Chapter 16

sixteen

. . .

Thaumas

I exploded into motion as Katarina's scream sliced through the air, shoving me aside just in time to avoid the assassin's blade. The intruder moved with the lethal grace of a seasoned killer, a blur of shadow and death. As I struggled to regain my footing, I saw Katarina take a hit as her form crumpling slightly, but she turned and fired with unerring precision. The pulse bolt struck the assassin in the back, sending a sizzle of energy through their body.

The assassin faltered, collapsing to the ground, and I was on them in an instant. My talons wrapped around their throat, feathers bristling with the fury of a thousand suns. But as I looked down, I found only the lifeless shell of our assailant, their hood falling back to reveal a face twisted in agony.

"Kat," I gasped, spinning to her side. She slumped against the wall, her breaths shallow, a dark stain spreading across her side. "No, no, no. Stay with me."

"I'm... fine," she whispered, her voice laced with the defiance that had made me fall in love with her.

The clatter of armored footsteps heralded the Griffin warriors, weapons drawn and eyes wide with shock. Varkos was at the forefront, his gaze darting from the fallen assassin to Katarina and back to me. "What happened?"

"An assassin. After me, no doubt," I growled, lifting Katarina into my arms. "We need a healer. Now!"

Varkos nodded sharply, gesturing for his men to clear the way. "Take her to the infirmary. We'll deal with this."

As we rushed through the winding corridors, the weight of Katarina's form against me felt both grounding and unbearably fragile. My mind raced ahead, already piecing together the fragments of this deadly puzzle. Who would dare strike at me within the very heart of Blacktalon Keep?

The infirmary was a flurry of activity as we burst in. Healers immediately swooped to Katarina's side, their hands glowing with the soothing light of their craft. I held her hand, refusing to let go, watching as the color slowly returned to her cheeks.

"She'll be fine," one healer assured me, her voice gentle yet firm. "The blade missed any vital organs. She needs rest."

Relief surged through me, but it was short-lived. We still had a traitor to unmask, a plot to unravel. I turned to Varkos, who had followed us into the room. "We need to find out who sent that assassin. Someone within these walls wants me dead."

Varkos's eyes hardened. "We'll increase security, question everyone. Whoever it was, they'll pay for this."

Days melded together as we delved deeper into the labyrinth of intrigue. Katarina, now recovering rapidly, refused to be sidelined.We sifted through the layers of deception, unearthing secrets buried within the stone walls of Blacktalon Keep.

Our breakthrough came one night as Katarina and I pored over intercepted communications and coded messages. A pattern emerged, subtle but unmistakable. Someone had been funneling information to a faction of rebels within the clans, undercutting our efforts to unify against the Necrontyr threat.

We traced the threads back to a single name: Loran. An elder Griffin, trusted advisor, and the architect of our current turmoil. The realization hit like a hammer blow with the betrayal cutting deep.

Summoning the council, we laid out our findings. The air was thick with tension and the atmosphere crackling with unspoken accusations. Lord Leion'ct, my father, sat at the head of the table, his expression a mask of controlled fury.

"Loran," he said, his voice a razor's edge. "Explain yourself."

Loran stood, his feathers ruffled, eyes gleaming with a mix of defiance and something darker. "I did what I had to. For the good of Raptoria. You were leading us to ruin, Thaumas, with your offworlder ways and your human mate. We needed... a change."

"A change?" I spat, talons curling into the armrests of my chair. "You allied with our enemies, sold out our people, all for your twisted vision of ‘good'?"

Loran's gaze flicked to Katarina, a sneer curling his beak. "She is an outsider. She doesn't belong here."

Katarina, seated beside me, met his gaze unflinchingly. "I've bled for this cause, for Thaumas, for Raptoria. Can you say the same?"

The room fell silent, the weight of her words sinking in. Loran's eyes narrowed, but before he could retort, my father rose to his feet, wings flaring with righteous indignation.

"Enough." His voice echoed through the chamber, silencing all dissent. "Loran, you have betrayed us all. For that, there can be no forgiveness."

Guards moved to apprehend the traitor, but he reacted with a feral snarl, lunging at my father with a hidden blade. The room erupted into chaos, warriors leaping to protect their lord. But it was Katarina who moved fastest, her pulse rifle already trained.

A single, precise shot rang out, and Loran crumpled to the floor, the light fading from his eyes. The silence that followed was heavy with the finality of his treachery.

My father turned to Katarina, his gaze softening. "You have proven yourself this day, Katarina of Earth. You have the gratitude of Raptoria."

The weight of Katarina's form against me was both a grounding and unbearable reminder of her fragility. The healers worked swiftly, their glowing hands a blur as they poured energy into her wounds. The tension in the room was palpable, a collective holding of breath until they finally stepped back, nodding in assurance.

"She'll be fine," one healer said, her voice a gentle balm on my frayed nerves. "The blade missed vital organs. She needs rest."

I exhaled a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding, relief surging through me. But my mind was already racing ahead, piecing together the fragments of this deadly puzzle. Who would dare strike at me within the very heart of Blacktalon Keep?

Varkos, having followed us into the infirmary, stood at attention. "What happened?"

"An assassin," I growled, fury bubbling beneath the surface. "We need to find out who sent them. Someone within these walls wants me dead."

Varkos nodded sharply. "We'll increase security, question everyone. Whoever it was, they'll pay for this."

Days passed in a blur of frantic preparation and tense negotiations. The clans, long fractured by old wounds and new fears, coalesced into a fragile unity. Yet an undercurrent of tension persisted, a sense of impending doom that no amount of planning could dispel.

One evening, as the last rays of the blood-red sun bathed the Keep in a crimson hue, I found myself alone with my father in the grand chamber. The weight of our shared history hung heavy between us, a tapestry of unspoken words and buried grievances.

"Thaumas," he began, his voice softer than I had ever heard it. "There is something you must know. About the traitor, Loran."

I turned to him, my feathers bristling. "What is it, Father? What more could there be?"

He sighed, a sound laden with age and sorrow. "Loran was not acting alone. He had the support of someone... someone very close to you."

My mind raced, a storm of possibilities and half-formed suspicions. "Who?"

"Your brother, Tharos."

The name hit me like a punch to the gut, the air rushing from my lungs. Tharos, my younger brother, the one I had always tried to protect, the one I had left behind when I joined the Legion.

"I don't understand," I said, the words tasting like ashes. "Why would he do this?"

"He believes that you abandoned us, Thaumas," my father said, his eyes filled with a pain that mirrored my own. "He saw your departure as a betrayal, and Loran preyed on that resentment. They sought to undermine your return, to seize power for themselves."

The revelation left me reeling, a chasm of betrayal yawning beneath my feet. Tharos, my blood, had conspired against me, against us all. The weight of it threatened to crush me, to shatter the fragile unity we had fought so hard to achieve.

"Thank you for telling me, Father," I said, my voice steady despite the storm raging within. "We will deal with this."

As I left the chamber, my mind churned with plans and contingencies. Tharos's betrayal cut deep, but it also steeled my resolve. The true battle lay ahead, and I would not let this new challenge break us.

Katarina met me in the corridor, her eyes sharp with concern. "What is it, Thaumas?"

"Tharos," I said, the name a bitter pill. "He was in league with Loran."

Her eyes widened, but she nodded, her grip on my arm tightening. "What do we do?"

"We confront him," I said, a grim determination settling over me. "We root out every trace of this treachery and rally the clans. For Raptoria. For our future."