Chapter 29
29 Chapter 29 His Deadly Precision
Faye’s POV
The thick mist swirled around us like a living thing, carrying the stench of rot and death. I pressed closer to Hardy as we navigated the treacherous path, my fingers laced tightly with his.
“What makes you think this miasma exists here?” I murmured, keeping my voice barely above a whisper.
The putrid air clung to our skin, seeping into our clothes and coating the back of my throat with its foul taste. My stomach twisted in disgust, but the toxic vapors couldn’t touch me. Poison immunity had its advantages.
The same couldn’t be said for Hardy.
A damp cloth covered the lower half of his face, saturated with some pungent herbal mixture that made my eyes water. Even with that protection, the deadly mist would eventually find its way into his system.
That’s where I came in.
Our hands remained clasped as we moved forward, and I felt every subtle change in his body when the toxins began their assault. The moment I sensed the poison creeping through his bloodstream, I responded without hesitation. My healing energy flowed into him steadily, flushing out the deadly vapors before they
could take hold.
We didn’t discuss this silent exchange. Words weren’t
necessary.
“Your father anticipated someone would steal that map. Obviously, he needed to implement certain safeguards,” Hardy said, his voice muffled by the cloth.
I remained quiet. That sounded exactly like something
father would do.
“Do you believe he was aware of what happened between Nick and my mother?” The question slipped out before I could stop it. I had already shared this information when I gave Hardy the map, but he had
shown little interest then.
“That’s not something I could answer,” he replied
curtly.
I clamped my mouth shut immediately. Was I talking too much? Chattering had never been my nature, especially after my failure to awaken. Perhaps anxiety was making me babble. This was uncharted territory
for me.
“This particular poison would be lethal even to my most powerful Lieutenants,” Hardy observed suddenly. “It’s designed to eliminate the strong p>
I nodded silently. But how had father obtained access to something so deadly?
“Toxins of this caliber only originate from the West,” he continued.
That revelation made me frown. The West was
notorious as untamed territory, populated by witches and various supernatural creatures considered savage by most civilized society.
Before I could voice my thoughts, Hardy halted abruptly. “We’ve arrived p>
An enormous boulder loomed before us, its surface
carpeted with moss and glistening with moisture. It appeared utterly immovable, ancient and solid. Yet Hardy approached it without hesitation. He withdrew the map from beneath his cloak, unfolding it carefully in the pale blue light emanating from a glowing stone he produced from his pouch. Holding the parchment against the rock’s surface, his eyes moved quickly as he aligned the markings.
Several heartbeats passed in silence. Then his palm pressed firmly against a carved groove in the stone.
A low, rumbling sound filled the air.
I stepped backward instinctively as the boulder’s center began rotating inward like an enormous mechanism. The stone parted smoothly, revealing steep steps carved directly into the rock face.
Hardy refolded the map with practiced efficiency. “Let’s go p>
We descended rapidly into darkness. The instant our feet touched the final step, the boulder sealed itself behind us with a definitive click. When I glanced back, I saw only seamless stone. No visible cracks or
mechanisms betrayed the entrance’s existence.
The cave stretched ahead of us, narrow enough for perhaps three people to walk abreast. Cool, stale air replaced the toxic mist above, and Hardy’s lightstone provided just enough illumination to navigate safely.
At least the deadly vapors remained outside.
Hardy raised two fingers to his lips, signaling for
absolute silence.
I pressed my lips together and nodded understanding.
Strangely, I found his gesture amusing. Here was Hardy demanding quiet from someone who rarely spoke anyway. A faint smile tugged at his mouth before he continued forward.
Our muffled footsteps echoed softly against the worn stone as we advanced. Hardy moved with obvious familiarity, never pausing to consult the map again. Every turn seemed memorized.
I followed closely, scanning each curve and shadow while straining to catch any unusual sounds.
Then everything changed in an instant.
Hardy tensed for a split second before launching himself forward with startling speed.
A sharp crack echoed through the tunnel.
A body collapsed heavily just ahead of us.
My breath caught in my throat. The source of thɪs content is
Hardy knelt beside the motionless figure, already dragging it aside. The guard’s neck bent at an impossible angle. I stared in stunned silence, my pulse hammering against my ribs.
I hadn’t detected the man’s presence at all. No footsteps, no breathing, no subtle movements that usually betrayed someone’s location. He had
materialized from nowhere, yet Hardy had sensed him immediately.
The kill had been executed with terrifying efficiency, as natural as breathing. No hesitation, no assessment, just swift, lethal precision that ended in absolute silence.
He hadn’t bothered with unconsciousness or surrender. Death had been immediate, clean,
emotionless.
Ice ran through my veins as I realized how little I truly knew about my companion.
The tunnel wasn’t completely dark. Any werewolf should navigate these conditions easily. My own vision functioned adequately, though not as sharply as theirs. Without Hardy here…
We pressed deeper into the cave.
The passage narrowed slightly, and the temperature dropped noticeably.
Hardy stopped again.
Another guard materialized from the shadows.
The pattern repeated itself exactly.
Silent approach, swift movement, sharp snap, lifeless body dragged aside.
Hardy wiped blood from his hands onto his cloak
without flinching.
I kept silent.
I harbored no illusions about his nature, but witnessing it firsthand, quiet and calculated and brutal, proved far more visceral than any story.
We walked in heavy silence through what felt like endless passages.
The tunnel angled downward now, and distant echoes reached my ears. Water perhaps, or something moving in the depths below.
Suddenly, Hardy stopped again.
He turned to face me, raising one hand with clear instructions to remain exactly where I stood. His eyes locked onto mine with unmistakable authority. I nodded silently, understanding completely.
Without another sound, he slipped ahead alone, his movements ghostlike against the stone floor. I remained frozen in place, holding my breath as tension thickened around me. My heart pounded so loudly I feared it might give away our position.
Beyond the bend ahead, the silence shattered with familiar sounds. Scuffling feet, a surprised grunt, bone cracking, and finally a body slamming against stone.
29 Chapter 29 His Deadly Precision
Then nothing.
Perfect quiet returned as if violence had never disturbed the peace.
Moments later, Hardy emerged from the darkness, his composure unchanged. His breathing remained steady, his posture relaxed, displaying the same deadly calm I was rapidly becoming accustomed to. Killing appeared to be just another routine task requiring no thought or emotional investment.
He said nothing, simply took my hand and guided me forward once more.
The path widened ahead, and faint light flickered against the cave walls. As we approached, I realized we were nearing an open chamber within the cave
system.
That’s when the smell hit me.
Blood.
Morh Lucia
Lucia Morh is a passionate storyteller who brings emotions to life through her words. When she’s not writing, she finds peace nurturing her garden.