LOGIN*Chapter 40: The letter wasn’t a bluff. Two nights after it arrived, a fire broke out in the grain stores on the south edge of the city. Not natural. Not accidental. Moonstone dust in the kindling—Aria smelled it before the smoke hit her lungs. No one died. But the stores were gone. Aria stood in the ash at dawn, Kael at her shoulder, Mara behind them. “Message received,” Mara said quietly. Kael’s jaw was tight. “They’re escalating.” Aria nodded. “Then we stop playing defense.” She turned to Corin, who’d arrived with the first responders. “Where’s the next target?” Corin hesitated. “Western ridge. Smaller cell. Ten wolves. But—” “But what?” Aria pressed. Corin looked at her. “The pattern’s changed. They’re not hiding anymore. They’re waiting.” Aria felt the Moonstone hum, low and warning. “Waiting for what?” “For you,” Corin said. ---They moved at dusk. No stealth this time. No split teams. Just fifty wolves riding hard for the ridge, banners furled
*Chapter 39: The first target was in the eastern lowlands. Corin’s scouts had confirmed it three days after the border meeting: a group calling themselves the Hollow Fang, operating out of an abandoned mining outpost. Twenty wolves, Moonstone dust in play, no clear leader. “Small enough to handle,” Corin said, spreading the map on the war table. “Big enough to matter.” Aria studied the mark. “How recent is this?” “Two weeks,” Corin replied. “They’ve been quiet since. Either planning or waiting.” Mara tapped the outpost location. “It’s a choke point. If we hit it fast, they won’t have time to scatter.” Kael looked at Aria. “Your call.” Aria exhaled. “We go. Fast strike, no casualties if we can avoid it. Ash comes too.” Ash, leaning against the wall, raised an eyebrow. “Me?” “You know how they think,” Aria said. “I need that.” Ash nodded once. “Alright.” ---They moved at night. Twenty wolves total—Mooncrest, Blackthorn, Northern guard, and Corin’s March scouts.
*Chapter 38: The eastern ridge wasn’t supposed to have people on it. It was dead ground—rock, scrub, and wind that cut through armor like it wasn’t there. Too exposed for trade, too cold for farming, too far from water for a camp. That’s why the scouts were worried. Aria crouched at the ridge line with Kael and Mara, watching the group below through a spyglass. Twenty-three wolves. No banners. No fires. Moving in formation. “Military,” Mara said again, confirming what they all knew. “See how they space themselves? That’s training.” Kael adjusted the glass. “Not Council. Their gear’s wrong. Too light, too new.” Aria lowered the glass. “Then who?” Myra arrived a minute later, breath frosting in the air. She didn’t need the glass. “Eastern March,” she said quietly. Aria frowned. “The March? I thought they dissolved after the old war.” “They did,” Myra said. “Officially.” Kael’s jaw tightened. “Unofficially?” Myra’s expression was grim. “Unofficially, they
*Chapter 37: The first joint Council meeting in a hundred years was a mess. Not because anyone was fighting. Because no one knew where to sit. Mooncrest elders kept drifting toward the left side of the table. Blackthorn drifted right. Northern Clans stood in the back like they expected someone to start swinging. Mirel had to bang her staff three times before anyone sat down. Aria sat at the head, Kael to her right, Mara to her left. Myra and Ash stood behind them—Myra as Northern envoy, Ash as liaison. “Let’s get this over with,” Aria said. Mirel nodded. “Agenda: trade routes, patrol schedules, and the matter of the Ashen Fang prisoners.” Elder Varn’s old seat was empty. No one had claimed it yet. The meeting dragged for two hours. Trade was easy. Patrols were harder. Northern wolves didn’t do “shared shifts.” Southern wolves didn’t like “solo scouting in blizzards.” They compromised. Barely. Then came the prisoners. “There are thirty-seven of them,” Mirel said.
*Chapter 36: The Ashen Fang prisoner didn’t speak for three days. He sat in the holding cell under the temple, hands bound in silver, eyes fixed on the floor. No food, no threats, no pleading. Just silence. Aria hated it. “You sure he’s not already dead in there?” Selene asked, leaning against the cell bars. Aria checked his pulse again. Slow, but steady. “He’s alive. Just waiting.” “For what?” Kael asked. Aria didn’t answer. She already knew. On the fourth night, he looked up. “Lyra sent me,” he said. The room went quiet. Mara stepped forward. “Lyra’s in a Council cell three levels down. She hasn’t seen anyone in a year.” The prisoner smiled. It wasn’t a nice smile. “Not _that_ Lyra. The other one.” Aria felt cold. “There’s another Lyra?” Kael asked. The prisoner nodded. “Lyra Voss had a sister. Younger. Smarter. She changed her name after Varn fell. Calls herself Ash now.” Selene swore under her breath. Aria crouched in front of the cell. “Where is s
*Chapter 35: The Northern Clans didn’t send envoys. They sent Myra, ten warriors, and a sled pulled by a wolf that was too big to be natural.Aria saw them cresting the ridge at dawn. The city went quiet for three minutes—every wolf stopping to stare at the frost clinging to their cloaks, the scars on their arms, the way they moved like the cold belonged to them.Kael was at her side before the gates opened. “Your aunt travels light,” he said dryly.Mara snorted. “She travels like she’s expecting a fight. Which means there’s a fight.”Aria stepped forward as Myra dismounted. “You didn’t say you were bringing an army,” Aria said.Myra’s mouth quirked. “I didn’t say I wasn’t.” She looked past Aria, eyes narrowing at the mixed patrols on the walls. “So it’s true. Mooncrest and Blackthorn walk together.”“Mostly,” Aria said. “We’re working on it.”Myra nodded once. “Good. Because the Frost Warden isn’t the only thing stirring.”That got everyone’s attention.---The war room was







