Chapter 22
772words
Blackrock Abyss.
3:00 AM.
Under the cloak of a moonless night, eight hundred of our finest warriors moved like ghosts, securing the high ground around the abyss.
I stood on a temporary command platform, observing the battlefield below through a pair of night-vision goggles.
Thanks to Byron's final message, we slipped past every sentry, every trap. We turned their fortress into our kill box.
"All squads, report," I ordered softly over the comm channel.
"North ridge in position. Twelve enemy sentries spotted."
"East canyon in position. Enemy main force estimated at two hundred."
"South cliff face in position. Large altar detected. Strong energy fluctuations."
"West exit sealed. The enemy has no escape route."
I looked at the tactical map in my hand. All the red dots were surrounded by our blue ones.
"Elias, are your snipers ready?" I asked.
"Ready to fire on your command," Elias's voice came through my earpiece. "Sandra, are you sure you want to begin?"
I raised the goggles again, looking deep into the canyon.
In a clearing surrounded by rocks, I saw the ancient altar.
Its black stone was covered in complex runes, glowing with a sinister silver light.
And next to the altar, I saw a familiar figure.
Byron.
He was bound to a stone pillar with silver chains, his head hanging low. He was clearly badly injured.
Standing beside him was a tall, powerful northern wolf.
That must be the leader of this operation.
"Target confirmed," I said calmly. "Light them up."
"Copy that!"
Instantly, the night sky was lit up by gunfire.
Eight hundred elite warriors attacked simultaneously, pouring down on the enemy from all sides like a tidal wave.
The northern rebels were completely unprepared, thrown into chaos by our sudden attack.
"Ambush! We're under attack!" Their panicked shouts echoed through the canyon.
But it was too late.
Our net had closed. There was no escape.
"Squad One, clear the northern sentries!"
"Squad Two, cut their communications!"
"Squad Three, take the high ground!"
The commands flowed from me, cold and precise. Each one a death sentence.
The Ancestor's Bloodline gave me an almost supernatural tactical instinct. I could predict the enemy's every move, see every weakness on the battlefield.
"Sandra," my father's voice was filled with awe over the comms. "Your command of the battlefield... it's like you were born for this."
"It's the power of the bloodline," I replied calmly, continuing to scan the battlefield.
The battle was going smoothly.
The northern rebels' resistance was crumbling fast.
Our casualties were minimal, while the enemy had already lost more than half their forces.
"Squad Four, prepare to assault the altar!" I ordered.
"Copy that!"
But just then, a loud voice boomed from a loudspeaker, echoing throughout the canyon:
"Cease fire!"
I raised my goggles, looking for the source of the voice.
The northern rebel leader had dragged Byron to the highest point of the altar.
One hand was wrapped around Byron's throat, the other held a silver dagger pressed against his heart.
"Little princess of the Silver Moon!" the leader's voice echoed. "I know you're listening!"
My hand tightened on the goggles.
"Give me the bloodline, and your broken Alpha lives. A fair trade, wouldn't you say, Queen?"
The fighting around us gradually stopped. Everyone was waiting for my decision.
"Sandra," Elias's voice came through my earpiece. "Don't be rash. This is obviously their last resort."
"I know," I lowered the goggles. "They want to use Byron as a bargaining chip to force me into the altar's effective range."
My father's voice came through as well: "Once you get near that altar, they can forcibly extract your bloodline. You absolutely cannot go."
I was silent for a few seconds.
Then, I looked at Byron on the distant altar.
Even from this distance, I could feel the weakness radiating from him.
His Alpha power was almost completely gone, his life force fading fast.
But what shocked me was that he seemed to feel my gaze.
He slowly lifted his head. Though he was covered in blood, his golden eyes still shone in the darkness.
He looked in my direction. There was no fear in his eyes, no despair. Only a strange sense of peace.
As if he had already accepted his impending death.
Then, I felt something.
A faint, shimmering thread connecting us.
The broken shards of our mate bond.
Though our official bond had been severed, in this moment of life and death, some deeper connection still remained.
Through that broken, shimmering thread, one final command reached me from his soul. His last act as an Alpha.
"Forget me. End this."
