Forest of Lies

Chapter 36-Sweet Suffering

😁Been wanting to add some more players into this little game of Revolution, best to have some allies within enemy territory to terrorize them. 🥰 I will have us back to our usual troublemakers in the next chapter, can't wait to see how this goes!🔥

🤭Please let me know what you think of this chapter, I can't wait to see how these new characters work. Hehe😊
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The two nights after the High Alpha King had gone mad, his queen gone, the Scythe among the missing slaves and several lower wolf servants, the Night Watch was on edge, patrolling with sharp eyes across every inch of the city. General Kamir had been swift with gathering the Iron Court and setting up a plan to find the slaves and missing persons, with a curfew for the entire city set in place, Marshall law to not be lifted until the General gave the word.

The tasks usually relegated to the slaves were taken up by lower wolf servants, of which the females gave no complaint while the males still stumbled along, still shaking off the dregs of the strange sleeping sickness that had plagued them for the past three days. In that time, many thought the disappearance of several males in the city to be attributed to having gone off with the slaves and the Cunning Lord.

That is until this morning when the new instated marshalls each found a single message on their desks. Fine small rolls of silk each embroidered with a single poem, and the image of a burning black tulip.

The Rule of Beasts
Shall crumble and weep
Revenge that is sweet
When the monsters bleed

The banners had been shown to the General and all soilders able to be put to work. This blatant threat, a threat to the very crown itself, was treason. A crime to be paid for by death, one to be atoned through burning of the traitor's flesh.

The evening was calm, a chill wind gusting through the streets and over the wall and watchtowers lined with silent soldiers. Night watchmen, in their gray cloaks, trousers and jackets, went down every street and alley with wary gazes and ears pricked for the slightest sound. The slightest hint of anything untoward beyond the rumbling coal and refuse carts, and the sound of taverns filled with faint music and drunken singing.

Grayson Isdra and his partner Edwin Grim, both newly twenty had the unwanted task of the midnight patrol. Being only on the Night Watch for a year, the still new recruits were near the bottom of the pecking order, their rank higher than the newest pledges that were given the dawn patrol. Grayson was tired, having pulled a double shift his eyes were all but drooping while Edwin seemed at peace from having worked only an hour before.

"It sure is peaceful," Edwin mused, sucking in a lungful of winter air as he loped along beside his taller blonde partner. The breeze ruffling Edwin's brown curls across his copper hued cheek. "Doubtful we'll have any fun tonight."

Grayson hums in answer, hands resting on belt, left thumb brushing the hilt of his short sword.
"Indeed, all the chaos from yesterday has finally begun to wind down, bad about the Queen truly, but I hear some are happy she's gone. She murdered that Alpha without batting an eye, witchcraft they say she used."

Edwin nods in agreement, brushing back his hair with a gloved hand before halting as a shadow flashes across the cobbles in front of them. Grayson catches it to, wrapping a hand round his sword hilt as his partner does as well.

"You saw that, yes?" Edwin asks, turning eye to his friend and finding him nodding in answer.
The moment they take a step forward the yell of male and the clattering of a blade urges both the males down the rest of the street and turn left down the alley where the sound originated.

The watchmen skid to a halt, weapons unsheathing in tandem at the sight of a dead male in fine evening dress. Blood pours from the mortal wound in his stomach, viscera falling out into the red pool beneath his body. Standing next to the wounded male is a slight, slim figure in dark leathers and a cloak of black silk.

A sash of orange tied beneath the belt at their waist, a crossbow, rope, and arrow bolts attached. In their hand is a thin, curved iron dagger, the hilt studded with gold, rubies, and sapphires. Blood drips along the blade and a to the ground beside their black leather boots.

"Drop the blade!" Edwin shouts, stepping forward, sword pointing toward the figure. "And get on your knees."

The figure does neither, in a flash they leap at Edwin, diving beneath his sword before sliding up behind him, knocking him out with a single bash of the dagger hilt to his head. Grayson steps back, stumbling into the alley wall as the figure turns toward him.

"Not another step!" Grayson orders, his voice cracking near the end, a wave of chill sweat sprouting along his skin as the hooded figure stalks closer him. Pushing down his fear, Grayson moves, rushing forward and swiping at his friend's attacker.

The figure dodges, diving a second before his blade reaches their face. But in that single second, Grayson's sword edge catches their hood, and pulls the cloth back away from their face. In a thrice, both turn around and go still as another gentle breeze blows down the alley.

Grayson looks on at this killer as fragrant notes of sea salt, pine, and wild mint fill his nose. The scent emanating from this criminal, this female before him. A young woman no older than him, hair the hue of wet sand and eyes dark as obsidian, her skin tanned to a deep copper, face soft yet touched by a veneer of privilege and authority.

In his bones, heart, and soul Grayson knows she is his mate, knows that he should arrest her regardless. There is no other choice for him, no way the law can be overturned. His mate has killed and she will have to hang.

Grayson narrows his gaze hardening his heart as he steps forward, but as before she is quicker than him. Slipping around his broad body and scrambling up the alley wall behind him, turning he sees her leap away right as she throws a small object at him. Fluidly he grabs the object with his other hand and opens his palm to see the item shining in the moonlight.

A pendant in the shape of a nautilus shell, the back inscribed with the image of a tower on cliff with waves splashing agasint the shore. Sheathing his sword, Grayson opens the pendant and finds within a portrait of an old female with three claw marks on her cheek and two younger ones. The youngest no more than a teenager, all soft flowing brown curls and pale blue eyes. The other is Grayson's mate, swathed in a gown of gold, her eyes fierce and cutting.

The image of the scarred female and the pack symbol on the pendant strikes a memory within Grayson. It had been the Duchess Morgaine who stood beside General Kamir just the day before, when she had given a speech to tell all the females of the city to remain calm and care for the recovering males as was their duty. A lady with an aging mate whose mind had been failing for some time, and in one of his episodes had scratched her.

It had been a public accident a year before at a ball hosted by the king. Grayson had witnessed it and the sight had made him unnerved for weeks. From this discovery, this incident upon this night, Grayson was in a dilemma. A decision to let his mate of noble blood live, or reveal this secret and have justice for his friend and the dead man. Clouded with uncertainty, his wolf howling to protect the one given to him by the goddess, Grayson pocketed the locket and went out in search for the closest watchmen.

In the shadows, Soralia Edgmore watched her mate slip away. His scent of fresh grass, cedar, and mossy stone clinging to her nostrils and on her tongue. Her foolish choice to give him the locket irreversible, a decision clouded by the desire to give him a way to chase her. To find her.

The very thought of it made her wolf preen and purr. It would be a chase indeed for the male, a test of his loyalty to not reveal who she was until all the names on her long kill list were marked off, and she still had twenty more to go before the night was through.