Chapter Seven

Dinner carried on in a steady, composed rhythm, the kind that did not require attention to hold itself together. The table had been set with care, though nothing about it felt excessive or designed to impress. Everything had its place, and everything remained there, untouched unless it needed to be moved. Servants passed through quietly, refilling glasses, replacing dishes, never interrupting the flow of conversation, only supporting it.

The King spoke first, as expected, his tone even as he addressed them. “I trust the journey here was manageable.”

Rowan inclined his head slightly. “It was.”

The King gave a small nod, accepting the answer without pressing further. “Travel tends to reveal more about a place than remaining within it.”

“It depends on what you’re looking for,” Elias replied, his tone easy enough to fit into the setting without disrupting it.

“And what were you looking for?” the Queen asked, her attention settling on him.

Elias glanced briefly toward Fenrir before answering. “A direct route.”

“That is not always the most informative one,” she said.

“No,” Elias agreed, “but it gets you where you need to be.”

The exchange ended there, naturally, without anyone needing to carry it further. The conversation shifted without effort, moving into neutral ground, land, distance, and the differences in terrain between their territories. Rowan spoke where it required clarity, answering in a way that gave just enough without offering more than necessary. Elias filled in the spaces between, keeping the tone from becoming too rigid.

Valeria joined where she could.

“You’ve built something well-maintained here,” she said at one point, her gaze moving briefly around the room before returning to the Queen. “It’s not easy to keep something like this running without cracks showing.”

“It becomes easier when it is consistent,” the Queen replied.

Valeria smiled slightly. “Consistency usually comes from strong leadership.”

“It comes from structure,” Aurelia said, her voice calm as she set her glass down. “Leadership only maintains it.”

Valeria’s expression didn’t change, though she did not continue that line of conversation. Instead, she shifted slightly in her seat, adjusting her posture as she looked toward Aurelia more directly.

“And you prefer to stay within that structure?” she asked. “Rather than expand beyond it?”

Aurelia met her gaze without hesitation. “There is no need to expand if what you have already serves its purpose.”

“That depends on what you consider enough.”

“It depends on whether you understand what you already have.”

There was nothing sharp in her tone, nothing that could be called confrontational, but the conversation ended there regardless. Valeria leaned back slightly, lifting her glass as if the exchange had held no weight, though the set of her shoulders suggested otherwise.

Fenrir had remained mostly silent throughout, though his attention had not wavered. He listened more than he spoke, taking in the rhythm of the table, the way each person carried themselves within it. The King did not need to control the conversation for it to stay where he wanted it. The Queen spoke when necessary and never beyond it. Aurelia said less than any of them, yet nothing she said was overlooked.

“You’ve been quiet,” Valeria said eventually, turning toward Fenrir.

He looked at her, his expression unchanged. “There hasn’t been much to respond to.”

Her lips curved faintly. “That’s one way to look at it.”

“It’s the only one that matters.”

Elias let out a small breath that might have been a laugh, quickly masked as he reached for his glass. Rowan did not react, though his attention shifted briefly toward Fenrir before returning to the table.

Valeria didn’t press him further. Instead, she turned her attention back to the others, though the conversation had already begun to move past her. The King redirected it again, speaking of seasonal changes and how they affected movement between territories, drawing Rowan into the discussion once more. The Queen followed naturally, adding where needed, keeping the tone even.

**

The sitting room was warmer. The fire had already been lit, its glow steady and contained within the stone hearth that sat centered along the far wall. Two couches had been arranged across from one another on either side of it, creating a space that invited conversation without demanding it. Low tables rested between them, set for tea that had yet to be poured.

Fenrir and Valeria took one side.

Rowan and Elias remained standing just behind them, their presence less relaxed, more watchful.

The King and Queen settled opposite, composed as ever.

Aurelia remained standing for only a moment longer before taking her place, though something in her posture suggested she had not yet fully settled into it.

The King was the one to begin. “It was mentioned there was something that needed to be shown to us.”

Rowan answered without delay. “There is.”

He did not look at Fenrir when he spoke, but the shift in his stance was enough to suggest where the conversation would lead. “A woman entered our court, being accused, having yielded forbidden magic in our area. She wanted to be judged in front of an audience, in front of all of us.”

The Queen’s attention settled more fully on him. “She wanted to be on trial?”

“It was her only way of getting close to the Alpha King, and Prince Fenrir,” Rowan said. “She had only stepped closer; no one could stop her.”

“What did she say?” Aurelia asked, her tone even, though there was a clarity to it now that had not been present at dinner.

“You believe anything outside your bloodline is beneath you,” Rowan replied.

Elias shifted slightly where he stood, his arms folding loosely across his chest. “She wasn’t vague about it either. She spoke plainly enough just not in a way that gave us anything useful to act on.”

“And then?” the King asked.

Elias picked up, “This sigil was burned into his chest.”

The word did not linger, but it did not need to. It was understood well enough without explanation.

Aurelia’s gaze shifted then, settling on Fenrir with a focus that did not waver. “And what did she say when she did it?”

Fenrir answered without looking away. “That my bloodline ends with me.”

There was no weight placed on the words when he said them, no attempt to make them anything more than what they were, but that did not lessen their meaning. The King regarded him for a moment, as if measuring the statement for himself, while the Queen remained still, her attention unmoving.

“And you came here because you believe we would understand what it all means,” Aurelia said.

Rowan inclined his head. “We came because I know that Valmere keeps records others have chosen to forget.”

“That is not untrue,” the Queen said.

Aurelia did not respond immediately. Her attention remained on Fenrir, steady in a way that suggested she was waiting for something more than what had already been offered. Rowan noticed it, and though he said nothing, he shifted just enough that Fenrir would catch it.

Fenrir exhaled once, low and controlled, before reaching for the edge of his shirt. The movement was deliberate, without urgency, as he pulled the fabric aside just enough to reveal the mark beneath. The crescent curved sharply against his skin, the unfamiliar script lining its outer edge, the three small points placed along the inner curve with too much precision to be meaningless.

The firelight caught against it, making it easier to see, easier to understand why it had brought them here at all.

Aurelia’s posture changed for only a moment, a brief tightening through her shoulders that passed almost as quickly as it appeared, but it was enough. The King saw it. The Queen saw it. Neither of them spoke on it, but the look they shared made it clear it had not gone unnoticed.

Aurelia rose from her seat. “Excuse me for a moment,” she said, her voice steady, offering nothing more as she stepped away and left the room.

The door closed quietly behind her, and for a brief stretch of time, no one moved. Fenrir let the fabric fall back into place, his attention shifting back toward Rowan and Elias, both of whom held the same look, measured, concerned, though neither of them voiced it.

Valeria leaned back slightly, her patience already wearing thin. “So, what the hell is it?”

“Princess Aurelia should explain,” the Queen stated, a glimmer of disgust for Valeria's use of language.

Valeria did not look satisfied with that answer, though she did not press further, her attention drifting instead as the quiet settled back into the room, broken only by the fire and the faint movement beyond the door.

When Aurelia returned, she carried a book that looked as though it had been handled far more than it had been preserved. The edges of its pages were uneven, worn down by time and use, the spine softened in a way that suggested it had been opened often and without care for its condition.

She crossed the room and placed it into Fenrir’s hands before stepping back toward the fire, positioning herself there without sitting again.

“This is what your sigil means.”

Fenrir looked down at the pages, his brow tightening almost immediately as he tried to make sense of what was written there. The symbols did not follow anything familiar, the language uneven, layered in a way that resisted understanding.

“I don’t understand any of this,” he said.

Rowan reached forward and took the book from him, his attention narrowing as he worked through it, Elias leaning in over his shoulder to follow along.

“Live…” Rowan began, slower now, careful as he pieced the words together. “By the…. the life you… despise.”

The sentence settled into the room without force, but it did not need it.

Valeria was the first to respond. “What does that even mean?”

Aurelia did not answer her immediately. Instead, she looked at Fenrir, her gaze steady as she asked, “What do you despise, Prince Fenrir?”

Everyone turned.

Rowan. Elias. Valeria.

They all knew.

Fenrir didn’t look at her at first. His jaw tightened slightly before he answered.

“Humans.”

Aurelia held his gaze for a moment longer before shifting her attention briefly to Rowan. “It was your decision to come here?”

“Yes, Your Highness,” Rowan said. “We believed this was the only place that might have answers.”

The Queen spoke then, her tone calm. “Aurelia has spent years preserving knowledge most have lost. If anyone would recognize something like this, it would be her.”

“They are not here for me, Mother,” Aurelia said, her gaze returning to Fenrir. “They are here for answers. Unfortunately, they will not be ones you find acceptable.”

Fenrir lifted his gaze to meet hers. “Then say them.”

Aurelia exhaled quietly before answering. “There is no simple way to break your curse. It is not something that can be removed.”

Fenrir’s expression hardened. “Then what is it?”

“It is a binding,” she said. “Your life is tied to mine.”

The words settled plainly between them.

“To a human,” she added, “you despise.”

Fenrir stood then, the movement sharp, controlled but no less clear. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

Aurelia did not react to his tone. “Mother.”

The Queen rose without question and stepped toward her as Aurelia turned, drawing her hair forward over her right shoulder. The fabric of her dress shifted as the Queen lowered it carefully, revealing the mark beneath.

A crescent. The three dots.

Mirrored.

Placed opposite his.

Fenrir stepped closer without thinking, Rowan following just behind him, Elias leaning forward enough to see clearly.

“It is not a coincidence,” Aurelia said.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Fenrir replied, his voice raised now.

The Queen adjusted the fabric back into place, and Aurelia turned to face him again, meeting his gaze without hesitation.

“It means more than you are willing to accept,” she said. “It means that this is no longer only about you.”

And the way she held his gaze then, steady and unmoving, would not have been mistaken in the Iron Citadel for anything less than a challenge.