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Chapter 131: A seat at the stone

作者: Vera Cassian
last update 公開日: 2026-11-06 17:49:13

Highmere had no walls. Sloane had expected walls.

It was a ring of thirty grey stones on a bare hilltop, each taller than a man and leaning slightly inward, as if listening. A table of black slate stood in the center, older than any pack that had ever used it. The wind crossed the moor with nothing to stop it, carrying heather and the smell of wolves who had decided not to smell afraid.

Nobody wore a blade. Marlowe’s eleven stood on the east side in plain wool with their hands empty, and Sloane
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  • CURSED TO THE TRIPLET ALPHAS    Chapter 136: The letter in the coat

    The fire on the moor was built with more care than a signal needed. The wood was stacked in a tight square and fed evenly, the way a man does when he has had a long night to think about what he will say.Aldric Thorne did not turn when they came up the slope. Griffin kept his hands empty and in plain sight. Cassian walked half a step behind with the ledger under his arm, and Sloane took the other side. Dax and Silas had been told to wait at the stones. Griffin had asked it as a request, and Dax, to everyone’s surprise, had agreed.“Marlowe,” Thorne said. “You came without your blades.”“The stone asked it.”“The stone asks a great many things.” He looked at the fire. “Sit. I am too old to look up at people.”They sat. For a moment nobody spoke.“You know something,” Griffin said.“I know a rider in a grey cloak sat on that ridge until midnight, then came down to my fire and did not stop. He left this on my pack and was gone before I stood.” Thorne drew a folded sheet from inside his c

  • CURSED TO THE TRIPLET ALPHAS    Chapter 135: Set down

    Griffin did not go to his tent. He walked to the edge of the stone ring, where the ground fell away into black moor, and stood with his hands hanging empty at his sides. Without a blade on him, he did not seem to know where to put them.Sloane gave him a quarter of an hour. Then she took a blanket from the fire and followed.“I thought you were asleep,” he said, without turning.“I thought you were Dax. He is the only one who sulks this quietly.”That earned her half a breath of a laugh. She came up beside him and put the blanket around both their shoulders, and he let her.“For twenty-two years he wrote I had no choice,” Griffin said. “I hated him for it, in the ledger. Then I started to understand him. And tonight Cassian tells me someone built that choice for him, one careful piece at a time.” His jaw worked. “I do not know whether to grieve him or forgive him or burn the book. I do not know what I am supposed to feel.”“Maybe all of it.”“That is not an answer.”“It is the only ho

  • CURSED TO THE TRIPLET ALPHAS    Chapter 134: The meadows

    The Marlowe camp sat on the lee side of the hill, eleven tents around one fire, and nobody had gone to bed.Silas came down the path a little after midnight with Edric Hale a step behind him, like a man who had been escorted rather than invited. Hale stopped at the edge of the firelight and would not come closer until Griffin nodded. Then he sat on a log, set his folio on his knee, and told it all again without being asked twice. A rider with Marlowe’s seal and no banner. A late night in Harrow’s hall. One request made in place of payment.“He asked her to keep talking about the eastern valley,” Hale finished. “The old river meadows below your wall.”“Those are grazing land,” Dax said. “Wet in spring, useless in winter. We lease them for sheep.”“Maren said the same. She said whoever sent that rider had been counting them for years.”Sloane was watching Cassian, who sat a little apart with his knees drawn up and his eyes on nothing. She saw the exact moment something in him went still

  • CURSED TO THE TRIPLET ALPHAS    Chapter 133: Hearth-Right

    Silas did not stand. He leaned across the table and laid two fingers on the sheet, not to take it, only to stop it moving.“Halla,” he said. “Before you sign, hear something I should have said to all of you long ago. Then sign, if you wish. I will not stop you.”Her hand stayed on the pen. She did not look up.“Maren is right about the council. I hold a voice and no more. Marlowe’s elders outvote ours, and when we disagree, they often win. I agreed to those terms, and I will not pretend they cost me nothing.” He heard Corwin’s sharp breath beside him and went on anyway. “I promised I would stop hiding behind comfortable silence. This is what that looks like. It is not comfortable.”Aksel lifted his head. “Then she has a point.”“She has half a point, which is the most dangerous kind.” Silas kept his voice level. “Half of what she said is true. The other half is that a hearth standing alone cannot buy medicine from a pack that has already decided what its price is. She has made a very

  • CURSED TO THE TRIPLET ALPHAS    Chapter 132: Harrow’s fire

    Harrow had made its camp in a hollow below the stones, out of the wind, and Silas understood within a minute why Maren Voss had chosen it. The fire was big enough to warm eleven wolves and small enough that nobody could sit beyond arm’s reach of her.She had laid the table herself. Bread, smoked trout, a rough red wine she poured with her own hands. Nobody was armed, and nobody was hurried. Edric Hale sat at the far edge of the light with his folio shut on his knee, and Silas noticed he had not touched his plate.“I will say it first, so it does not sit between us all night,” Maren said, settling opposite him. “I have no quarrel with Ravenwood. I have only memory.”Corwin, on Silas’s left, stiffened. Silas laid a hand briefly on the table to quiet him.“Sixty years ago, your grandfather’s wolves burned my mother’s grain stores,” Maren went on, mild as milk. “She lost four children that winter. I know, because I was the fifth. I read your family’s old journal last month, or what was re

  • CURSED TO THE TRIPLET ALPHAS     Chapter 131: A seat at the stone

    Highmere had no walls. Sloane had expected walls.It was a ring of thirty grey stones on a bare hilltop, each taller than a man and leaning slightly inward, as if listening. A table of black slate stood in the center, older than any pack that had ever used it. The wind crossed the moor with nothing to stop it, carrying heather and the smell of wolves who had decided not to smell afraid.Nobody wore a blade. Marlowe’s eleven stood on the east side in plain wool with their hands empty, and Sloane watched Dax try to find somewhere to put his arms and give up. Ravenwood’s eleven stood beside them, Silas among them in a borrowed coat. Ines was not there. She had asked Elias to keep her in her quarters until Griffin decided what she was, and Griffin had not decided yet.Cassian had spent five nights on the door logs and found nothing. He had told her this at dawn, flatly. It frightened her more than a name would have.The Warden of Highmere was a stooped woman named Hesper, who held the cir

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