Chapter 51: The Royal Knife
Adam’s voice wasn’t loud, yet it carried a crushing, dominant weight that instantly silenced the room and turned every single eye toward the BloodVeil King.
"The reason he cannot tell you where the boy is," he smiled. "Is because his men never got their hands on him."
Rhea’s brows furrowed, her mind racing in a hundred different directions as her heart skipped a beat. What is Adam doing? Is he finally about to expose the secret he had been hoarding for so long?
Adam’s steady gaze remained locked onto Kaleb, the corner of his lip twitching into a cold sneer. "He will not be able to give you the location because he doesn’t have it," he said, his tone dripping with dark amusement.
He paused, turning his heavy shoulders to face the high elders and the rest of the silent gallery. "The great Alpha of Ironfang has absolutely no clue what happened to the child because someone snatched the pup right out from under his nose, the exact second he gave the command to have his own son murdered."
A collective gasp sucked the air straight out of the room, followed by a suffocating silence.
"What?" Rhea’s voice was barely a whisper, but it sliced through the suffocating tension like silver. Her eyes nearly stretched from their sockets as her neck snapped toward Kaleb, her nostrils flaring as she inhaled the heavy, copper scent of her own rising horror. "You ordered him to be slaughtered? Your own pup?"
"That is a foul, rotting lie!" Kaleb snapped, his chest expanding as his dominant aura flared defensively, throwing off a sour, panicked musk. "Alpha Thorne is playing a treacherous mind game! It is disgusting to think you would even buy into that, Rhea!"
Adam simply smiled, his massive frame remaining perfectly loose, completely unbothered by Kaleb’s posturing. He held Rhea’s fractured gaze, his golden eyes unwavering, steady as an anchor in a storm.
"Kaleb ordered that the boy’s throat be sliced while you were on your sickbed, Luna. He knew full well that his mistress was systematically draining your son’s life with poison, and he chose to finish the job."
The remaining air in the stone chamber vanished.
The high elders leaned forward over the dais, their sharp, predatory gazes tightening with a rare flash of genuine shock.
Deep inside Rhea’s skull, River let out a fractured, agonizing howl, a sound so steeped in betrayal and maternal grief that Rhea’s hands began to shake violently against her thighs.
Kaleb’s eyes flickered across the judgment hall, his pupils contracting into wild slits. He slammed his fists onto the wooden railing and stood up firmly, his shoulders rigid. "He is a liar! I did no such thing!" he barked, his throat expanding with a ragged, heavy breath.
"You didn’t?" Adam asked. He tilted his head, his tone infuriatingly calm, mocking the younger Alpha’s frantic display.
"You heard me right! I did no such thing!" Kaleb shot back, throwing his chin up with such absolute, unyielding confidence that even River’s rabid snarling faltered for a fraction of a second. Could he be telling the truth?
Adam nodded slowly, the corners of his lips curling as he looked at the sweating Alpha. Then he turned his heavy shoulders to face the high dais. "I knew the Ironfang coward would hide behind a wall of denials. That is why I made sure to bring along the executioners he hired."
"What executioners? This is an absolute circus!" Kaleb snapped, a bead of sweat tracing down his hardened jaw. "He is bluffing, elders! He has nothing!"
"Well, you are currently the biggest clown in this theater, nephew," Adam shot back effortlessly, his deep baritone cutting through Kaleb’s panic. He offered a respectful nod to the high tier. "Elders, if you will allow it, I would like to bring in three of Kaleb’s trusted vanguards. Tom, Eric, and Jonah."
Rhea’s heart was pounding a frantic, relentless rhythm against her ribs now, the sound roaring in her ears. Her silver eyes tracked the slow, heavy nods of the elders’ heads.
Moments later, the heavy iron-reinforced doors groaned open, and three scarred, burly warriors walked into the room.
Kaleb’s face immediately twisted into a mask of pure fury before the men had even fully crossed the threshold. "Who the hell let these omegas? They do not bear the scent of Ironfang! I have never seen these pathetic faces in my life!"
Daniel shook his head from his seat, his voice cutting through his former Alpha’s roaring. "They are members of your front-line vanguard, Kaleb. I marched with them myself."
"You will only open your pathetic jaws when I command you to!" Kaleb bellowed at him, his dominant aura spiking violently. He whirled back to the elders, his finger trembling as he pointed at the newcomers. "They were following my Beta’s orders. They acted without my knowledge."
"Seal your lips now, Alpha, and let this Council carry out its duties," Elder Seraphine said, her ancient, gravelly voice laced with a deep, crushing frustration.
Kaleb’s nostrils flared, his heavy boot tapping a restless, frantic rhythm against the stone floor as he forced his jaws shut, the scent of his rage turning toxic.
The three warriors stepped into the center of the chamber, their postures remarkably confident, their shoulders square before the high tier.
"Tell this Council what you know about the disappearance of Eli, the trueborn heir of Ironfang," Elder Magnus commanded, leaning his heavy forearms on the table.
"We were personally assigned by Alpha Kaleb to drag the cub into the deep trenches of the winter forest," Jonah spoke first, his voice flat, devoid of remorse. "We were told to drop him in the brush so that the wild beasts could tear him apart and eat him up."
A sharp gasp escaped Rhea’s lips before she could lock it behind her teeth. A hand flew to her mouth, her eyes burning with hot, suffocating tears. "Oh, Kaleb," she whispered under her breath, the reality crushing her lungs.
"The Alpha also explicitly ordered that if the wild beasts did not show up to do the deed quickly," Eric revealed, reaching beneath his heavy leather furs, "we were to use this silver steel to cut the boy’s throat cleanly." He held up a long hunting knife.
Every eye in the room widened, a collective, horrified gasp rippling through the crowded gallery.
Elder Rowan reached down, taking the heavy knife from the warrior’s hand. He turned it over beneath the torchlight. The royal wolf crest gleamed across the silver. He lifted his eyes to Kaleb. "This knife was forged exclusively for the Ironfang royal family," he murmured, looking toward his fellow councilors.