Chapter 21 : Under the Mask

  Location: Medical tent– Secure Communications Room

  The walls of the chamber hummed with low magic—pack tech fused with ancient runes, allowing long-range connection with the Alpha across realms. Kaden stood before the glowing rune-stone table, hands braced, his jaw tight.

  The static cleared. A flickering image of Alpha Rhys appeared, seated at a vast obsidian council table, his surroundings unfamiliar—high, arched ceilings and delegates from other supernatural races talking in the background.

  “Beta Kaden,” Alpha Rhys’s voice came through calm but stern. “Make it quick. The meeting is starting soon. If there’s anything relevant, add it.”

  Kaden nodded once. “Understood, Alpha. I’m reporting about the two vampires.”

  Alpha Rhys’s gaze sharpened. “The vampire merchant and the woman?”

  “Yes. “The male—Zagan—is too precise. During the ambush, he dropped six Thorn hunters in under a minute. No scent of fear, no hesitation. Not even when we were outnumbered.”

  Rhys leaned forward slightly. “The merchant is powered?”

  “Without a doubt,” Kaden said. “But it looks like a trained one. Former military maybe. And the female—‘Faith’—she didn’t even flinch when blood spilled everywhere. She carries herself like someone who's seen more than one battlefield.”

  “And yet, you haven’t detained them.”

  “They're in the medical tent. Watched, but not caged. Their stories are thin. She claims to be his slave, but they move like equals.”

  There was a pause. Alpha Rhys’s eyes narrowed.

  “I want their faces.”

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  Kaden didn’t hesitate. He turned to the rune-crystal recorder nearby and tapped a glyph. Two images shimmered into view: Zagan—stern, eyes sharp like a hawk in waiting. And Faith—pale, sun-marked, painfully ordinary.

  Alpha Rhys studied them. “Send these through the council mirror. I’ll have them reviewed.”

  “Do you suspect they’re part of something else?”

  “I don’t know yet,” Rhys muttered. Behind him, a cloaked elf leaned in to whisper something before disappearing back into the chamber shadows. “But I trust you, Kaden. Keep them close, but do not provoke them until I know more"

  Kaden nodded again. “Understood.”

  “Good.” Rhys’s image began to shimmer, fading. “I’ll contact you once the council responds. Until then, don’t let them out of your sight.”

  As the magic faded and the room dimmed, Kaden stood still for a beat, eyes flicking to the crystal images still hovering in the air.

  He muttered under his breath, “What the hell are you two?”

  Then, turning on his heel, he walked out.

  The desert didn’t pause for councils.

  While decisions formed across realms, the medical tent held two truths no one knew how to name yet.

  --------

  The sun had mellowed, casting golden shadows through the flap of the tent. Zagan sat near the open window, the wind tousling his hair. His recovery was almost complete—physically, at least. But not hers. He knew too well how close death had brushed past her.

  Before he was Evanora’s third-in-command, Zagan had another title: Lord Zagan of House Virellion, a minor noble house on the outskirts of the Vampire Realm.

  He was never meant for court. While others memorized alliances and etiquette, Zagan trained in silence—learning the tunnels beneath the castle, mastering shadowplay, and perfecting how to kill without leaving a mark.

  Then came the betrayal.

  His father was accused of treason. His house was stripped of its lands. His name erased from noble records. The entire court watched as the House Virellion seal burned before the high fangs.

  Zagan didn’t beg. He didn’t protest.

  He disappeared.

  Years later, the Vampire Realm whispered of a shadow that struck before threats reached the gates—a lone vampire who moved like smoke and killed like lightning.

  Evanora saw him during a rogue coven’s ambush. She didn’t thank him. She didn’t ask why he fought at her side when others faltered.

  She only studied him, unimpressed by the map of scars and intrigued by the precision of his violence.

  “You fight with the hunger of the true undead,” she said. “I’m offering you a post—my Third-in-Command. Will you stand your ground like the sworn steel you are?”

  Zagan tilted his head. “Is it your habit to collect broken things?”

  “Only the ones that kept their edge,” Evanora replied, smiling coldly.

  He was the only Exanimate who never attended her recruitment.

  And for the first time since losing everything, Zagan had something worth protecting.