Chapter 33

The victory march back to the Frostwell estate was nothing short of a royal procession. News of the dual triumphs—the total destruction of the Dominion vanguard at Whispering Ridge and Beta Silas’s bloody ambush in the southern canyon—had raced ahead of the army.

When the vanguard crossed the main gates beneath the crimson glow of the afternoon sun, thousands of pack members lined the stone roads. Banners of silver pine and emerald velvet snapped in the mountain breeze, and wild, roaring cheers rang against the towering cliffs. For the first time in years, the citizens felt complete relief; the traitors within were dead, the foreign menace on the border was shattered, and their sovereigns walked among them not as distant tyrants, but as legendary guardians.

At the steps of the grand estate, Alpha Mason Caldwell stood alongside Yvonne. Seeing his daughter ride up beside Asher, her cheeks flushed with health and eyes bright with sovereign power, Mason let out a booming laugh of paternal pride.

“You handled those foreign fools like a true Howler strategist, my daughter!” Mason declared, embracing Lydia tightly as she dismounted, before clapping Asher on his broad shoulder with deep, mutual respect.

Yet, before the feasting could begin, duty called from beneath the earth.

Deep within the subterranean dungeons carved into the living granite beneath the mountain, the ambient temperature plunged to an icy chill. Torches flickered against damp stone walls, casting long, menacing shadows down the corridor of silver-reinforced cells.

Alpha Asher, Luna Lydia, Beta Silas, and Gamma Liam descended the spiral stairs. The heavy iron door of the lowest interrogation chamber groaned open, revealing Commander Vane and High Captain Drake. Both men were bound to heavy stone pillars with silver-laced chains that burned faintly against their skin, preventing their wolves from healing or shifting.

Vane, bruised and sullen, glared up with venomous pride. Drake, the captured leader of the covert assassin unit, looked decidedly more rattled, his eyes darting frantically between Asher’s looming silhouette and Silas’s cold, disciplined stare.

Asher stepped into the centre of the chamber, his broad arms crossed over his chest, his presence filling the room with an oppressive Alpha aura that made the stone floor vibrate.

“You have two choices, Vane,” Asher began, his low voice smooth yet laced with absolute lethally. “You can tell us everything about the Silver Crest Dominion’s remaining assets along our borders, or I can let my Beta test his frontline interrogation techniques on you.”

Silas stepped forward, resting a broad hand on the hilt of his dagger, his amber eyes locked onto Drake with razor-sharp intensity.

Vane spat onto the stone floor. “You think executing us changes anything, Frost? The High Court of the Dominion knows your pack was fractured by Thomas and Cassius! Our Emperor will bring five thousand bayonets to your pass before winter sets in!”

“Your Emperor is misinformed,” Lydia spoke up, stepping out from Asher’s shadow. Her frost-silver cloak caught the torchlight, and her green eyes burned with icy clarity. “The traitors who sold our secrets are dead. Our southern trade routes are secure, and my father’s Howler regiments have already mobilized to lock down our western flank. If your Emperor marches five thousand men into these mountains, he will be sending them into a frozen grave.”

Drake swallowed hard, his spirit breaking beneath the weight of Lydia’s calm, terrifyingly accurate assessment.

“She... she speaks the truth, Vane,” Drake muttered hoarsely, his breathing shallow beneath the silver chains. “The spies in the capital told us the Caldwell-Frostwell bond was a sham... that the Luna was broken. They lied to us!”

Drake turned his head frantically to Asher. “I’ll talk! I’ll give you the exact coordinates of our supply caches across the river and the names of the merchant houses funding our border garrisons—just don’t leave us to burn in these silver cuffs!”

Asher’s eyes flickered with grim satisfaction. He looked at Silas and Liam. “Extract every map, name, and cipher he has. When you are finished, lock them down tight. They will serve as our bargaining chips when we dictate terms to the Dominion Court.”

“Consider it done, Alpha,” Silas replied with a crisp nod.

As night fell, the heavy atmosphere of the dungeons gave way to magnificent merriment in the Great Hall. The vast timber roof echoed with joyous music, ringing laughter, and the clinking of heavy silver tankards. Grand stone hearths roared with blazing cedar logs, filling the room with sweet smoke and radiant warmth.

At the head table upon the high dais, Asher and Lydia presided over their people. Beside them sat Beta Silas, Gamma Liam, Delta Curtus, and Alpha Mason, all raising their goblets as toasts echoed across the long oak tables.

Asher stood, his tall, imposing figure drawing immediate, respectful silence across the entire hall.

“Tonight, we feast for Frostwell!” Asher shouted, his voice carrying like thunder into every corner. “We honour our brave warriors who bled at Whispering Ridge! We honour Beta Silas, whose sharp blade protected our southern brethren!”

The crowd erupted into wild, pounding cheers, chanting Silas’s name as the young Beta offered a humble, stoic bow.

Asher then turned his intense blue gaze down to his mate, his hand reaching out to wrap around hers. “And above all, we give honour to our Luna—Lydia! Whose wisdom saw through the enemy’s shadow, and whose courage shines as the unshakeable heart of this kingdom!”

The roar that followed shook the very crystal chandeliers overhead. Wolves stood on their chairs, raising their swords and goblets to the sky, howling in unified, passionate devotion to their sovereign queen.

Lydia felt a flush of beautiful, overwhelming joy wash through her chest. The haunting fears of her captivity, the torment of Cindy’s malice, and the dark shadow of Thomas’s betrayal were completely gone, replaced by the profound love of thousands of loyal souls.

Beside her, Asher pulled her up into his embrace. Beneath the golden light of the chandeliers, in front of the entire cheering pack, he wrapped his arms tightly around her waist and brought his lips down to hers in a deep, lingering, possessive kiss.

The golden mate bond erupted between them, sending visible, shimmering sparks of light cascading around their intertwined bodies. Lydia leaned into him, her hands curling into his thick hair, giving herself entirely to the warmth of his heart.

When Asher finally pulled back, resting his forehead against hers, his breath misted warmly against her lips. “I told you, my love,” he whispered softly for her ears alone, his blue eyes burning with infinite devotion. “You are my sovereign, my salvation, and my home. Together, we are invincible.”

Lydia looked up into the eyes of her Alpha, her heart overflowing with unshakeable peace. “Together, always,” she whispered back.