Page 20 of Taken By the Leviathan King

We don’t wait long.

Within an hour, our scouts report Rynor’s forces mobilizing toward the eastern chamber—exactly where our false information indicated we’d be reinforcing defenses.

“The trap is sprung,” Krak’zol growls, satisfaction evident in his voice. “Vara, take your warriors and intercept Rynor’s forces. Keep them occupied, but do not engage directly. I want them distracted, not defeated.”

Vara pounds her chest in acknowledgment and departs with a contingent of warriors.

“And now for our traitor,” I say quietly.

We find Zorath in his private chambers, frantically gathering what appears to be travel provisions. He freezes when we enter, his expression cycling rapidly through shock, fear, and finally resignation.

“My king,” he says softly, lowering his head. “I expected you sooner.”

“Did you?” Krak’zol’s voice is deadly calm. “Just as Rynor expected our forces in the eastern chamber?”

Zorath flinches but doesn’t deny it. “You don’t understand—”

“Then explain,” I interject, stepping forward. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you betrayed your king, your people, and everything you’ve sworn to protect.”

His eyes flick to mine, surprise evident at my intervention. “It’s not that simple, human.”

“It never is,” I agree, crossing my arms. “So make it simple.”

Before he can respond, the door opens again, and Nira enters. She stops short at the sight of us, her hand flying to her mouth. “No,” she whispers. “Zorath, no.”

The look that passes between them confirms everything. It’s not just guilt I see in Zorath’s eyes—it’s anguish, love, and desperation.

“He has her sister,” Zorath says finally, his voice breaking. “Rynor captured Nira’s sister months ago. He threatened to—” He can’t finish.

Nira moves to his side, her hand finding his. “We were bonded in secret,” she explains, her voice trembling. “Against tradition, against protocol. Zorath was your advisor, and I was just a healer. Such a union would never have been sanctioned.”

“So Rynor discovered your secret and used it against you,” Krak’zol concludes, his expression unreadable.

Zorath nods miserably. “He promised to release her sister if I provided information. Just small things at first—guard rotations, security protocols. Then larger things. Each time, he swore it would be the last.”

“But it never is with blackmailers,” I murmur, familiar with the pattern from countless hostage situations back on Earth.

“I knew what I was doing was unforgivable,” Zorath continues, his shoulders slumping. “But I couldn’t—we couldn’t—let Bethra die. She’s all Nira has left of her family.”

The chamber falls silent. I watch Krak’zol, curious how he’ll respond. In his position, many human commanders would execute the traitor on the spot, regardless of motivation. The cold calculus of leadership often demands such harsh justice.

But there’s more at play here than simple betrayal. I can see it in the way Krak’zol’s gaze shifts between Zorath and Nira, in the subtle softening around his eyes. He understands what it means to be driven by a bond, to be willing to sacrifice everything for the one who holds your heart. He’s feeling it now, with me.

“Where is Bethra being held?” I ask, breaking the tense silence.

Zorath looks up, confusion evident. “In Rynor’s fortress, beneath the Sundered Reef. But why—”

“Because we’re going to get her back,” I state simply, as if it’s already decided. I turn to Krak’zol. “Rynor’s forces are currently engaged with Vara’s warriors, which means his fortress is likely undermanned. If we move quickly, we could extract Bethra and turn this situation to our advantage.”

Krak’zol studies me, his silver eyes gleaming with something that looks suspiciously like admiration. “And what advantage would that be, Imogen?”

I allow myself a small smile. “Zorath has been feeding Rynor information for months. Rynor trusts that information implicitly. If we control what Zorath tells him...”

“We control Rynor’s next move,” Krak’zol finishes, a predatory grin spreading across his face. “Clever, little warrior. Very clever.”

Zorath looks between us, disbelief etched on his features. “You would... use me as a double agent? Rather than execute me for treason?”

“Death is easy,” I shrug. “Making amends is harder. This way, you get a chance to right your wrongs and save Nira’s sister. Seems like a better outcome for everyone.”

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