Change of plans

Elara POV. I narrowed my eyes, my suspicion reaching its peak. “Why? Moonvale has never dealt with Bloodmoon—you’re neutral.” “Not before,” he corrected, his voice tinged with bitterness. “But Kael has done the same to several of our smaller packs on the border. His power and brutality have become too dangerous. And killing him in the town square would be suicide, only provoking a major war. We need a more detailed plan.” I hesitated. Trusting another wolf, especially one from a foreign pack, was the last thing I wanted to do. But he had saved me from an instant and ridiculous death, and actually, that was my plan too, which he was probably right about being reckless. "What's your name?" I asked, my tone still full of suspicion and defiance. "Dorian," he replied briefly. He then stepped closer, his eyes radiating cold seriousness. "I know how to get into Alpha Palace through an undetectable route. You want revenge, Elara? Follow me. But don't ever try to attack without my signal again. We will move according to my plan." I weighed my options. The chance to infiltrate Kael's lair, straight into the heart of his power, was far more tempting than dying in pieces on the streets of Bloodmoon without achieving anything. I slowly lowered my dagger, but did not put it away. "Fine. But if you betray me, Dorian, this dagger will be planted in your heart." Dorian gave a thin smile, one that didn't reach his eyes, just a cold curve of his lips. "I have no intention of betraying you. Let's take out that bastard Alpha." He turned, pulled his hood back over part of his face, and began walking down the dark alley, signaling for me to follow him. I glanced in the direction Kael had just passed. The frustration of failure still burned in my heart, but now it was mixed with new hope. I tightened my grip on the dagger and followed Dorian's shadow. As we continued through the darkness of the narrow alley, I asked him, my voice low, trying to pierce his cold silence. "How did you know my name?" "It's easy," Dorian replied without turning back to look at me. "You're famous throughout the werewolf pack. The lone wolf, named Elara. The only Silverfang left." I nodded, processing the information. Of course. My status was a valuable prize for anyone. "You've been following me since I was in the square earlier, haven't you?" I probed again. "No," he corrected. His steps on the damp ground felt incredibly light. "I've been following you for a long time." I paused for a moment. My curiosity piqued, overcoming my caution. "Could it be," I whispered, piecing together the puzzle. "You were the one at Mr. Rolf's shop, and you were the one who helped me escape from the Hunters in Ashvale?" Suddenly, Dorian stopped walking. He stopped abruptly, causing me to almost bump into his sturdy back covered by a cloak. I immediately pulled my body back, cursing under my breath. "Damn!" I hissed, annoyed that my reflexes had been disrupted. "Yes, it was me," he said, his voice containing a flat admission. Without giving me time to ask further questions, he immediately started walking again. I sighed, following his shadow. Damn, he wasn't just the mysterious man from Moonvale; he was also the spy who had been watching me for months. We passed through an increasingly dark corridor, the smell of moss and dirty water stinging my nose. “How did you know the secret passage to Alpha Kael’s palace?” I asked, my voice now more demanding. I adjusted my pace to stay right behind him. “Do you often go to Bloodmoon?” "Not often," he replied flatly, showing no emotion. His tall frame blocked the dim light coming through the crack in the roof. "Only a few times." I snorted cynically. "You're a highly trained Moonvale spy, aren't you?" I said confidently. I knew the movements of a spy well: efficient, calm, and always observing. "Your movements are too clean for a mere visitor." Dorian didn't respond. He just kept walking. His silence was far more annoying than any denial. However, I knew I was right. Dorian knew this secret path, then his calmness in the face of Hunter, and his months of surveillance on me—all indicated that Dorian was a much bigger player than he let on. I had to be wary of him, even as he led me toward my goal of revenge. We arrived at the end of the alley, where the thick stone walls of Alpha Palace should have been. Dorian stopped in front of a pile of musty-smelling burlap sacks. Without a word, he began to move them aside with quick, measured movements. Behind the pile of sacks, a narrow gap was visible, covered by old iron bars that were almost hidden by moss. "This is the entrance," whispered Dorian, his voice so low it was almost lost in the silence of the alley. I narrowed my eyes, leaning forward. "This is it?" "An old drainage channel. No one uses it anymore. Security here is minimal because no one would suspect such a dirty entrance." He knelt, took a flat tool from under his cloak, and began tinkering with the rusty bars. I scanned the surroundings once more. Above us, the daylight dimmed due to the dense buildings of Bloodmoon. “How much longer?” "Be patient," he growled softly, without turning his head. "Lower your voice, Elara. You're too noisy. Kael can smell you from a kilometer away if you keep tensing up like this." I gritted my teeth at his reprimand. It was difficult to calm down when I was only a few meters away from the man who had destroyed my life. However, I forced myself, pulling back my wolf energy, calming my racing heartbeat. Click. The sound of the lock opening broke the silence. Dorian immediately removed the bars, revealing a narrow, dark hole that smelled like a sewer. "You first," he ordered. I stared at the black hole, then shifted my gaze to Dorian's vague face. "If this is a trap, you'll die slowly," I threatened. Dorian just stared back, emotionless. "If you want to kill Kael, follow my orders." I snorted, accepting the challenge. My revenge was more important. I crouched down, pulled my hood tighter, and began crawling into the disgusting darkness, toward the heart of that bastard Alpha's lair. "Is this hallway long?" I asked, my voice whispering but sounding thunderous in the damp, dark, narrow space. I continued crawling, my knees and hands scraping against the rough stone floor. Dorian followed right behind me, his breathing calm. "It's not too far. And don't talk too much," Dorian replied, his voice now almost inaudible, a whisper. "Our voices echo here. Bloodmoon's guards are extremely strict when approaching the core of the palace." I gritted my teeth in frustration, but chose to swallow all my complaints. I obeyed. My focus shifted to movement: crawling as fast as possible without making any strange noises. The air here felt heavy, the pungent smell of dirt and dampness clinging to my clothes. The dagger at my waist felt heavy, my only faithful companion in this trapping darkness. Every inch I took was a small sacrifice, bringing me one step closer to Kael and my revenge. The passage finally began to slope upward, and the darkness gradually gave way to dim light. After a few breaths and a strong push, we reached the exit. Dorian moved first; he was in front of me now. With a skill that I quietly acknowledged, he pushed open the thick wooden cover of the hole, doing so without a single creak. He darted out, his body jumping lightly onto the stone floor. I followed him. We were in the palace basement—the smell of spices, fermenting wine, and dampness hung in the air. This was a storage room. Rows of large wine barrels and sacks of foodstuffs filled the room. The only light came from small cracks in the upper walls. I immediately stood up straight, massaging my aching back from crawling for too long. "Where are we?" I whispered, glancing around. Dorian pointed to the corner of the room made of solid wood. "The palace kitchen is behind that wall. We have to go up. Don't touch anything." I nodded, fully alert. We moved between stacks of barrels. My wolf instincts began to scream, sensing the presence of another wolf upstairs, a strong wolf. Dorian led the way to a narrow stone staircase hidden behind a wine rack. There, darkness enveloped us. We climbed the stairs slowly, our footsteps muffled by layers of old dust. "Remember, Elara," Dorian whispered before we reached the door above. He turned, his green eyes staring at me in the darkness. "One mistake, and you won't just die. You'll also become food for his hungry beasts." My breath caught in my throat. The threat was more terrifying than death. I nodded stiffly, tightening my grip on the dagger hidden beneath my cloak. That door was the gateway to my destiny, whether it was revenge or destruction. We slipped inside. The room must have been the palace's main kitchen—spacious, filled with the smell of roasted meat and pungent spices. Only a few servants were bustling about, probably because it was still daytime, so not many people were working in this area. Even so, the clanging of metal and their whispers were enough to raise the adrenaline in my body. Dorian led the way. His movements were swift and almost silent, signaling me to walk quickly, staying close behind him. We moved along the walls, avoiding the large tables where food was being prepared. I held my breath every time we passed a servant who was cutting ingredients. "We have to go to another room, over here, follow me," whispered Dorian, his voice muffled, audible only to me. We passed through a small corridor between the spice racks, and now we had passed the large kitchen full of food. We stepped into a dimmer side corridor, heading toward the heart of the palace. I tightened my grip on my dagger. Every second in here felt like walking on broken glass.