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Bloodmoor was quiet, a rare and dangerous calm settling over its towering spires and ancient walls. The recent events had left the court in a state of unease, with Lord Kallan and his co-conspirators exposed, their betrayal laid bare before the entire kingdom. But while Alexi had won this latest battle, the true war was still ahead. Zephyrion, the fae Prince, had yet to make his move, but everyone could feel the storm gathering.

Alexi stood in his private study, the thick stone walls of the castle feeling almost too close around him. His thoughts raced, his mind consumed by the events that had unfolded and the battles yet to come. The trap had worked—Kallan had been caught and removed from the court, his treachery revealed to all. But Zephyrion remained a looming threat, his influence growing with every passing day.

The fae Prince had remained quiet since Vasilis’s death, but Alexi knew better than to believe he had retreated. Zephyrion was a master manipulator, and his silence could only mean one thing: he was planning something far more dangerous than anything Alexi had faced so far.

As Alexi paced the room, Marcellus entered quietly, his expression grim. "My Lord, I’ve received word from our scouts. The fae forces are amassing near the eastern borders again. Zephyrion is preparing for something—though we’re not yet certain what."

Alexi stopped his pacing, turning to face Marcellus. "He’s waiting for the right moment to strike," Alexi said, his voice low. "Kallan’s failure has forced his hand. He can no longer manipulate from the shadows—he’ll have to move openly now."

Marcellus nodded, stepping closer. "The court is on edge, but they’re rallying behind you. The nobles fear Zephyrion, but they also fear what will happen if Bloodmoor falls. They know that their best chance of survival lies with you."

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Alexi’s eyes darkened, but he remained calm. "Fear can be a powerful motivator, but it’s a fragile foundation to build on. The court may stand with me now, but when Zephyrion makes his move, some may waver."

Marcellus frowned, his brow furrowed with concern. "Do you believe there are still more traitors among the nobles?"

"There are always traitors, Marcellus," Alexi replied, his voice sharp. "But fear of Zephyrion will keep them in line—for now. Our focus must be on preparing for what comes next."

Marcellus stepped back slightly, considering Alexi’s words. "And what comes next, my Lord?"

Alexi’s gaze turned toward the window, where the dark clouds of an approaching storm loomed over the horizon. "Zephyrion’s forces are gathering near the eastern borders. If he plans to attack, that will be his first move. We need to secure those borders before his armies can cross into our lands."

"Shall I ready the soldiers?" Marcellus asked, his hand already moving toward the sword at his side.

"Yes," Alexi replied, his voice filled with quiet determination. "And send word to the were-beasts. Garthor’s forces will be crucial in holding the eastern border. If Zephyrion breaks through, we’ll be fighting a war on two fronts, and Bloodmoor will fall."

Marcellus nodded. "I’ll make the arrangements immediately."

As Marcellus left the room, Alexi returned to the window, his thoughts once again turning to Zephyrion. The fae Prince had waited long enough, watching from the shadows as his pawns moved across the board. Now, with Kallan and Vasilis gone, Zephyrion would be forced to act directly—and Alexi knew that when he did, the true battle for Bloodmoor would begin.

But there was something else, something deeper that gnawed at Alexi’s mind. The emissary's cryptic warnings still echoed in his thoughts, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that there were more forces at play than even Zephyrion. The fae Prince was a formidable enemy, but Alexi sensed that he was only part of a larger scheme—one that threatened not just Bloodmoor, but the entire realm.

As the storm clouds gathered over the horizon, Alexi knew that the calm before the storm was about to end. And when it did, the fate of Bloodmoor would hang in the balance.

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