Chapter 4 Shattered Truths

Chapter Four

It took Silas nearly an hour to reach the inner camp.

He'd dragged himself through thickets, across broken paths, bleeding from wounds too deep to ignore. His horse had collapsed halfway there, and he'd walked the rest-stumbling, limping, guided only by sheer will.

Every step was agony.

Every breath a scream in silence.

By the time he reached the camp, the guards barely recognized him-clothes soaked in blood, skin ash-pale, eyes sunken with exhaustion. When he collapsed just past the gates, they scrambled to lift him, calling for help.

But Silas fought them off.

"Take me... to Kael," he gasped, voice raw, barely audible.

They hesitated only a moment before carrying him, nearly unconscious, through the winding paths toward the Alpha's quarters. Silas tried to stay awake-muttered words, broken phrases, but none of it clear.

Kael was already at the door when they arrived, alerted by the chaos.

He froze at the sight.

Silas-his second, his old friend-nearly dead in the arms of two guards.

Kael rushed forward, his face tight with shock. "Set him down. Gently."

Silas reached out, bloodied fingers gripping Kael's sleeve.

"I-" he wheezed, eyes wild with urgency. "Ronan... I saw... they took him-he's not-he's not dead-"

Kael bent lower, trying to catch each word. "Who, Silas? Who took him?"

Silas's lips trembled. He opened his mouth again, desperate to speak, to name the face he'd seen.

But the words wouldn't come.

His body gave in first.

His eyes fluttered shut.

And before Kael could shout for a medic, Silas was gone-his last breath stolen by whatever truth he had carried across the wilderness.

Kael stood frozen for a long moment, his hand still gripping Silas's lifeless form, as though he could pull him back from the edge of death if he just held on tight enough. But Silas was gone-his body slack, his face twisted in a final grimace of pain and desperation.

Kael's breath hitched in his throat, his pulse pounding in his ears. This was no ordinary loss. Silas wasn't just his second-in-command. He wasn't just another warrior lost in a battle. Silas had been a brother, a partner in everything they'd built together. And now he was gone-taken by whatever had brought Ronan down.

His eyes swept over the blood-soaked ground, the remnants of Silas's journey to get here, and Kael felt the weight of the loss hit him like a blow to the gut. But something else lingered-an emotion sharper than grief, colder than anger: fear.

Fear of the unknown. Fear of who, or what, could have taken Ronan-and now Silas. Fear of the truth that had died with him.

Kael turned his head slowly, meeting the eyes of the guards who had helped carry Silas in. Their faces were grim, but Kael could see the same fear in their eyes. They knew what this meant. This wasn't a random attack. This wasn't just another skirmish. This was something bigger. Something far darker.

"Get him out of here," Kael said, his voice barely more than a growl. His command was automatic, a leader's reflex to regain control. The guards moved quickly, but Kael barely noticed. His eyes were still locked on Silas's body, the blood, the dirt, the brokenness of it all.

For a long time, Kael stood there, his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths. He felt an ache that wasn't just physical-his mind raced with the weight of the unanswered questions. Silas had come all this way, had dragged himself through hell to get here, and yet he'd never finished what he started. The truth of what had happened to Ronan was locked away forever, buried with him.

Kael clenched his fists, his jaw tightening with frustration. He had to know. He had to find out who-or what-had done this. For Ronan. For Silas. For the people they had lost along the way.

But first, there was something else he had to do. He needed to make sure Eira didn't learn the truth. Not yet. Not until he had a plan. Not until he could control the chaos.

The hours passed in a haze. Kael found himself standing outside Eira's room, his mind heavy with the weight of what he was about to do. He had to make a choice. He had to make sure she stopped waiting for Ronan to return. He couldn't afford to let her cling to the past anymore, not when the truth was too painful.

When he opened the door, Eira was sitting by the window, staring at the fading light outside. Her posture was slumped, shoulders heavy with exhaustion. She didn't even look up when Kael entered.

"Eira," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Her shoulders tensed at the sound of his voice, but she didn't look at him. "What's happened?" she asked quietly, her voice raw from grief and sleepless nights.

Kael closed the door behind him and walked toward her. The scent of the camp was heavy on him, but it didn't matter. He set the tray of food down beside her, watching her still, unmoving form.

"I've... I've got news."

She didn't respond, but the silence between them was deafening. He had to say it. He had to keep her from holding onto hope. She wouldn't believe him. She couldn't. But he had to try.

"Silas..." Kael began, his voice faltering for a brief second. "Silas didn't make it. He-he didn't survive."

Eira's face didn't change. She wasn't surprised. She had probably been expecting this, after all the days of uncertainty. But Kael saw the shift in her eyes-something small, something that told him she was holding on to the one thread of hope she had left.

"And Ronan?" Her voice was quieter, almost afraid to ask.

Kael felt his throat tighten. There was no turning back now. The truth was irrelevant. Ronan was never coming back. He had to stop her from waiting. He had to make her believe that she needed to let go.

"Ronan's gone too," Kael said, his voice flat, the lie coming out so easily that it startled him. He didn't even have to force it. "He's gone, Eira. There's nothing left of him. No body. Just... nothing."

Her expression fell, and her lips parted as though she was trying to process his words. But he could see the doubt in her eyes. The small, fragile hope still flickered there, just barely hanging on.

"What do you mean 'gone'?" she whispered. "You mean... dead?"

Kael nodded, though his chest felt tight with every word he spoke. "Yes. He's dead, Eira. He's never coming back."

Eira's face crumpled, and before Kael could even react, her eyes welled up with tears. She tried to hold them back, but they spilled over, streaming down her cheeks. Her breath hitched, and she pressed her hands to her face, as though she could stop the sorrow from escaping.

Kael's heart ached for her, but he stood still, not knowing what to do. It was too late for comfort now. His choices were made.

Eira finally dropped her hands and looked at him, her eyes red and swollen. The weight of his words hit her fully, and her body seemed to collapse inward, trembling with emotion. Without saying a word, she slid closer to him, resting her head gently against his shoulder. The silent sobs shook her frame.

Kael's chest tightened at the feeling of her tears against his skin. He didn't move at first, unsure of how to respond. Then, he slowly raised his arm, wrapping it around her shoulders, but he kept his distance. He had to make her see that Ronan was gone-once and for all.

"I'm here, Eira," Kael whispered softly, his voice almost lost in the quiet room. "You don't have to face this alone."

She didn't answer. She didn't need to. Her crying was enough of a response. Kael gently stroked her hair, trying to soothe her in the only way he knew how. In that moment, he realized that she wasn't going to just let go of Ronan-not yet, at least. He would have to be patient. But for now, he would stay, hold her close, and make sure that she would eventually see what he was offering.

"I'll take care of you," he murmured again, his voice thick with promise. "You don't have to worry about anything."

And as Eira clung to him, her body trembling with sobs, Kael knew that he would make her forget about Ronan-eventually. It was just a matter of time.