To Slay A Wolf King

Chapter 6: Midnight Prowl

I stood frozen in a doorway with my heart pounding against my chest like a trapped bird. Every muscle was tight. I wore training leathers. They were soft and quiet against the floor.

I took a breath through my nose. I tried to calm down. Get it together Tiana, I told myself. My fingers twitched against my thighs. You’ve been here before. You know the layout.*

"Man this place is creepy at night, " a voice whispered beside me.

It was Vance. He had followed me despite my warnings. He crouched low. His eyes darted to the end of the corridor. The grand library was there.

"I told you to stay in the barracks, " I whispered back. My voice was sharp but quiet. "If we get caught, Lucius won’t just lock us up. He’ll make an example out of us."

"I'm not letting you walk into the lion's den Commander, " Vance said. His jaw was tight. "You’ve been acting differently since the treaty. You're looking for something aren’t you? Something you haven't told me about."

I looked at him. I saw worry in his eyes. He was a kind man. a friend. In my life, he died defending our perimeter. We didn't know the wolves had hidden reinforcements. We didn't know because we didn't have the paperwork. We didn't have the truth.

"I'm looking for the slave ledgers, Vance " I said. I put it there plain and simple. "The secret ones. The documents show how many of our people Lucius has been quietly trafficking to the packs."

Vance’s eyes went wide. He stumbled back. His breath caught in his throat. "What? No... The King signed the alliance. He said all human prisoners were being released."

"He lied, " I said. The bitterness tasted like copper on my tongue. "He’s been lying from the start. In my past experiences we find out about these ledgers late. Months from now when half our people are already gone."

". How do you know they're in the private archive?" Vance asked. His hands shook slightly.

"Because that’s where he keeps his dirty secrets" I murmured as I turned my back to him. I looked at the iron-reinforced door at the end of the hall. "The guards rotate in two minutes. We have a sixty-second window to get inside."

Vance didn't hesitate. He wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers. He nodded. "I'm in. Tell me what to do."

"Watch the staircase " I said. "If you see a torch flicker you tap the wall twice. If you hear armor clinking you get out of here. Don't try to be a hero, Vance. Just run."

"Tiana I'm not leaving you"

"That’s an order Captain " I snapped softly. I used my commander's voice.

I didn't wait for him to argue. I slipped out of the doorway. glided down the hallway. My soled boots made no sound on the cold stone. My eyes were fixed on the iron lock of the private archive.

I reached the door. My breathing was shallow. My hands trembled slightly. I forced them to steady. I pulled out a piece of bent silver metal. It was a tool I had fashioned from a hair pin.

I shoved it into the lock. I tilted my head close to the wood. I listened for the clicks.

Tick. Click.

The heavy iron mechanism turned with a scrape. My heart leaped into my throat. I pushed the door open and pulled it shut behind me.

The private archive was freezing. The air was thick with the smell of paper and leather bindings. Moonlight poured through a window. It illuminated rows of wooden shelves packed with scrolls and ledger books.

I stood still for a second. I let my eyes adjust to the light. “Where would he keep them?” I thought. “Think like a wolf. Think like a tyrant.”

I marched past the history scrolls and agricultural records. Those were for show. I went into the back of the room. The shelves were hidden behind heavy velvet curtains. My hands moved frantically over the bindings. I pulled out books. I scanned the titles under the moonlight.

“Tax records. Troop movements. Mining yields.”

"Come on, come on, where is it?" I muttered. My voice was a whisper. My palms were sweating.

I remembered a conversation I had overheard. Lucius bragging to his ministers about a 'Black Ledger' bound in shadow-wolf hide.

I reached the shelf. I dropped to my knees. The stone floor was ice-cold. I began tearing through the heavy leather satchels.

Then my fingers touched something

It wasn't leather. It was rough and thick. It was completely black. My heart stopped as I pulled the book out. I flipped it open.

The first page was dated three weeks ago. Right in the middle of our peace negotiations.

I scanned the rows of names written in ink.

“District 4: 50 laborers moved to the Northern Ridge.”

“District 2: 30 women transferred to the Obsidian Mines.”

“Price per head: 200 silver pieces.”

My stomach twisted into a knot. Tears of anger stung my eyes. I refused to let them fall. I gripped the edges of the pages. The paper crumpled under my fingers.

"You monster " I breathed into the empty room. My voice trembled with grief and rage. "You were selling us out while I was picking out a wedding dress."

I shoved the ledger into my leather tunic. The cold hide pressed against my skin. It was a reminder of the war I was about to start. I needed to get this out. I needed to show Vance. I needed to show the rebel faction.

I stood up. My knees cracked slightly. I turned back toward the door. My eyes scanned the shadows.

Suddenly a dull thud echoed through the stone walls.

It wasn't the wind. It was a stone tapping against the wall.

Two times.

“Vances signal.”

My blood ran cold. My muscles locked up. “Someone is coming.”

I scrambled backward. I tried to find a place to hide. The archive was at an end. The shelves were flush against the walls. The narrow window was too high.

From the hallway heavy footsteps echoed. They weren't quick. They were slow and heavy. They dripped with authority. Each thud felt like a hammer striking my chest.

Lucius.

I knew that walk. I knew the weight of his stride. He was coming to his room.

I ducked behind the heavy velvet curtain. I pressed my spine flat against the stone wall. I squeezed my eyes shut. My hand flew to my mouth. I muffled the sound of my frantic breathing, My heart was beating loud. I was certain he would hear it.

They stopped. Right outside the oak door.

The iron handle gave a jolt as someone grabbed it from the outside. The metal scraped against metal, a sound that cut through the quiet room. The door began to open, a bit of bright light from the torch slicing through the darkness heading straight toward the curtain where I was hiding.