The Alpha's Blind Fate
Chapter 142: Monitor Her Every Move

Chapter 142: Monitor Her Every Move

DAEMON

"I’ve been itching for some action, put me to work already, your majesty." Marcus said with a flamboyant bow that did nothing to betray the darkness sewn shut on his face.

Marcus had finally arrived at the Arctic North that afternoon with a thousand elite soldiers of the DireWolf Pack. Daemon could slowly see his plans taking shape but there was still so much to do, and out of them, finding the ten million grams of gold gave him the most headache.

Despite Fionna’s confidence in breaking Lykom Lupus they had made no headway. A total of two hundred and forty tortures were meted on the man by the relentless and ruthless Red Hand before he finally broke. However, the only information the man had only set them on a fucking goose chase that was nothing short of an annoyance.

It was quite disappointing to know that Eldric didn’t trust his lover that much, a fact that applied to the man himself. Daemon had been restraining himself from having to torture him to that point, but at that point, he might have to give Eldric to the Red Hand and then leave them to their devices.

The problem was the fact that it truly seemed as though Eldric knew very little of said money that he collected himself. The gold had been diluted and pieces of it were strewn all over the five regions in different hands that were to hold it in trust. Apparently, the only person that knew of the Broker that brokered the deal was Moorim, and the man was an even harder nut to crack even when all his teeths and nails were removed and he was drowned in silver boiling water.

Even when the man was thrown to the streets and shamed, and even when he was tied at the city gates, his mouth forever remained shut.

Daemon almost admired his tenacity if not for the fact that it was getting in his way.

Chuckling, Daemon said to Marcus. "You just came back from a grueling journey. Should you not be taking some rest."

Marcus scoffed, "Don’t give me that shit, cousin."

Daemon circled the Map Table while studying the scrolls and scrolls of reports strewn on them. To ensure his plan about the Iron Coasts of the West came to fruition, he had to expand his knowledge of Geography.

"You’re my beta of the DireWolf Pack. You should be returning back to the south, cousin."

Marcus rolled his eyes. "You mean I should squat at some suffocating offices while signing reports when all the action is happening here? No thanks, Alpha. In that case, feel free to pass my title to any other person that pleases you."

Daemon had expected his response, which was why he was grateful for the Delta of the DireWolf pack who loyally served his uncle till the very end. Currently, he was running the administration of the pack and sending in reports every two days by pigeon.

It only meant extra work for Daemon as he would have to peruse through them and give a reply. Already, Marcus had made it constantly clear that he was not made for anything that had nothing to do with action.

Daemon couldn’t say he didn’t respect that.

Marcus’ expression turned serious and Daemon could almost see the question in his eyes before the man asked it. "I heard Freya is here." He said grimly.

Daemon chuckled. "On that note since you’re itching for some action, I have something you’ve to do for me."

"What is it?" Marcus asked skeptically as if he couldn’t believe the possible correlation between his need for an action, and the fact that Freya was currently at the Arctic North.

"I need you to spy and report on every one of her movements. Freya’s I mean."

Marcus looked genuinely confused at the sudden order, but being the man he is he didn’t ask questions about it.

"Why not Yaren? The man is better at spying than I am." Marcus huffed.

Daemon harshly snapped the scroll he was reading close, the gesture conveying how serious he was being.

"For goodness’s sake, Marcus, this is not some babysitting job." Daemon enunciated, meaning every word.

"Do you think something is wrong with her?" Marcus asked gravely, looking concerned.

Daemon huffed a breath. "I can’t really say but she is said to be from the Iron Coast." Daemon mulled, remembering the sparse pieces of information the House Z’s delivered to him on Freya’s whereabouts in the past years.

"I mean her family was banished Daemon, the only place she could have taken refuge would have been at the Iron Coast."

Daemon shook his head. He knew that of course, but that was not the basis of his suspicion.

"Her timing is just... off."

"She came here on her own?" Marcus asked with a frown.

Daemon scoffed lightly. "She alleges that she was kidnapped by some ritual movement in the West. Says she doesn’t know how she ended up in the Arctic North with her wrists slit and her body sprawled at the castle’s gates."

Marcus looked to be mulling the information over. Regardless of the fact that he was a man that was all for the action, he was also one of the brainiest people Daemon knew of whenever the man actually tried to think.

"Her claims are not exactly off." Marcus said, "Ritual movements in the West have been spreading like wildfire. Witches, sorcerers and whatnot have infested the entire place. I hear it reeks of incense and blood there."

Daemon chuckled, glancing back at the West part of the map—the Iron Coasts. "Work closely with House Z’s while monitoring her." He instructed Marcus, not taking his eyes off the map.

Marcus’ features darkened on hearing that. "Must I work with those two insufferable women?"

Before Daemon could respond that he must work with them whether he was fond of it or not, commotion carried on to him from the door of his office.

"Theta, the Restorer has asked us not to let anyone in...."

Marcus rolled his eyes while Daemon waited for a flicker of annoyance to rear its head within him. Instead, all he felt was a strange sense of happiness like his stress that day was about to be eased. His damn wolf whistled at the presence of their mate.

Daemon sighed, shaking off the emotions that must have been triggered by his stress and lack of sleep. If anything, it didn’t seem as though Zina WolfKnight was visiting him for something good.

"Allow her entrance, V." Daemon commanded in a loud voice to his seven foot tall guard who was a Lycan Shifter.

The door opened, and a flash of white was barrelling to them.

Zina looked angry. She looked incensed, but more than that, she looked hurt... an emotion Daemon was seeing for the first time in the woman who didn’t know that she bottled her emotions in even more than he did.