Chapter 810

A Knife in the Shadows

Samuel took a slow breath, forcing himself to steady his racing thoughts.

“Are you even aware of what’s happening outside?” he demanded.

Victoria tilted her head ever so slightly, her expression calm, almost amused.

“A war.”

Samuel’s jaw tightened.

“Yes. A war. A war you led us into.”

His voice became sharper with every word.

“The northern pack is smart, Victoria. They’re using everything to their advantage. The blizzard. The terrain. The darkness. Our warriors are scrambling, trying to figure out what to do. There are screams everywhere. People are fighting just to stay alive, and some have already given up.”

Victoria’s expression remained unchanged. She simply watched him with those cold, calculating eyes, as though he were little more than an inconvenience interrupting her day.

Samuel took a step forward. “Every Alpha who came with us has already stepped out of their carriage. They’re fighting beside their warriors. They’re bleeding beside them. And you…” He gestured toward the luxurious interior of the carriage. “…you remain seated. You led us here. You promised victory. You assured every one of us that this war was already won.”

Outside, another scream echoed through the blizzard. Samuel pointed toward the door. “Our warriors are dying out there.”

Victoria folded one leg over the other. “I’m waiting for the right time.”

Samuel let out a bitter laugh. “The right time?” He shook his head. “When exactly is that, Luna? When everyone else is dead? When only you remain alive?”

He stepped even closer. “You told us you had warriors. Warriors you’ve personally trained. Bloodthirsty warriors. I saw them standing behind your carriage before the battle began.” His eyes narrowed. “So let them fight.”

Victoria’s gaze hardened. “It’s not time.”

Samuel groaned in disbelief. “It is time.” His voice filled the carriage. “Do you intend to let every other warrior die before releasing them? How many more bodies do you need before you decide enough is enough?”

Victoria’s expression became colder. “You will not tell me how to conduct my war.”

Samuel’s lips curled into a humourless smile. “Your war?” He laughed again. “It stopped being your war the moment every pack answered your call. It’s our war. Our warriors. Our blood. Our dead.”

He leaned forward until only inches separated them. “And you’d better hope we win it.”

Victoria met his gaze without flinching. “Are you threatening me?”

Samuel smiled. It wasn’t a pleasant smile. It carried neither warmth nor humour. “Do you think I am?”

Victoria returned the smile. “I hope not.” Her voice was soft. “For your sake.”

Samuel inhaled to answer. Instead, blood burst from his mouth. His eyes widened. He slowly looked downward. The tip of a blade protruded from the centre of his chest.

For one impossible second, he couldn’t understand what he was seeing. Pain came a heartbeat later. It exploded through his body, stealing the strength from his legs. He tried to inhale, but only blood filled his mouth. His hands instinctively reached for the blade, his fingers trembling.

Then he slowly turned his head.

Behind him, Selith stood perfectly still. Her crooked fingers remained wrapped around the hilt of the knife. Her pale, milky eyes looked directly into his own. A smile stretched across her cracked lips. It wasn’t cruel. It wasn’t angry. It was peaceful. Like someone finally completing a task they had waited years to perform.

Samuel stared at her. Disbelief clouded every feature on his face. “You…” His voice came out as little more than a whisper. “You…”

Selith leaned closer until her face was beside his ear. Her voice was almost gentle. “Die for our cause, Alpha.”

Samuel’s body shuddered. His knees buckled. The strength left his limbs all at once. He collapsed heavily onto the carpeted floor of the carriage. Blood immediately spread beneath him, soaking into the expensive fabric. His fingers twitched weakly. His eyes remained fixed on the ceiling. His breathing became shallower with every passing second.

Selith calmly stepped over him. She knelt beside his body. Then she raised the knife again. The blade came down. Once. Twice. Again. And again. Each strike was deliberate. Almost ceremonial. There was no rage in her movements. No desperation. Only devotion. As though every stab formed part of some ancient ritual only she understood.

Victoria watched silently for a few moments. She neither stopped Selith nor encouraged her. She simply turned away.

The carriage door opened. A blast of icy wind swept inside. Snow immediately blew across the floor.

Victoria stepped outside. The blizzard had grown even stronger. Visibility had dropped to only a few metres. The wind roared between the towering trees. In the distance she could still hear the clash of steel, the screams, the howls, the shrieks of dying beasts. The battle was still raging.

Several yards away stood the warriors she had kept in reserve. They remained exactly where she had ordered them to stay. Not one of them had moved. They stood in perfect formation despite the weather, their armour dusted white with snow. Their weapons were already drawn. Their expressions remained empty. Waiting only for her command.

Victoria slowly walked toward them. She studied each face. These were not ordinary warriors. They had been shaped specifically for this war. Broken down. Rebuilt. Stronger. More ruthless. Far more obedient than ordinary wolves.

She allowed herself a faint smile.

Soon, very soon, their turn would come.

The wind bit into her exposed skin. Even through her thick cloak she could feel the brutal cold. Snow struck her face hard enough to sting. She glanced toward the dark forest beyond. Somewhere inside it, the Nightshade Pack believed they were winning.

She almost laughed.

Without another word, she turned around and hurried back toward the warmth of the carriage.

The moment she stepped inside, the cold disappeared behind the heavy door. She removed the snow from her shoulders before settling comfortably into her seat once more.

Selith had already begun cleaning. The old woman worked methodically. The knife had disappeared. Fresh cloths soaked up the blood pooling across the floor. It was as though none of it disturbed her.

Victoria leaned back against the cushioned seat. Unlike what Samuel believed, she had absolutely no doubt they would win this war.

And perhaps therein lay her greatest problem.

For perhaps the Nightshade Pack had prepared even better than she had.