Chapter 6 - The Shattered Oath
The rain began to fall as the ceremony commenced.
Vivien stood at her window, watching the figures gather in the courtyard below. Duke Laurent uncorked a ceremonial obsidian dagger, slicing his palm and letting his dark Alpha blood drip into a golden chalice. Genevieve did the same.
Valente stepped forward. He took the blade. His movements were slow, mechanical, as if every fiber of his being was resisting the act. His black wolf roared within his mind, clawing at his skull, begging him not to bind their soul to a woman they didn't mate with.
"By the light of the Blood Moon," Duke Laurent proclaimed, his voice echoing across the courtyard, "we bind the Belmont and Laurent lines in blood, power, and sovereignty!"
Valente raised the blade to his palm.
Clack.
The sharp, echoing sound of a heavy wooden box dropping onto the stone steps shattered the ceremonial atmosphere.
A ragged, blood-soaked scout from the outer perimeter collapsed at the edge of the courtyard, his chest heaving. "Alpha King!" the scout gasped, coughing up crimson. "It's a trap! The Bloodhounds... they didn't attack the south!"
Valente paused, the dagger hovering a millimeter over his skin. "What are you talking about?"
"The south was a distraction!" the scout cried out, pointing a shaking finger at Duke Laurent. "The Laurent army... they opened the northern gates! The Bloodhound Syndicate is inside the territory! They are already at the inner perimeter!"
Gasps exploded across the gathered crowd. Valente’s head snapped toward Duke Laurent.
The Duke didn't look surprised. Instead, a cold, cruel grin spread across his face. He slowly wiped his bloody hand on a silk handkerchief.
"You took too long to make your decision, young King," Duke Laurent sneered, his tone dropping all illusion of diplomacy. "You thought you were buying an army? You were buying your own execution. The Bloodhounds offered us half your territory in exchange for opening your back door."
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Genevieve stepped back beside her father, her soft, elegant demeanor vanishing, replaced by the vicious gleam of a conspirator.
"Where is the girl?" Duke Laurent demanded, pulling a broadsword from beneath his cloak. "Kill the Alpha King, slaughter his council, and bring me the latent pregnant girl! The Syndicate leader wants her child's blood to break the royal wards!"
