Chapter 11 The Wolf King’s Shadow

The mountain air grew thinner and colder as they crossed the invisible border into the Blackwood Ancestral Lands. Here, the snow wasn't just white; it was a pristine, untouched sheet that seemed to hum with an ancient, restless magic. The pines stood like silent sentinels, their branches heavy with frost, as if bowing to the man who sat in the passenger seat of the SUV.

Caleb’s presence had shifted again. Since the slaughter on the mountain road, the "human" mask he had been wearing was cracked. He didn't look like a man anymore; he looked like a god of war returning to his temple. His golden eyes never left the treeline, his nostrils flaring as he caught scents that Scarlett’s human senses could never perceive.

"They are waiting," Caleb said, his voice dropping into a low, predatory rumble.

Suddenly, the road ahead was blocked by four massive, black-furred wolves. They didn't growl; they simply stood there, their eyes glowing with a fierce intelligence. Scarlett slammed on the brakes, her hand instinctively reaching for her jade brush.

"Don't," Caleb commanded, his hand resting on her shoulder. "They are my kin."

He stepped out of the car, and for a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. The four wolves shifted simultaneously, their bodies elongating and snapping into human forms. They were tall, scarred warriors dressed in heavy furs, their expressions a mixture of shock, awe, and deep-seated suspicion.

"My King?" the leader, a man with a jagged scar across his throat named Fenris, whispered. He dropped to one knee, his head bowed in a sign of absolute submission. The others followed suit, their voices a synchronized chorus of "My King."

Caleb stood before them, his posture regal and cold. "Rise. The Blackwood line does not kneel to ghosts."

As the warriors stood, their eyes inevitably drifted to the SUV—and to Scarlett, who was watching from behind the glass. The air immediately soured. Fenris’s lip curled in a silent snarl as he caught the scent of the "Mark" on Caleb’s neck.

"My King," Fenris said, his voice tight with suppressed fury. "You have returned. But... you bring a human with you. A daughter of the Thorne family. And she has... she has dared to mark you?"

The other warriors began to growl, the sound vibrating through the frozen air. To the Northern Lycans, the Thorne family was the architect of their King’s downfall. To see their Alpha returned with the mark of a Thorne woman was the ultimate insult.

"She is a parasite," another warrior spat, stepping toward the car. "A witch who has used her charms to enslave our Lord while he was weakened. Move aside, My King, so we may cleanse this stain from our land."

Scarlett felt a cold shiver of dread. She was surrounded by the most lethal killers in the North, and to them, she was the enemy.

Caleb didn't move. He didn't even raise his voice. But the sudden, violent surge of his aura was enough to send the warriors stumbling back. The snow around his feet melted instantly, and the shadow of the Silver Wolf behind him roared with a silent, soul-crushing intensity.

"You speak of cleansing?" Caleb’s voice was like ice grinding against stone. "You speak of my mate as if she is a choice you get to question?"

He walked toward Fenris, stopping only when he was inches from the warrior’s face. Caleb was shorter than the massive wolf, but his presence made him seem ten feet tall. "She did not 'enslave' me. She saved my soul when you were too busy hiding in your caves. She marked me because I commanded it. She is the only reason your King still has a heart that beats."

Fenris’s eyes widened in terror. He had never seen Caleb this protective, this... obsessed. "But My Lord, she is a Thorne—"

"She is mine," Caleb growled, the word vibrating with a possessive power that made Scarlett’s own heart skip a beat. "If any of you so much as breathes in her direction without my permission, I will feed your souls to the mountain winds. Do I make myself clear?"

The silence that followed was absolute. The warriors dropped their heads, their tails tucked in a gesture of profound submission. "We understand, My King."

Caleb turned back to the SUV and opened the door. He reached out his hand, his expression softening only for her. "Come, Scarlett. It is time for you to see the throne you have helped me reclaim."

As Scarlett took his hand and stepped out into the freezing air, she felt the weight of a thousand years of history pressing down on her. She wasn't just a transmigrator anymore; she was the "Wolf King's Human Mate," a title that carried as much danger as it did power.

She looked at Caleb, his golden eyes filled with a terrifying, absolute devotion, and she realized the ninety-day clock was no longer a countdown to her death. It was a countdown to a war that would decide the fate of the entire North—and she was the only prize the King was willing to fight for.