Marrying a Warhound (Cassian) novel Chapter 180

**TITLE: Brute 180**

**Chapter 180**

**Matron Yara’s POV**

“You traitor!” Veris’s voice rang out, sharp and piercing, cutting through the cacophony of clashing metal that surrounded them like a thunderstorm.

A sly smirk crept across Yara’s lips, a glint of amusement dancing in her eyes.

“Traitor?” she echoed, her head tilting slightly as if Veris had merely criticized her culinary skills rather than hurling accusations of treason. “Veris… after all these years, how could you possibly label me as such?”

Before Veris could formulate a response, one of Yara’s soldiers surged forward from the shadows. Veris barely had time to raise her arm in defense before two more men seized her from behind, their grip vice-like as they twisted her arms painfully back, forcing her down onto her knees.

“Let me go!” Veris cried out, her voice laced with defiance. “I am a council member! Unhand me at once!”

One of the soldiers yanked her hair back, a brutal maneuver that left Veris gasping in surprise. She hissed, her instincts kicking in as she kicked out in a futile attempt to break free, but they held her down with ease.

The courtyard around them erupted into chaos once more. Northern guards clashed violently with Yara’s men, the sounds of swords ringing and shields colliding filling the air. A soldier was hurled against a stone pillar, another crumpled to the ground after a brutal blow to the throat. The fighting showed no signs of abating.

“How—” Veris struggled against her captors, her eyes blazing with fury. “How dare you, Yara! Call off your men this instant!”

In response, Yara stepped closer, halting just a few feet from her former ally. The smirk that adorned her face remained, unwavering.

“Oh, Veris,” she said, her tone almost dripping with mock sympathy. “You always believed your position held some weight.”

Veris snarled, her pride igniting her spirit even as the soldiers forced her head down again. “Release me! I command—”

Yara raised a single hand, and the soldier gripping Veris’s hair tightened his hold, cutting her off with a sharp jerk that elicited a gasp from her lips.

“You don’t command anything anymore,” Yara said, her voice calm and collected as she observed Veris’s futile struggles. “Not here…” Her thoughts drifted to more pressing matters. A wicked smile curled her lips as she turned her gaze toward the second floor of the mansion. “Go inside! Capture that woman for me!”

“Are you not afraid of the Lord anymore?” Sister Veris screeched, her voice cracking with desperation as the soldier forced her head down once more. “He will come for you! The council will come for you!”

Yara paused mid-stride, glancing back at her with a raised eyebrow, amusement flickering in her eyes.

“The council?” she echoed, the bemusement evident in her tone. “Veris… you speak as if they still have the power to act.”

Veris froze, confusion washing over her. “What… what do you mean?”

Yara crouched slightly, lowering herself to meet Veris’s narrowed gaze. “Did you truly believe I was as naïve as you?” she asked, her voice almost gentle, as if she were explaining a simple truth. “Waiting for the council to gather, to vote, to intervene? No. The other council members will not be coming to anyone’s rescue today.”

The color drained from Veris’s face, realization dawning on her. “You didn’t—”

“Oh, but I did,” Yara replied, her smile stretching wider, satisfaction radiating from her. “While you wasted precious time chasing after rumors and defending that girl, I was busy preparing something far more effective. I’ve had soldiers stationed in the council hall since dawn. By now, every member is either tied up… or unconscious.”

Veris shook her head violently, her hair pulling tighter in the soldier’s grip. “No—no, the guards—”

“Also detained,” Yara interjected, straightening up with a self-satisfied sigh. “And the infirmary? Subdued hours ago. It took less than fifteen minutes. They didn’t even know what hit them.”

The clash of swords intensified around them, the sounds of battle sharper and more desperate. Another Northern guard was thrown against the wall, but Yara paid him no mind.

Veris stared up at her, horror etched across her features. “You planned this… all of it.”

“Of course I did,” Yara said, gesturing toward the mansion as if unveiling a masterpiece. “Today is the perfect day. The Lord is away, his men scattered across the borders. And the people? They are too engrossed with their precious consort to notice the storm brewing right in front of them.”

Her focus sharpened as she turned back toward the second floor of the mansion.

“Bring her to me,” she commanded again, her voice carrying over the sounds of combat. “Alive. That woman is the key to everything.”

Panic surged through Veris, and she struggled harder against her captors. “Yara, listen to yourself! You think you can conquer the North on your own? You think you can—”

“Not alone,” Yara corrected smoothly, a smile creeping onto her lips that made Veris’s breath hitch in her throat. “With soldiers who understand what true leadership looks like.”

As she stepped back, her men surged forward toward the mansion doors, pushing through fallen bodies and shattered shields.

Without another word, he drew his blade, ready for combat.

Yet, her soldiers moved first, rushing him from both sides. Lucas didn’t retreat; he met them head-on, parrying one strike and twisting to deliver a brutal elbow to another man’s jaw. The soldier stumbled back, blood cascading from his mouth. Another attempted to come in low, but Lucas kicked him away and drove his sword into the shoulder of the next assailant.

He was swift and efficient, just as Yara had anticipated. Every movement Lucas made was calculated, purposeful.

Yara’s eyes narrowed. This was precisely why Cassian had left him here. “Subdue him!” she commanded sharply. “Do not kill him. He will be useful.”

The soldiers adjusted their attacks, aiming for his arms, his legs, anywhere that would bring him down without ending his life. Lucas held his ground, breathing heavily but refusing to yield. He blocked a strike aimed at his neck and slammed his shoulder into one soldier’s chest, sending him crashing into the wall.

Then, a shadow shifted beside Yara.

A man stepped forward, his hood pulled low over his face. He raised his hand, and Yara caught the glint of a stone resting against his palm. It began to glow, a muted but steady light that pulsed with energy.

Almost instantly, Lucas faltered.

His sword dipped for a fraction of a second, and his body went rigid, as if ensnared by an invisible force. His eyes widened in shock as his muscles locked in place.

He attempted to lift his arm. It shook but remained unresponsive.

One of Yara’s soldiers seized the opportunity, slamming Lucas back against the wall and wrenching the sword from his grip. Another soldier kicked his legs out from under him. Lucas dropped to one knee, jaw clenched tightly, fighting against the unseen force that held him captive.

The stone’s light pulsed again.

Yara watched him struggle, his breathing becoming labored. “Foolish,” she said, stepping closer, her voice dripping with disdain. “Did you truly believe I would come here unprepared?”

Lucas glared at her, attempting to push himself up, but the man with the stone tightened his grip, and Lucas froze once more, a shudder coursing through his body.

“Bind him,” Yara ordered, her voice firm and commanding. “And keep that stone on him. I want him conscious when I’m done with the consort.”