Chapter 7

"Voric," Elara said, her voice calm and amplified, booming through every speaker in the Iron Bastion. "I have a question about the frequency jammer you planted in my bag."

Outside the glass, Voric froze. He looked up at the speakers.

"You used a sub-frequency of 44.2," Elara continued, her voice echoing in the mess hall, the barracks, and the armory. "Which is the specific frequency used by the Red River Pack. You framed me to incite a war, didn't you?"

Voric panicked. He yelled at the glass, his voice muffled but audible through the cell's pickup mic. "Shut up! You think they care? I’m going to kill you both and say it was a suicide pact!"

"And the poison gas?" Elara prompted, playing him like a fiddle. "Did you authorize that with the Council?"

"The Council is weak!" Voric shouted, his ego taking the bait. "Kaelen is weak! He let a human witch distract him! I am doing what must be done to make Blackwood strong!"

*Click.* Elara released the button.

"That should be sufficient data for a court martial," she said.

Kaelen started to laugh. It was a wheezing, painful sound, but it was genuine.

Seconds later, the hangar doors blasted open.

Fifty Enforcers stormed the room. They didn't need orders. They had heard the confession.

Voric didn't even have time to raise his gun before he was tackled, subdued, and dragged away.

The Enforcers surrounded the glass cell, looking at their Alpha.

Kaelen leaned against the glass wall, supporting himself. He nodded to his head of security.

"Clear the room," he mouthed.

The guards hesitated, then retreated, dragging Voric with them.

Silence returned to the hangar.