Chapter 35

The journey back from the Frozen Spine felt less like a march of war and more like a glorious homecoming. Snowflakes danced gently through the pine trees, no longer carrying the bitter bite of threat, but soft and pure as the golden sun broke through the retreating winter clouds. Behind the victorious vanguard, bound in heavy silver chains, walked Emperor Valerius and the remaining high officers of the Silver Crest Dominion—living proof that the foreign empire had been brought to its knees.

As the heavy oak and iron gates of the Frostwell estate swung wide, a breathless hush fell across the thousands of pack members gathered in the grand courtyard. Families, elders, and young pups lined the stone roads, their eyes wide with anxious anticipation.

Alpha Asher and Luna Lydia rode at the head of the procession on matching warhorses, flanked by Beta Silas, Gamma Liam, and Delta Curtus. The moment Asher dismounted and gently lifted Lydia down into his broad arms, a collective gasp swept through the crowd. Lydia did not look like a survivor of a brutal battle; she looked breathtakingly radiant. Her dark velvet cloak caught the sun, her dark hair was bound with silver leaves, and her golden mate mark pulsed with a soft, radiant light against the curve of her neck.

Hand in hand, the sovereign couple ascended the high marble balcony overlooking the entire territory. Asher raised his broad hand, his deep, resonant voice booming across the valley with absolute Alpha authority.

“People of Frostwell!” Asher declared, his icy blue eyes glowing with intense pride. “The Silver Crest Dominion is shattered! Their Emperor stands in chains, their forward bases are ashes, and the borders of our homeland are secured forever!”

A fraction of a second of stunned silence gave way to an earth-shaking roar. Wolves wept with overwhelming relief, embracing one another as wild cheers echoed off the granite peaks.

Lydia stepped up to the stone railing, her clear, majestic voice carrying effortless warmth into every corner of the courtyard. “We did not just win a war today,” she spoke softly, yet her words held the power of absolute truth. “We built a future where our families will live without fear, where our territory is unshakeable, and where no foreign threat or internal treason will ever touch us again!”

Beside them, Beta Silas stood with a disciplined smile, his amber eyes bright as the lower-tier wolves and warriors roared his name alongside their sovereigns.

Asher turned to Lydia, pulling her flush against his broad chest. In full view of their ecstatic, cheering territory, he leaned down and pressed a deep, fierce, and possessive kiss to her lips. The golden energy of their mate bond flared into a brilliant, shimmering aurora above the estate, sealing an eternal era of peace, prosperity, and love for the Frostwell pack.

The Great Hall of the Frostwell estate was transformed into a breath-taking sanctuary of triumph and grand alliance. Banners of deep pine green, Howler silver, and the vibrant crests of neighbouring mountain packs hung from the towering timber rafters. Grand stone hearths crackled with sweet cedar logs, casting a warm, golden glow over endless oak tables heavy with roasted venison, spiced mead, and winter berries.

At the high dais, Alpha Asher sat with his broad arm draped securely around Lydia, pulling her flush against his chest as they hosted the visiting sovereigns. Beside them, Alpha Mason Caldwell laughed boisterously with the neighbouring Alpha of the Ironwood pack, celebrating the total destruction of the Silver Crest Dominion. Lydia beamed, her emerald eyes radiant beneath the soft chandelier light, her golden mate mark humming softly with contentment as Asher’s thumb idly traced circles over her hip.

Near the main archway, Gamma Liam stood watch, his broad frame clad in dark formal leather. Even during a feast, his disciplined nature made it impossible for him to completely drop his guard. His sharp gaze scanned the laughing crowd, keeping a vigilant eye on the hall’s perimeters alongside Beta Silas.

Then, without warning, the air shifted.

A scent sliced through the heavy aromas of roasted meats and sweet wine—a intoxicating fragrance of crisp mountain ozone, wild blackberries, and fresh snowfall. Liam’s wolf, usually quiet and stoic beneath his hardened warrior exterior, suddenly let out a deafening, thunderous roar deep in his chest.

Liam froze, his heart slamming against his ribs like a sledgehammer. Every nerve in his body flared to life with intense, burning heat.

Slowly, as if drawn by an invisible iron thread, Liam turned his head toward the eastern entrance where late-arriving delegates from the Howler border guard were entering the hall. Walking alongside Alpha Mason’s personal guard was a young woman with long, raven-black hair bound in leather braids, sharp hazel eyes, and a lean, athletic grace born of high-altitude hunting. Her name was Elena, Alpha Mason’s chief border tracker.

The moment Liam’s eyes locked onto hers across the crowded room, time seemed to stop.

Elena halted mid-step, her breath catching sharply in her throat as her hazel eyes widened. She spun toward the perimeter, her gaze locking onto Liam’s towering figure. An electric shock of raw, undeniable magic snapped between them, illuminating their minds with a blinding, sacred truth.

The Moon Goddess had spoken.

Mine, Liam’s wolf growled, the word echoing with absolute, overwhelming finality into his soul.

Across the room, Asher felt the massive surge of energy ripple through the pack network. He looked up from Lydia, his blue eyes instantly catching Liam standing completely transfixed. A broad, predatory grin spread across Asher’s face. Beside him, Lydia followed his gaze and gasped softly, a radiant smile illuminating her face as she saw the sheer wonder written across the stern Gamma’s face.

“It seems the Moon Goddess isn’t done blessing our house tonight, my Luna,” Asher whispered, pressing a warm kiss against Lydia’s temple as they watched Liam take his first step toward his destined mate.