The bell started before the sun had fully risen. It rang loud and steady across Lycanthria, cutting through the early morning quiet. It was not a call to gather or to warn of external threats. Everyone in the kingdom knew the sound. The Bell of Treason is housed in the central tower of the kingdom. They had not rung in over a decade.

At the wee hours of the day, Galen had gone to see Aveloria. He had informed her of the attack on the dungeon during the night. Assassins had breached their defenses and attempted to reach Eirene’s cell. The attempt had failed. Several had been killed, and a few captured.

The captured men had been taken to the Hollow of Veritas. And they did not hold out for long. Under questioning, they confessed. Elder Varon had sent them. They are not hired, men. Not mercenaries. They were his men. They were called The Black Mambas, men who had been taken as boys, stripped of their birth names and trained for a single purpose. To kill on the orders of their Lord, Varon.

Aveloria had not delayed. She had gone straight to the dungeon to agree to make a deal with Eirene. She had given a location inside her room. Under her bed. A section of the wooden floor that could be removed. Beneath it, she claimed, were documents that would expose everything.

Aveloria had been surprised because, after Eirene’s arrest, both her room and Rowena’s had been searched thoroughly. Nothing had been found at the time.

The moment the documents were recovered and confirmed, the King gave the order. He had signed the arrest warrants and handed them to Commander Tharkun of the King’s Justice. He had mobilized about two hundred soldiers, dividing them into squads with specific targets.

The soldiers moved through the city in a coordinated way. They wore their full armor, breastplates, and helms, and the Lycanthria’s Royal crest.

People stepped out of their homes in confusion at first. Some stood at their doors, staring with their mouths wide open. Others whispered to neighbors, trying to understand what had happened overnight. Some retreated inside and bolted their doors. The uncertainty did not last long.

They spread across districts without delay, moving from one noble estate to another. The order was clear: ARREST THE TRAITORS.

Elder Hiram’s house was located at Prosperity Row, a place lined with homes of the kingdom’s most influential families. Fifteen soldiers surround the building. Some stood at the front entrance. Some went to the rear. Some remained in the street to prevent anyone from leaving.

The front door was locked. The captain of this troop, a young man named Ulrikai, banged on the door. A servant opened the door, a young man in a faded tunic whose face went white when he saw the soldiers.

"Where is Lord Hiram?" Ulrikai asked.

The servant tried to speak but could not form words. He pointed inside the house, towards a pathway leading to the study. Ulrikai went in with three men while the other remained outside. They moved through the house, passing several rooms, until they got to the study. Ulrikai tried to open the door, but it was locked.

He stepped back and kicked the door near the handle; the wood splintered, and the door swung open.

Elder Hiram was seated at his desk. He wore a silk robe over his nighty clothes. In front of him on the desk was a small, empty glass vial and a silver cup. His face was already pale, and his lips blue. His hands were trembling as he tried to pick up a quill.

Ulrikai crossed the room in three strides and knocked the quill from his hand. He grabbed Hiram by the collar of his robe.

"What did you drink?" Ulrikai demanded.

Elder Hiram’s eyes were unfocused. His breath came in short, shallow gasps. He tried to speak, but only a wheeze came out. His body went rigid, then slumped. Ulrikai let go, and the older man slid from the chair onto the floor. He was dead.

Ulrikai stood over him for a moment, then he turned to the soldiers behind him. "Bring in some more men. Let’s search the whole place."

Two streets away, a squad of thirty soldiers approached Elder Toben’s estate. The gates were forced open. Servants began to run. Soldiers spread across the courtyard, blocking every exit. The captain in charge was Vornak.

"Gather everyone in the courtyard!" Vornak ordered. "Where is your master?" He asked one of the captured servants.

Most of the servants who had been gathered in the courtyard pointed towards the house. Vornak signaled to a few soldiers to come with him.

"Execute anyone who tries to make an escape!" Vornak snarled.

Inside the house, Scylles was in his room. He wasn’t alone. A young maid stood near the bed, clearly uncomfortable, her hands twisting together as Scylles stepped out of the bathhouse unclad. He had ordered her earlier to wait for him.

Scylles closed the gap between them, and his fingers caressed the maid’s lips. She trembled in fear. He smirked at her reaction.

"You’re too tense. Relax. I won’t hurt you." He tore at her top. "If you satisfy me, I could ask my father to grant you freedom to be with your people again, and I will give you enough coins to fend for yourself." He turned her until her hands hit the bed while he raised her skirt.

The maid whimpered in fear, tears welling in her eyes. She couldn’t dare to resist him cause she knew the consequences.

"Is this your first time?" He asked.

"Yes...my...lord." She stuttered.

"That’s better. I will toss you more coins." He stroked his cock until it leaked precum and then positioned it at her entrance. He pushed his cock in with brutal force, his hands gripping her hips.

Her pussy was tight. He adjusted her position. He pushed her further into the bed, forcing her back to arch as he thrusted in again. The stretch was agonizing.

The maid choked on her cry as she pleaded with him. But he kept thrusting. Too much, too fast until her core took in every inch of his cock. Her walls fluttered around the intrusion.

"Beg me again, and I will slit your throats afterwards. You were built for this! My father paid you for this! And you should be glad I am your first...boast of it to your fellow low life. So take it all, every fucking inch!" Scylles snarled, his fingers pulling at her skin, forcing her into an uncomfortable position that made her suffocate in the sheet.

The door burst open. Soldiers entered without warning.

Scylles turned sharply. "What is the meaning of this?!" He demanded. He stopped the thrusting movement and pulled out of the maid. He pushed her off, and she tried to cover herself.

Vornak took note of what must have happened, and then his expression turned angry. "Seize him!" He ordered.

Two soldiers stepped forward.

"Stop right there! You low life! Who are you to give orders in my home?!" Scylles snapped.

Vornak raised the king’s warrant in the air. "You are under arrest for treason against the crown."

Scylles let out a short laugh. "You’re serious? Treason! I have done nothing!"

"Seize him!" Vornak barked out.

Scylles’ eyes shifted briefly toward the sword mounted on the nearest wall.

The soldiers noticed.

"Do not reach for it," Vornak warned.

"To hell with you, dogs!" Scylles spat.