite shallow, slicing through fabric and skin. Another strike came at his thigh. He tried to step back but his heel caught on something, a broken spear shaft, and his balance slipped again.
Grace was already there.
Her knee slammed into his stomach, forcing air out of him. His sword dipped. Grace’s hand snapped up, grabbing his wrist, twisting hard. William felt the tendons pull tight, felt the pain shoot up to his elbow.
He tried to yank free. He tried to drive his blade into her side.
Grace spun with him, staying close, and drove her dagger across the back of his hand.
William fought to breathe. His eyes watered. His lungs burned.
He saw her arm move downward and tried to jump back.
He was too slow.
Grace’s dagger slid behind his ankle and sliced.
The pain was sharp enough that William’s whole body jolted. He gasped, and his knee buckled.
Before he could recover, Grace dropped low and cut his other ankle the same way, clean and precise, like she knew exactly what to sever.
William hit the ground hard. His sword clattered, skidding across stone out of reach.
He tried to push up.
Yet, his feet refused to cooperate. His ankles folded under him, useless.
Fear finally hit him fully as Grace stood over him, breathing steady, dagger still in hand, not even sweating.
William glared up at her. “What are you doing!? I am innocent! How dare you- “
“You lost this game Beta,” Grace said as she crouched just enough to meet his gaze. “You shouldn’t really have schemed against our Consort. Now… your pack will go down with you.”
“You-”
Grace rose to her full height again. “Bind him,” she ordered without looking away from William. “If he fights, break his
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hands. Break every bone in his body. Just keep him alive.”
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