NOVEL NEXT Chapter 184: A Vow
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The hideout was a frenzy of motion, a storm of bodies and voices clashing in a space too small to contain the weight of what was coming. Cyrin had wasted no time after the Queen's decree. He rallied every soldier he could find, his voice booming over the chaos, his sharp commands cutting through hesitation. Warriors sharpened their blades and strapped on armor, their movements fueled by grim determination. Even the students, were gathering weapons, their faces pale but stubborn. They were scared, yes, but they weren't backing down. Not now, not when their Queen had given the order herself.
Still, for all their noise, Magnus could not shake the gnawing certainty in his chest. Numbers didn't lie. Numbers decided wars. And right now, the numbers were damning.
The book Alistair had risked his life to bring lay open on the table before him, its worn pages filled with meticulous notes and troop records. Magnus's eyes raked across the figures again and again, hoping he had misread, hoping some detail might shift in their favor if only he stared long enough. But the truth refused to change.
The Crimson Hunt had 1,214 soldiers currently stationed within the academy itself. That was already more than enough to crush them. But beyond the academy's walls, spread across the Crimson Hunt's vast networks and barracks, there were 15,614 men at the ready. The soldiers they currently had on ground to fight for them was only about a thousand.
Magnus's hand clenched over the edge of the book until the leather cover groaned under his grip. His years as a Lycan commander whispered calculations into his mind, casualty ratios, ambush strategies, supply line chokeholds, but none of it mattered if they didn't have the time to prepare. And the Queen had given them none.
With a heavy sigh, Magnus pushed away from the table. The sound of armor clanging, swords sliding into sheaths, and students whispering followed him as he crossed the room. He found Astrid standing against the far wall, half hidden in the shadows, her posture unnervingly still amidst the chaos. Her arms were folded, her face carved into an unreadable mask, as if she were watching a play unfold that she already knew the ending to.
"We shouldn't be going for battle right now, Astrid," Magnus said, his voice low but edged with iron. "Why are you not saying anything?"
Astrid didn't even glance at him. She only shrugged, a movement so casual it burned him. "The Queen made a decree. And she made it clear it was not up for questioning."
Magnus ground his teeth, his jaw aching with the effort to hold back the growl rising in his throat. "This is a suicide mission, and you know it. We've gone through this Crimson Hunt book, look at what's in this book Astrid. These aren't vague notes, these are vital records. Movements, strengths, weaknesses. Information that could give us an edge if we were allowed to actually sit and plan." He leaned closer, his voice dropping into a harsh whisper. "But no. We're going in like this. Charging in blind."
That finally earned him a glance. Astrid's eyes flicked toward him, cool and sharp, before settling back on the wall opposite. "We are not charging in blind, Magnus. You have that book with you."
His hands curled into fists. "Information alone doesn't win wars."
Astrid pushed herself off the wall, her boots clicking softly against the stone floor. She turned to him fully now, her voice calm, even detached, but every word landed like a hammer against iron.
"Whatever plan you think you would have made if we had time, make it now. You're a warlord. You commanded Lycan armies for years before you became the Alpha King's right hand. Do not stand here and tell me this is something you cannot do."
Magnus's lips pulled back in a grimace. "You make it sound so simple."
"Because it is," Astrid said, stepping closer until her presence pressed against him, unwavering. "You treat this as you treated every war you've ever fought. Most times, during war, we do not have the leverage of time. Do we?"
Her words cut deep because they were true. How many battles had he fought where strategy had been written in blood on the battlefield itself, forged in the chaos of the moment? How many times had he survived precisely because he hadn't waited for the luxury of perfect preparation?
Astrid reached out and tapped his chest lightly with two fingers "So do what you've always done. Make it work. Because this isn't just another war, Magnus. This is the one that decides everything."
With that, she brushed past him, her cloak trailing in her wake as she moved back into the sea of bodies preparing for battle.
Magnus stood frozen, his chest rising and falling in heavy breaths
But Astrid was right. The Queen had decreed. The army was moving. And he, whether ready or not, would have to become the warlord again.
The echo of Astrid's boots followed her down the dimly lit corridor as she left Magnus behind. His voice still lingered in her ears, his warnings heavy with foreboding, but her mind was fixed elsewhere. She made her way toward the Queen's room, her steps steady, though inside, unease gnawed at her.
The heavy oak doors stood slightly ajar, a soft glow of torchlight spilling from within. Astrid paused. She could see the Queen inside, she was fastening the last piece of her armor, her movements precise. The sight struck Astrid, the Queen looked every bit the warrior she was born to be, and yet beneath that steel, Astrid could almost sense the restless beast clawing at its cage.
"My Queen," Astrid's voice was calm but quiet as she stood at the threshold.
The Queen turned, her eyes softening the moment they found Astrid. "Come in," she said, her tone commanding yet warm. She studied Astrid for a brief moment before speaking again. "You are unusually silent today, Voss."
Astrid inclined her head slightly. "I was never much of a noisy person, my Queen."
A rare smile touched the Queen's lips, faint but genuine. "True. Still, you must have had a reason for standing outside my door while everyone else prepares for battle."
Astrid hesitated, weighing the words in her mind. She had sworn loyalty, but loyalty sometimes meant daring to speak the words that might not be welcome. Slowly, she nodded. "This might be a little out of place, my Queen…. but I think you should sit this battle out."
For a heartbeat, silence stretched between them. Then the Queen scoffed, a dry chuckle escaping her lips as she adjusted her gauntlet. "When did you start making jokes, Astrid?"
"It is not a joke, my Queen." Astrid's voice grew firmer "You must understand, we did not permanently heal you of the ghosthound. What we did…. it was only a subduing. We caged the beast, your wolf, and it was never meant to last. If you step into that battlefield, if you shed blood again, it will be like dangling raw meat in front of a starving creature. The cage will shatter, and your wolf will break free. When that happens.…" She drew in a sharp breath. "…you will lose all control of who to kill and who not to kill."
The Queen's eyes darkened with an unreadable expression as she walked closer. She stopped only a step away from Astrid, her gaze sharp and unwavering.
"My only son is in danger, Astrid Voss," she said softly, each word carrying the weight of her heart. "Do you think I planned to go into battle with only my blade and my powers? No. I plan to go as the ghosthound itself, because only the ghosthound can carve through the blood and chaos fast enough to save him."
Astrid felt the air leave her lungs. "But my Queen, if you unleash it… there is no going back...."
The Queen silenced her with a touch, her gloved hand closing gently but firmly around Astrid's wrist. Her grip was cold, resolute. "I am already beyond going back, Voss."
Her gaze flickered toward a small table at the far side of the room. Astrid followed it, and froze. There, resting in the dim torchlight, was an empty glass vial, its rim still stained faintly green. She recognized it instantly. Nightshade's Kiss. A poison whispered about in hushed tones, one so lethal it claimed its victim within three hours of ingestion, its effects irreversible.
Astrid's lips parted in horror. "You…. you've taken it?"
The Queen's expression softened, though her eyes still gleamed with fire. "Yes. So you see, you do not have to worry about what happens when the ghosthound is unleashed. I have already written my ending. When my time runs out, this curse dies with me."
"But my Queen…" Astrid's voice trembled despite herself. "There must be another way. If you fall, if you let the beast out..."
"No." The Queen shook her head with finality, her hand tightening slightly over Astrid's. "Like I said, I am far beyond saving."
Astrid wanted to argue, to beg her to think again, but she saw the steel in the Queen's eyes, the unshakable resolve that no words could move. The Queen had already chosen her path, and there was nothing she could do about it.
"The only thing I need from you," The Queen continued, her voice gentler now, though every word cut deeper than any blade, "is that you stay by my son's side after we save him. The kingdom is rotten to its bones. Everyone hungers for power, hides behind false smiles and poisoned tongues. There is no one I can trust without question…. except you."
Astrid swallowed hard.
She dropped to one knee, bowing her head before the woman who was her Queen
"You have my vow, my Queen," Astrid whispered. "I will protect him with my life."
The Queen reached down and lifted Astrid's chin until their eyes met. A sad smile curved her lips. "That is all I ask. The throne will need someone loyal, not ambitious. Someone willing to stand in the shadows and guard him from within. Be that person, Astrid Voss."