Chapter 5 The Council's Teeth

The knock at the gate wasn’t thunderous. It was soft. Calculated. Like the tap of a dagger against glass. Aria stood in the shadows behind the grand staircase, her breath caught in her chest. Mira peeked through a curtain, then turned to Aria, her voice barely a whisper. “They’ve sent the Inquisitor.” That name alone made Aria’s blood run cold. She’d heard whispers—everyone had—of the Council’s Inquisitor. A wolf without a pack, without allegiance, bound only to blood and silence. He didn’t ask questions. He extracted truths. No matter how deep they were buried. “Stay hidden,” Mira urged. “Don’t let them see you. Not yet.” Aria didn’t argue. She melted back into the corridor, heart pounding as the gates creaked open and footsteps echoed like a funeral march through the entrance hall. The scent hit her first. Not the earthy spice of Dominic or Mira’s herbal oils. No—this scent was wrong. Ashes and iron. Old blood and frozen breath. She found a narrow servant’s passage behind the study and crouched low, watching through a hairline crack in the wall as he entered. The Inquisitor was tall, draped in a charcoal cloak that didn’t shift as he walked. His hair was white—not aged, but as if burned of color. His eyes were black pits ringed with crimson. No iris. No soul. Mira bowed. “Lord Inquisitor. We were not expecting you.” He didn’t look at her. “Where is the Alpha?” “Gone to the capital. On Council’s summons.” “Convenient.” His voice was void. A blade, not a tone. Aria’s skin crawled. The Inquisitor’s gaze scanned the hall. She knew, even without seeing her, he could sense her. He had that kind of power. She forced herself still. A stone. A breathless shadow. He sniffed the air once. Frowned. Then moved forward. “I will remain in the Alpha’s home,” he declared. “Until he returns.” Mira’s hands twitched. “Of course.” “Have the east wing prepared,” he added. Aria’s heart jolted. That was the wing where she slept. --- That night, Aria didn’t sleep. She watched from the rooftop garden, wrapped in a cloak too thin for the mountain winds. The stars blinked overhead like indifferent gods. Below, the Inquisitor moved like smoke, trailing along the edges of the manor as if mapping it from memory. Not searching. Stalking. And when he paused beneath her window, looked up, and smiled—her blood turned to ice. He knew. --- The next morning, Mira woke her with shaking hands. “There’s something I need to show you.” They slipped into the northern archives, a forgotten room beyond the kitchens. Dust coated the shelves. Cobwebs shivered in the corners. Mira dug behind a false panel and pulled out a worn leather tome. “I found this in your father’s chest the night he died,” she said softly. Aria flinched. “My father was a traitor. They burned him alive.” Mira nodded. “And this is why.” She opened the book. Inside was a list of names—dozens of them—all marked with strange runes. Aria’s name was at the bottom. “What is this?” “Moon Blessed,” Mira whispered. “These are the children born during the lunar eclipses. Ones the Council hunted. Ones your father tried to protect.” Aria stared at her name. The ink shimmered faintly. She’d been marked from birth. “Dominic knew,” she said suddenly. “Didn’t he?” Mira didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. --- That night, the Inquisitor came to her door. Not knocking. Not asking. He entered. Aria stood in the center of the room, already dressed. Waiting. His black eyes took her in. “You’ve been marked,” he said without preamble. She didn’t flinch. “You wear the scent of prophecy.” Still, she didn’t answer. He stepped closer. “You don’t belong here, girl. You belong to something older. Wilder. Something the Council has buried for centuries.” She swallowed. “And yet here I stand.” He smiled again. It was like watching a corpse grin. “You won’t stand for long.” He reached into his cloak and drew out a knife. Silver. Barbed with crescent runes. Then he said the words that shattered her world. “Your mother died to hide you. Your father died to protect you. And now, Dominic Blackthorne dies because he loves you.” Aria lunged. Not in fear. In fury. ---