As the door to Alexi’s chambers closed behind Selene, the flickering light of the candles seemed to dim, casting longer, more menacing shadows across the room. The dagger she had left on the table gleamed in the low light, its ancient runes humming softly with power. The room fell into a heavy silence, broken only by the crackling of the dying fire.

Marcellus entered moments later, his expression darkened by the weight of recent events. "Do you believe her?" he asked without preamble, his eyes flicking to the dagger. "This sudden turn of loyalty? It reeks of treachery."

Alexi’s eyes were still on the dagger. "I believe she’s after something more. She has her own ambitions, and Vasilis’s failure gave her the opportunity she needed to switch sides. But that doesn’t make her any less dangerous."

"She handed over Vasilis’s dagger," Marcellus said, his tone skeptical. "That’s no small gesture."

"No, it isn’t," Alexi replied, his voice low. "But it’s a calculated move. She knew that by giving me this relic, she’d secure her place in my inner circle. The question is, what does she want next?"

Marcellus stepped closer, his expression grim. "We need to tread carefully, my Lord. If Vasilis is working with the fae, and Selene is playing both sides, this could unravel faster than we can react."

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Alexi nodded, his mind already turning toward the next steps. The Sanguine rebellion was still a threat, and now that he had the upper hand, Vasilis would become more desperate. But the dagger Selene had delivered gave him an opening—one he intended to exploit.

"We can’t afford to wait," Alexi said, his tone decisive. "We need to draw Vasilis out, force his hand. He’ll try to regroup, but if we strike before he’s ready, we can break his rebellion for good."

"And how do you intend to draw him out?" Marcellus asked, his voice filled with cautious interest.

Alexi’s eyes flicked back to the dagger, an idea already forming. "We use the dagger. Spread word that I’m planning to use it in a ritual to bind the relics of the Crimson Vault to my bloodline. Vasilis will know what that means. He’ll see it as a final betrayal—and he won’t be able to resist acting."

Marcellus’s eyes gleamed with understanding. "You want him to come to you."

"Exactly," Alexi replied. "Vasilis will think he’s coming for revenge, but in reality, he’ll be walking into a trap."

Marcellus bowed his head, his respect for Alexi’s strategy clear in his expression. "I’ll make the arrangements, my Lord."

As Marcellus left to carry out his orders, Alexi remained in the dimly lit chamber, his thoughts racing. The dagger had become more than just a symbol of power—it was a key, one that could unlock the final confrontation with Vasilis. But the deeper he ventured into this web of intrigue, the more dangerous the game became.

Vasilis would come. And when he did, Alexi would be ready.

But what Alexi couldn’t yet see was the other web being spun, far beyond the walls of Bloodmoor. The fae Prince, Zephyrion, had plans of his own—plans that would soon turn the tide of this war in ways none of them could have foreseen.