CHAPTER 10 – The Siege of Shadows

(Afnan’s POV)

The morning arrives too.

No birds, no distant training shouts, not even the steady rhythm of the pack’s heartbeat that usually hums beneath these walls. Just silence, heavy and wrong.

When I open the curtains, the courtyard below is crawling with guards.

More than yesterday.

They stand in pairs, watching opposite directions, watching for something or against something, I can’t tell.

The twins stir at the noise of clinking armor. I hush them back to sleep and wrap my cloak tighter. The air feels colder even though sunlight spills across the floor.

At first I think I’m imagining it, the faint metallic tang in the air, the weight of eyes on my back. But when I step into the corridor, two warriors shift instantly, blocking the stairway.

“Orders from the Alpha,” one says. “No one leaves the east wing.”

I blink. “Even me?”

His gaze flickers toward the children behind me. “Especially you, Luna.”

The title again. It cuts differently this time not mockery, not respect, but confusion. These soldiers don’t know which law to follow: their Alpha’s command or the Council’s whisper.

I nod slowly. “Very well.”

Then I close the door and lock it.

If Delph truly sent them, it means he’s protecting us.

If he didn’t… then the Council already owns them.

Hours drag by.

The twins play quietly near the hearth while I pace the room. Every creak of the floorboards makes my wolf twitch.

A knock comes at midday soft, rhythmic. A pattern I don’t recognize.

I open the door with only a crack.

Ruhn, the youngest elder, stands there without his robes, dressed like an ordinary pack wolf. Sweat clings to his temples.

“They’re moving tonight,” he whispers.

My pulse spikes. “Who?”

“The Council. Serena convinced them the pups are a threat. They’ll perform the Oath test by force if the Alpha refuses.” He glances over his shoulder. “You need to hide.”

I almost laughed. “Where? There’s nowhere in Bloodstone the Council doesn’t reach.”

His expression wavers. “There is one place the catacombs under the northern wall. The rogues used them during the Frost War. No elder will step there willingly.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

He swallows. “Because my sister was omega. Because I watched her die for less.”

For a moment, I see the fear in him, the kind that doesn’t come from politics but from conscience.

“Help me get the children there,” I say.

He nods, quick, desperate. “At dusk. When the bells sound for training.”

Before I can thank him, he slips away down the corridor, leaving only the scent of anxiety behind.

The rest of the day stretches thin. I quietly pack blankets, bread, and the little wooden wolf the twins like to chew on. Every sound feels too loud.

When evening finally falls, the training bells ring across the compound, masking footsteps and whispers. I scoop the twins into my arms and step into the corridor.

Torches flicker low. The guards at the far end are gone, probably drawn to the drills outside. I move fast, bare feet silent on the stone.

Halfway down the hall, a door creaks. A shadow detaches from the wall.

Delph.

He’s in plain black clothes, no insignia, eyes darker than night.

“Where are you going?” His voice is low but edged with steel.

I freeze. “You told the guards I couldn’t leave. Now you ask why?”

He closes the distance between us, gaze flicking to the bundles in my arms. “Someone told you something.”

“Ruhn. He said the Council plans to take them.”

His jaw tightens. “They do.”

“Then let me go before they get here.”

He shakes his head. “No. I have another plan.”

“I don’t trust your plans.”

“I don’t blame you.”

The sound of distant horns interrupts us short, sharp, urgent. Not training bells.

Delph’s head snaps toward the courtyard. “Too late.”

“What is it?”

“They’ve come for you.”

For a heartbeat, we just stare at each other the Alpha and the omega, the past and everything it broke. Then he steps forward and presses a silver key into my hand.

“The cellar beneath the stables,” he says. “There’s a tunnel that leads beyond the north wall. Take them.”

“What about you?”

He meets my eyes. “I’ll keep them busy.”

“No,” I whisper, shaking my head. “If you fight them, they’ll”

“I’ve already chosen my side.”

The footsteps grow louder. Shouts echo through the hall.

Delph turns, power rippling off him in waves. “Go, Afnan. Now.”

For once, I don’t argue.

I run.

The corridor stretches ahead, filled with shadow and smoke. Behind me, the first crash of combat rattles the walls, the sound of claws against steel, of wolves roaring for dominance.

I clutch the twins close, heart hammering.

Every step echoes the same promise in my mind: You’ll be safe. You’ll live. Whatever happens, you’ll live.

And somewhere behind that promise, beneath the noise of battle, another thought whispersone I don’t dare say aloud.

Please, Delph. Don’t die for me.