Chapter 13

FREYA

The wolf’s tooth felt heavier around my neck than ever before.

Not because of its weight, but because of what it now meant.

Elias sat beside me in the stone chamber, a bowl of untouched food between us. Neither of us had spoken in over an hour since reuniting. Words felt too fragile. Too dangerous.

I stared at my bruised knuckles. I had slammed them into the wall that morning… not in rage, but to feel something real. Something louder than regret.

“I’m not here to apologize,” I finally said.

Elias didn’t look up. “Good. I’m tired of empty apologies.”

“I’m here because I still believe in what we fought for. Even if I lost sight of it.”

He looked at me then. Slow. Guarded. Still sharp as ever.

“So you’ve really chosen her?” he said. “Rhea… after everything?”

“I haven’t chosen her,” I said. “I’ve chosen to stop Xavier.”

I stood, pacing. My bindings were gone, Rhea’s gesture of trust, or bait. I didn’t know which.

“I don’t know who’s still loyal,” I muttered. “Or who Xavier’s already turned.”

Elias’s voice was low. “You mean like me?”

I turned sharply.

He didn’t flinch. “I followed Beacon. I believed in what we were building. But Xavier… Xavier turned it into something else.”

A long silence passed between us.

“If he opens that gate…” I said, quieter now.

Elias nodded. “Then the prophecy comes to pass.”

I met his eyes. “Do you believe it?”

“I believe in people like Xavier,” he said. “And I believe in the damage they do when no one stops them.”

A small smile touched my mouth. “You always were the cynic.”

“You always were the dreamer.”

“Then let’s rewrite the ending.”

Three days later, under a blood-orange sky, we crossed into the scorched southern wilds.

***********

RHEA POV

The sea was restless tonight.

I stood at the watchtower’s edge, cloak snapping like a war banner. Below, waves crashed against the rocks with the fury of old gods. The salt stung my lips. The cold bit deep. But I didn’t move.

Something was coming.

“Alpha,” Damon said beside me, voice clipped, “the ship nears the southern dock.”

I didn’t look at him. “Is the council gathered?”

“All but Magnus.”

Of course. Magnus never trusted outsiders, especially foreign Alphas with too-white smiles and too-clean hands. I didn’t blame him. We’d buried too many brothers under the weight of false peace.

But allies were needed.

And this one wasn’t just anyone.

Alpha Kael of the Ebon Shore. A frostborne warrior-prince. Said to be ruthless in battle but gentle in speech. Said to be unclaimed. Said to be… beautiful.

I didn’t care about that.

I cared that he was powerful. Dangerous. And curious about me.

The bell tower tolled once—low, heavy. A warning disguised as a welcome.

I turned. “Let’s go meet our guest.”

***********

FREYA – SOUTHERN RIDGE

The wind shifted halfway down the ridge.

It wasn’t just colder. It smelled wrong… like ash, burnt magic, and forgotten bones.

“They’ve been burning something,” Elias muttered beside me.

“Someone,” I corrected. “This land was sacred once.”

We were a small company. Too small to start a war. Just enough to die in one.

The obsidian temple loomed ahead, rebuilt over ancient stone, pulsing with unfinished magic. The gate tower was cracked, not yet sealed.

“It’s not just a temple,” Elias said. “It’s a doorway.”

“To what?”

He met my gaze. “To ruin.”

Two figures approached from across the stone bridge.

My pulse quickened. “That’s Beacon. And Nyra.”

Beside me, Elias tensed.

“I’ll go with you,” he said quietly.

I turned to him. “You sure that’s wise?”

His jaw clenched. “I followed Beacon once. Swore by him. Trusted him. But that was before I knew what he was becoming.”

My gaze held his. Searching. Testing.

“You still believe in our side?” I asked.

“I believe in stopping the wrong one this time.”

I nodded slowly. “Then stay here. Watch the flank. If this goes sideways, I need someone who knows how Beacon thinks.”

“You don’t have to play bait,” he said, voice low.

“I’m not,” I said. “I’m giving them a reason to talk before they start killing.”

And I walked.

**********

RHEA – HIGH CHAMBER

The war chamber flickered with firelight.

Kael entered like he belonged. His pale hair gleamed, coat elegant and silent as shadow. He offered trade—timber, steel, grain, warriors.

“What do you want in return?” Magnus growled.

Kael’s eyes stayed on mine. “A chance to know the future queen of the North.”

Silence. Thick as blood.

Damon stiffened. Lysa’s hand twitched near her blade.

But I didn’t flinch. “You came for more than trade.”

“I came,” Kael said, stepping closer, “because I heard stories. Of a girl who bled for her crown. Who buried her sister and kept walking. I came to see if she was real.”

I held his gaze. “I’m not a story.”

“No,” he said softly. “You’re something rarer.”

*******

Later, I stood alone at the war tower, watching Kael’s ship. Its sails moved like serpent wings in the wind. Unease gnawed at my ribs.

Then Damon burst in.

“The ship isn’t empty.”

I turned sharply. “What?”

“We searched the upper deck. But the hold was locked. Southern Rebellion seal.”

He dropped the cracked crest on the table.

My blood ran cold.

“They smuggled a prisoner?”

“Just one. Female. Shackled. Gagged. Breathing.”

“Who?”

He exhaled. “Beacon’s daughter.”

****************

FREYA – TEMPLE STEPS

Beacon watched me like I was a ghost.

Beside him, Nyra smiled.

Not a smile of welcome.

A smile of hunger.

“You brought soldiers,” Beacon said.

“You brought a corpse for a daughter,” I replied.

Nyra tilted her head. “Not a corpse. A rebirth.”

She lunged, too fast for a clean parry. Steel clashed. Sparks flew.

Her voice hissed in my ear as we fought: “Tell your Alpha sister… the flame that crowned her will be the same one that burns her.”

I twisted my blade, slashing her shoulder. Blood hit the temple floor.

“You’re insane.”

She only laughed. “You don’t even know what she took from me.”

The battle exploded—arrows flying, magic shaking stone.

I saw Elias fall.

I saw Beacon vanish into shadow.

But Nyra didn’t die.

She slashed her palm, whispered something old, and vanished in a swirl of black flame.

Just before she disappeared, her gaze locked with mine.

“Tell Rhea,” she called, voice echoing unnaturally, “that the dead don’t forget.”

Then she was gone.

*********

RHEA – DAWN

The report arrived just before sunrise.

I frowned as I skimmed the parchment, confusion tightening my chest.

Freya… injured. Elias… alive. Beacon… gone.

Nyra… vanished.

Her hand curled around the edge of the message. When the hell did they leave?

She hadn’t even realized they’d gone. No warning. No word. Just silence and now this… blood and vanishing acts wrapped in riddles.

Someone had betrayed her trust. Or worse… protected Freya behind her back.

But one line stopped my breath.

She spoke your name.

She said the dead don’t forget.

I stood alone in the war room, hand clenched over the map. Outside, the sea howled.

And for the first time since taking the throne, I felt the past rising again.

Not as memory.

But as vengeance.