Chapter 4

Faye's pov

I woke up to the sound of angry yells. 

I sat up and looks around my room for the source of the sound. It certainly wasn't here. 

Wind rushed through my room and brushed my skin, cooling the area around my neck.

My hand quickly flew to the left side of my neck and I sucked in a breath.

It wasn't a nightmare. 

The kiss. The mark. All of it was real.

A scream tore through my lips. 

*****

By the time I had bathed and dressed in a fluffy cotton turtle neck and plaid skirt, I walked downstairs to get breakfast like I was used to.

But by the time, I arrived downstairs, I realize I had walked in on something serious.

Tension the size eor Jupiter rolled off the walls, thick and unrelenting. Nobody, not a single soul, smiled or even laughed. Not even the pups who were usuallt careless and wild during breakfast time. All of them sat quietly in their seats. 

I looked around the vast room and noticed that something I shouldn't have — everyone had the same look in their eyes. Not anger, not mirth but something that resonated in all wolves when something dangerous was coming — cold, bone-chilling, heart-wrenching fear.

A war was coming. 

“What's going on?” I asked to confirm but no one answered.

They all stared accusingly now as though it was my fault.

A hand pressed down on my shoulders and I looked back. It was Beta Livian, Father's Beta and his looks said it all. A war was indeed coming and it was all because of me.

I spent the morning and afternoon, hiding in the garden — No maids, no guards, nothing. It was just me, the flowers, butterflies and the wind.

My fingers gripped the edge of the white swing until my knuckles ached. 

The whispers about me weren't subtle. It was beyond bad.

“This is terrible. The BloodMoon pack won't let this slide.”

“They've lost their future Alpha King. If there's one thing I know, that's the fact that we're screwed. All of us.”

“You're right but what happened?”

“I heard the Alpha King's son was killed by one of our own.”

“What?”

“Yeah. It was a fight over a girl. Can you believe it?”

“What? A girl?”

“And not just any girl… Alpha King Fenrirson's daughter, his mate.”

I squeezed my eyes tight at that last part. 

Killian didn't kill Jake just because I was his (Jake's) mate. He did it because Jake tried to rape me but no one knew the truth. 

All they knew was the possessive Alpha heir of the Silver Frost pack kills the son of another powerful leader over a woman.

In the werewolf world, when that happens, it was considered a power move,

A challenge,

A declaration of war.

I exhaled sharply and tried to push the thoughts away but guilt kept clawing at my chest. I didn't ask for any of this. I didn't ask for Killian's protection… 

Now, I wish mom was still alive. I would run into her arms and cry my sorrows away. This was all too much for me to bear. 

3 days later, the BloodMoon pack sent their first message 

The message was left on our borders — The body of our Beta's son, Carmichael. His throat was torn out and the words “Blood for Blood” was carved into his chest.

I panicked so hard I passed out.

I thought it would be over but the second message was much worse.

An emissary stood before my father and Killian in the pack's grand hall as he delivered his message :

“The shadows that fall across your park are not just the absence of light, but the presence of my wrath. The wind that rustles through the trees is not just the gentle breeze but the whisper of my vengeance. The moon that hangs in the sky is not just a celestial body, but a harbinger of your doom. Be ready, Slender. War is coming!” 

My entire body went numb with fear. I turned to look at my father. He clenched his jaw so tight I swore I heard the grind of his teeth.  

It was the first time in my life I had ever seen after speechless. In a few days, we will be at war.  

The week passed by in a blur of activities — warriors training in the field. Young pups joining the military infantry, swords being sharpened, muskets being polished. No one asked questions. They were ready to fight and I could tell they had been waiting for one for a long time. 

Guards followed me everywhere I went. Ever since the emissary left, Father had insisted I take my guards with me everywhere I went.

When I wasn't reading or painting or sitting in the garden, I was looking for Killian. 

It's ironic how I avoided him and now, I'm the one looking for him.

He was scarce around the pack and I was getting worried. 

I spent hours searching with the guards until I dismissed them and decided to look for him on my own. And I found him.

He was in the pack archives, deep within the underground chambers of the packhouse. 

The scent of old parchment and candle wax filled the air. Scrolls and book and brittle pieces of history lay scattered across the table he stood behind. 

“Killian?” I called out but he didn't even look up or much less acknowledge my presence.

“You're reading?” My eyes fell on the parchment in his hands.

“What gives,” He said, marking something on another paper beside him. “What are you doing here?” 

“I was looking for you.” 

When I said that, he lifted his eyes to meet mine and I exhaled softly. 

There were bags under his eyes as if he hadn't slept for days. He looked tired. 

“Why are you here, Killian? Everyone's preparing for war.”

“I came here to get answers.”

“Answers to what exactly?”

“Our history,” he said, gesturing to the texts spread out before him. “There must be something about our bloodline, about why we are the way we are.” 

“Killian…”

“I can't let go of this, Faye.” 

“You're not —”

He cut me off. “You should go.”

He turned his focus to the scrolls like I wasn't standing there. 

I hated how he could do this to me but what I hated the most was the most treacherous part of me that didn't want to leave.