เข้าสู่ระบบAlexei
I am still vibrating with the urge to kill when the door shuts behind us.
The corridor outside the cells smelled like rot and old fear. Up here, outside Kieran’s chambers, it smells like smoke and clean linen and him. It should be enough to pull me out of it.
It isn’t. Not quite.
I can still feel Hrolf’s throat under my forearm. The give of gristle. The way the chain bit and creaked when I drove him into the wall. One more heartbeat, two at most, and it would have been done. Problem solved. Neck broken, lungs quiet, one less traitor breathing Silvercres
KieranBy midday, I’m ready to abdicate in favor of a reasonably competent tree.The morning starts badly and then decides that’s a theme.First, a messenger arrives from the eastern border with a report that is essentially “we saw tracks, maybe Redmaw, maybe a very organized herd of deer, please advise.” Then the kitchen runs low on salt because a wagon got stuck in a ravine. Then an elder co
AlexeiSomething in my chest cracks open. “Say that again.”He scowls. “Don’t get greedy.”“At least I’m honest about it,” I say.He sighs. “I trust you,” he repeats, like it pains him. “More than I’ve trusted anyone with anything. Happy?”“
AlexeiI wake up to Kieran pretending to still be asleep.He’s curled on his side, back to me, shoulders tense in a way they weren’t when he knocked out last night. His breathing is too measured. Every few inhales there’s a tiny hitch, like he’s waiting to see if I’ve noticed he’s awake.I stretch, slow and deliberate, one arm sliding over his waist, my hand splaying across his stomach. The skin is warm. He goes rigid for half a heartbeat, then forces himself to relax.
KieranI don’t remember the walk back to my rooms.I remember the hall. The sound of chains. The expression on Hrolf’s face when Marcus’s blade fell.I remember the weight of hundreds of eyes, all measuring. Deciding what kind of Alpha I am.After that, everything blurs.
AlexeiThe hall has never been this quiet during my time here.Kieran stands in the center of it. No throne. No raised dais. Just him on the flagstones, a few paces from the foot of the high table. Behind him is one empty chair, and behind that chair is me.My hands are loose at my sides. My stance says, relaxed. My wolf says, let me kill something
KieranThe morning of the trial dawns grey and sharp.No dramatic storm. No symbolic sunburst. Just flat, colorless light leaking over the courtyard stones, like the sky is holding its breath with the rest of us.Marcus meets me outside the stairwell to the cells.“Alpha,” he says. His voice is as neutral as it ever gets. That’s how I know he’s tense.“







