Marrying a Warhound (Cassian) novel Chapter 112

MATRON YARA’S POV

:

43

55 vouchers

“What do you think, Maningo?” Yara asked, her smile lingering as the chamber door closed. Sister Veris and the others were gone. Only she and Maningo remained.

“Permission to speak freely, Matron,” he said.

“Go on.”

“They looked like they weren’t convinced,” Maningo replied. “If anything, they seemed angry.”

Yara’s smile widened at that. “It doesn’t matter if they believe me now. Convincing them outright was never the point.” She folded her hands on the table. “The meeting was to plant the seed, that I know Atasha Black’s true background. Once the northern outpost falls, they won’t have the luxury of doubt. They’ll believe whatever I tell them.” This was just the start of her plans.

She leaned back, the corners of her mouth curling again. “And when that time comes, all of this will be mine to shape.”

“Is everything in order?” she asked after a few seconds of silence.

“Yes, Matron. The beasts will sweep across the northern outpost tonight.”

“Good!” Matron Yara got up. “We will proceed to the outpost once the sun is up. Prepare everything.” She would be there to witness this grand event.

“Yes, Matron.”

Matron Yara finally rose from her seat, her robes brushing against the stone floor as she walked out of the chamber. The muffled tolling of the bell carried through the halls, but she ignored it. Fighting was for others, not for her. Strategy, words, and timing, that was her battlefield.

She made her way through the winding corridors until she reached her private study. The door shut behind her with a firm click, and she locked it, sealing herself away from the chaos outside. The space was quiet, lined with shelves of books and scrolls, the scent of parchment and candle wax lingering in the air.

Her steps carried her straight to the bar along the far wall. She poured herself a generous glass of wine, the dark liquid catching the low lamplight. She swirled it once before taking a slow sip, letting the warmth slide down her throat. A long exhale followed, as if the world beyond the stone walls was a distant problem.

Then, without warning, a draft swept through the room. The flames in the sconces wavered, and the pages of an open book on her desk rustled as if caught in a sudden gust. Yara’s eyes narrowed. The door was still shut, locked, yet the wind moved as if the night itself had slipped inside.

Her gaze shifted toward the corner of the room. A shadow lingered there, darker than it should have been, stretching unnaturally against the wall.

But this didn’t startle her. Instead, her lips curved into a slow smile. She raised her glass slightly, as though in greeting.

20:32 Wed, Sep 24

Chapter 112

“You are early,” she said, her voice calm, almost welcoming.

43

55 vouchers

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify