The Alpha's Blind Fate
Chapter 154: Playing The Shorter Game

Chapter 154: Playing The Shorter Game

There’s revenge really, and there’s taking from your enemy until there’s nothing left of him.

ZINA

The words barely registered with Zina as she was too far lost in her head to even process them. But when they did sink in, Zina was truly stunned at Modrich’s idiocy.

The man had barged into the North, flagrantly showing off his wealth and then finally offering some woman to become Daemon’s wife. In that attempt, not only had he insulted Zina by calling her all but an outcast that paraded the WolfKnight’s name, but he had also brushed the mate bond between her and Daemon as something that could be so easily bought with money.

That was something even the far bigger packs had never attempted, and yet, Modrich was bold enough to attempt so.

It occurred to Zina that the man had probably heard about the ’loud commotion’ Daemon caused in his attempt to find the ten million grams of gold that still remained a mystery. It was probably that fact that lent the man the boldness to stand tall before Daemon—flanked by the Red Sisters as his protectors—while he blatantly towed the borders of disrespect for all that cared to see.

But something felt...off. Something Zina couldn’t place her fingers in. Like the fact that Daemon might have somewhat orchestrated the offer Modrich was making for it suddenly felt like he had made such a bold move in beheading the men under Eldric’s rule so word of the missing money would inadvently spread out.

Daemon appeared to be deep in thought as if considering the offer, his act was so perfect that if Zina had not experienced the foundations of his manipulativeness for her own self, she would have bought it as well.

Modrich pressed forward shamelessly. "I know you intend to wage war against the White Monks for attempting to hurt your Theta. War requires funds and I will provide you with just that. All I want is to create an unbreakable bond with your house."

A smile broke out from Daemon’s lips. The smile felt too viscerally familiar. Like the kind he smiled when he was hovering over his Wolf Chess Table. What game were they playing right now? And who was the opponent piece?

"I share a bond with Zina WolfKnight. Is she not considered one of you if I am to complete that bond through marriage?" Daemon asked as if he were truly thinking it over.

If they had not yet had their last conversation over trust, Zina would have truly thought the man to be shameless enough to take another blatantly. Not like she wanted to be his wife, but the point was that Zina was just discovering how much obsessed she was with Daemon’s mono expressions.

How much she had studied him until there was nothing more left to study.

And it was her study of him that made her confident enough in the knowledge that Daemon was yet again playing the Long Game. And with the WolfKnights nonetheless. So the visceral jealousy and hurt she would have otherwise felt at the thought of him taking another woman in marriage was sadly, was nowhere to be found.

Zina decided to play a game of hers just as Modrich laughed and cruelly said. "While I appreciate Zina WolfKnight as an adopted child of our pack whom we raised and have turned into this powerful woman of your kingdom. She is, sadly, not a true WolfKnight and a monarch deserves nothing but the best blood at his side."

Marcus raised an eyebrow at that in mock shock. His eyes dared Zina to retort or something, but Zina had a game of hers to play.

She would play the jealous woman alright, but on her own terms. Daemon intended to play the long game, but Zina had to play the short one.

The far shorter one in fact.

Zina faced the woman they intended to marry off to Daemon who in her books was a girl bride as far as she was concerned. Cutting her a fierce glare, she announced in a lipid voice for all at the castle’s gate to hear.

"If the Alpha King takes her as a bride, then I promise you all that we all will be sure to find her severed head the next day."

The woman gasped under Zina’s blatant threat that she would take her life, backing away until she was hiding behind Modrich, probably shaking from fear like a winter leaf. Daemon narrowed his eyes at Zina, probably annoyed that she was marring his beautiful game.

Zina didn’t look repentant in the least. While she was resigned to the fact that she would have no choice but watch Daemon make decisions that he was supposed to make in line with the interests of the Arctic North, that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to act independently and make her own choices.

There was way too much blood debt to collect, and the Grand Healer’s voice that wouldn’t stop repeating in her head was still there like an incessant bug.

Indeed, she had been too lukewarm. What made her think she could ever forget? Whether it be the past humiliations she experienced in the WolfKnight Pack, or the recent humiliations she experienced in the NorthSteed Pack...they were all too fresh and raw in her mind.

Her attempt to forget had been a coward’s waste of time. And now that she was forced to remember everything in all their gory glory, only one thing remained and that was for her to take a pound of flesh against her perpetrators as they did from her.

Zina only waited enough for Daemon’s dark eyes to appraise her unrest. He was probably wondering why Zina was way too worked up, causing Zina to be glad that there was, after all, some kind of information that was out of his reach.

And one such information was all of her multiple shame combined together into one. Humiliations that happened behind closed doors.

Daemon finally made a declaration, his dark eyes still on her as if daring Zina to speak of her troubles. "Fionna belongs to the Red Sisters. Naturally, I shall deliver back the Red Hand to the Scarlet Mother."

That was all Zina needed to hear before she stormed away from the gathering and Daemon’s prying eyes that seemed to know every single thing behind her actions. Too bad, Zina never intended to let him know of any of the devious plans forming behind her eyes, or the reasons for them.

She wasn’t that woman who needed the help of any man to take her revenge. No, she was the woman called Zina who bore a surname that she despised, and she would take all her vengeance for herself.

Honestly, she had hoped it would never get to the point where she would act alone and for herself. But unfortunately, circumstances had bent her will to points she never expected it to.

"Where is Red Hand Fionna?" Zina asked Seraph as they made their way back to the castle.

"The West Heralder conveys that she is at the torture basement." The maidservant answered without bothering to inquire as to why Zina was looking for the very woman that Daemon’s words had all but condemned.

Without another word, they were climbing down the long swirls of staircases that led to the underground basement in the castle. It took some time wading through the multiple cells, but Zina finally found a flash of red hovering over a slumped body.

Fionna sensed her presence, turning to her from the poor soul she was dealing with.

"Zina?" She said, eyes not betraying any surprise on her part.

Zina wondered if the woman knew that in an attempt to escape her horrid fate in the hands of the Red Sisters, she had once again turned into a pawn in what might turn out to be a twisted game. Daemon would probably have her head for informing Fionna of her impending fate, but Zina couldn’t care less.

Fionna stared at her, the artificial claw attached to her fingers dripping with blood.

Zina got closer to her until the smell of blood permeated through her senses. In a trembling voice, she informed Fionna

"You wouldn’t believe I just saw Igar now." She sneered at the other woman, and the artificial metal claw Fionna clutched in her hands dropped from her fingers as she stared back at Zina with equal parts of rage, and a devilish glee that tugged as a dark smile against her lips.

"You saw Igar?"

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