Into the Wolves’ Den

The Crimson Vultures’ hideout loomed before Kael like a predator in the shadows. Nestled deep within the industrial district of Grenwick, the building was an unassuming warehouse by day, but at night, it transformed into a hub for the city’s most dangerous mercenaries. The flicker of lanterns behind boarded-up windows hinted at the illicit activities within, and the muted hum of voices and laughter drifted out into the cold night air.

Kael crouched behind a stack of crates, his heart pounding in his chest. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to turn back, but he forced the fear down. This was his chance to uncover the truth about his family’s murder and the mysterious Baron who had ordered it. His life had been reduced to ashes, and this was the only way to start piecing it back together.

He glanced at Jax, who knelt beside him. The street thief had been instrumental in gathering intelligence on the mercenaries, and tonight, he was risking everything to help Kael infiltrate their den. Jax gave him a nod, his usual smirk replaced by a rare expression of seriousness.

“Remember,” Jax whispered, “you’re not here to fight. Get in, find out what you can, and get out. If things go south, don’t be a hero.”

Kael nodded, his jaw set with determination. “I’ll be careful.”

Jax pointed to a side entrance guarded by a single sentry. “That’s your way in. He’s been drinking all night—shouldn’t be too hard to slip past him. I’ll stay out here and keep watch.”

With a final nod, Kael moved silently toward the side door, his footsteps muffled by the dirt-packed ground. The guard leaned against the wall, his head nodding as he fought off sleep. Kael held his breath as he slid past, his small frame a shadow against the dim light. The door creaked slightly as he pushed it open, but the guard didn’t stir.

Inside, the warehouse was a labyrinth of crates and makeshift furniture. The air was thick with the scent of tobacco, alcohol, and unwashed bodies. Kael kept to the shadows, his movements slow and deliberate. He could hear the mercenaries gathered in the central area, their voices carrying over the clinking of tankards and the occasional burst of raucous laughter.

Sticking to the perimeter, Kael moved closer, his ears straining to pick up anything useful. He spotted a cluster of men seated around a large table, maps and documents spread out before them. Among them was a man Kael instantly recognized from the tavern—a gruff mercenary who had spoken about the “loose ends” left after the attack on Kael’s family.

Kael’s heart raced as he inched closer, careful to stay hidden. He crouched behind a stack of crates, just close enough to hear the conversation.

“The Baron’s not happy,” the gruff mercenary said, his tone low and serious. “He wanted this job tied up months ago. If that kid’s still out there, it’s going to bring heat down on all of us.”

“Relax,” another man replied, his voice dripping with arrogance. “We torched the place and killed everyone who mattered. The kid’s probably dead in a ditch somewhere.”

“Probably isn’t good enough,” the gruff man shot back. “The Baron’s been paying us too well for loose ends. If he finds out, we screwed this up…”

Kael’s fists clenched at the mention of the Baron. The mercenaries’ casual cruelty made his blood boil, but he forced himself to stay calm. He needed more—names, locations, anything that could bring him closer to his goal.

As the men continued to argue, Kael’s attention was drawn to the documents on the table. Among them was a letter stamped with an ornate seal—a hawk clutching a serpent in its talons. Kael’s breath caught. He’d seen that seal before, on a document his father had shown him years ago. It belonged to a noble family in the capital.

Before he could process the revelation, a hand clamped down on his shoulder. Kael spun around, his heart leaping into his throat. A mercenary had spotted him, his face twisted into a sneer.

“Well, what do we have here?” the man growled, yanking Kael to his feet.

Kael’s mind raced. He had seconds to act. Drawing on the lessons Zara had drilled into him, he twisted free and slammed his elbow into the man’s ribs. The mercenary grunted in pain, but his shout alerted the others.

“Intruder!”

Chaos erupted as Kael bolted, weaving through the maze of crates. Shouts and heavy footsteps pursued him, the mercenaries closing in fast. He reached the side door, flinging it open just as Jax appeared, his dagger drawn.

“Time to go!” Jax shouted, grabbing Kael’s arm.

Together, they sprinted into the night, their pursuers hot on their heels. They darted through the narrow alleys, their breath ragged and their hearts pounding. Finally, they dove into an abandoned building, pressing themselves against the wall as the mercenaries thundered past.

In the silence that followed, Kael clutched his knees, gasping for air. His mind swirled with what he had heard and seen—the Baron, the noble seal, the mercenaries’ fear of loose ends.

“You get what you needed?” Jax asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Kael nodded, his eyes blazing with determination. “More than I expected. This isn’t over, Jax. Not by a long shot.”

For the first time since his family’s murder, Kael felt like he was closing in on the truth. The wolves had shown their hand, and Kael was ready to strike back.

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