Chapter Thirty-eight: Threats

VARUL

The council chamber smelled of wet wool, smoke, and stale blood. Not because the dead lay within its walls, but because the men who had carried them home did.

The lords, elders, and commanders were already seated when I walked in. They rose from their seats around the long oak table. Water dripped steadily from travel cloaks onto the stone floor, forming dark pools beneath worn boots.

I took my place at the head of the table, and they followed suit.

“Report.”

Omri stepped forward. He unrolled a stained map across the table, anchoring its corners with iron weights. Silence settled over the chamber.

“When we got to Linewatch there was nothing left to save. The barricades were destroyed. The watchtowers collapsed inward. Horses were… torn apart.” He swallowed. “Eight dead men and about twenty dead horses.”

“Tracks?”

“Indeed there were tracks, Alpha.” Omri reached into a leather satchel and withdrew several sheets of parchment. Upon each was a charcoal rubbing of enormous paw prints. He laid them before me. “They match Scout Billan’s account precisely.”

I stared at the drawings. Each print was nearly twice the size of an ordinary wolf’s. Unfortunately, Billan had not imagined them.

Zophyr opened another pouch. Coarse strands of blue-gray fur slid onto the oak table. “The beasts must have shed these during the attack.”

Around the table, several lords leaned closer without touching them. Naturally blue. Not dyed. Not painted. A murmur spread through the chamber.

“What else?” I asked.

The two commanders exchanged a glance. That hesitation told me enough.

Omri answered quietly. “We discovered three villages on the journey home.” The murmurs ceased. “The first had been emptied.” He pointed to a location southwest of Linewatch. “Every animal was gone. Sheep. Cattle. Horses.”

“The people?”

“Dead.” Another mark. “The second village had burned.” His jaw tightened. “The third…” His voice faltered for the first time. “…contained families. There were children’s toys scattered in the snow.”

“Any survivors?”

“One. A hunter. He was found wandering the forest three miles from the village.”

“Well, can he testify?” It was an old elder who asked.

Omri slowly shook his head. “He attacked the men who rescued him. He no longer recognizes friend from foe. He repeats only two words. ‘Blue eyes.’ Over and again.”

Voices erupted all at once.

“Now, Alpha,” Elder Nola began, raising her voice to be heard over the ruckus. “I had an inkling when the first report came about the blue creatures. I did not mention it because it all seemed impossible. But seeing these furs now, I think we can all agree that it is what we think it is…”

More murmurs broke out.

“Direwolves!” A lord exclaimed down the table.

“That is preposterous. Direwolves have been extinct for millenia,” another lord countered.

“Well, obviously they have returned. The furs do not lie,” Elder Nola answered.

“Direwolves were last heard of during the Mage Purge. Only mages could create them with old magic, but every mage was put to death and sorcery has been abolished,” Krev said, and a few heads nodded in support.

“Look at the furs, my lords!” Elder Nolan exclaimed, pointing at the blue furs at the center of the table. “This is real. Direwolves have returned, and if so, it means…there is someone in the North linked to old magic!”

The implication settled heavily over the chamber. Magic. A forgotten word. A forbidden one. The North had eradicated mages centuries ago. Temples destroyed. Spellbooks burned. Bloodlines ended. Magic belonged to history. It did not belong here. Not now. Not in my kingdom.

I rested both hands upon the table and the hall quieted.

“Elder Nola is right. I heard stories of Direwolves as a pup, and the descriptions match the creatures that have appeared at our borders. Stealth, strength, *blue*.”

A hush went down the table.

I continued. “I officially declare that the North is no longer secure. Until we find a solution, every pack will double its border patrols. Outer villages nearest the eastern forests are to be evacuated behind fortified settlements. No civilian travels alone. Signal fires at every watchtower. Any unusual tracks, disappearances, or attacks are to be reported directly to Pillak Towers. No exceptions.”

Heads nodded grimly around the chamber.

“My Alpha,” Krev said.

I looked toward him. His expression remained thoughtful.

“Forgive the observation.” He paused just long enough for the room to wait. “The timing is… unfortunate.” No one spoke. “These attacks began shortly after the arrival of our southern princess.”

Krev lifted a hand. “I am not suggesting causation. Merely coincidence.”

Several lords exchanged uncertain glances.

I narrowed my eyes at Krev and leaned back against my seat. I had decades of council experience and I knew that men like him poked holes with the sole aim of rattling.

I also knew that he was one of the core council elders who had supported Kanaan’s rule and doubted my reign as Alpha.

My voice was deceptively calm when I asked, “Do you have a problem with my wife, Lord Krev?”

He chuckled nervously and placed a hand to his chest. “Of course not, my Alpha. I was merely—“

“Or perhaps you it is because you still bemoan the fact that I had married Princess Sigrun instead of your daughter.”

I smiled coolly as his face turned red.

The slimy bastard could not be subtle even if he tried. He had tried to forge an alliance between Riverhold and Pillak by pushing his bird-like spawn at me to take as a wife. I had turned him down. Mostly because men like him had no heart and cared only about one thing: becoming part of the ruling bloodline.

“I have no problems with the Luna, my Alpha,” Krev intoned smoothly.

“Good. Hence, desist from bringing her up in council meetings in any form or light. First it was my marriage bed, and now it is stirring up conspiracies that she wields magic.” I pinned him with a hard glare. “I will not take the next occasion lightly, Krev.”

He nodded, his eyes sparkling with dislike and anger. Yet, he inclined his head respectfully. “I apologize, my Alpha.”

“My Luna’s arrival in the North is not related to the Direwolf killings,” I say loudly, my gaze tracking every face in the room. I needed them to get it clearly that I would not allow a court where they think it is passable to throw darts at me and mine.

“She is a Southern *human*,” I continued, “the timing is simply a coincidence.”

Halvar slammed both palms onto the table. “Pardon me, Alpha, but this council cares little for coincidence.” His hard stare settled on me. “We care that our borders have failed.” No one interrupted him. “The North handed its future to a young Alpha before his fangs had fully grown.”

My wolf stirred. Hot. Restless.

Halvar continued. “Had Kanaan remained upon this throne…” His gaze swept across the council. “…Linewatch would still stand. The villages would still live. We would not be sitting here *wondering* whether monsters walk our forests. No one would even have the *balls* to practice magic on Northern soil!”

I rose. Slowly.

Every eye followed me as I walked around the table.

Halvar remained standing. Proud. Defiant. Utterly stupid.

I stopped before him. Close enough that he had to lift his chin to hold my gaze. The wolf beneath my skin pressed forward. My claws slowly broke through my skin.

“Say my predecessor’s name again, Lord Halvar.” My voice was quiet. I smiled coldly, flashing my fangs. “I dare you.”