Chapter Twenty-eight: A Council of Ravens

SIGRUN

“Yes, your hatred for me was communicated perfectly through that kiss,” he said drily.

“Ugh, you’re insufferable.” I scoffed and shoved at his chest, needing to put some distance between us. But of course he didn’t even budge.

He smirked, but soon the amusement in his eyes faded and he turned sober. His eyes searched my face as though he was committing my features to his memory. Something strange tugged at my heart.

“The North is no longer safe, Princess. Our borders were attacked a week ago. I lost good men.”

Oh. The fight went out of me as soon as his words landed. People had died.

“Is…Is that why you had to leave that night?” I asked softly.

He nodded. “Yes. We had to make it to Linewatch as soon as possible. I spent the rest of that night on strategy discussions with my men. It is why I couldn’t come back to you. I should have informed you before we rode out. Or sent a message across while on the way. I was wrong. In the future, I will make sure to keep you informed about such matters.”

Oh.

Something warm unfurled in my chest at his words. Varul didn’t seem like the type of man to willfully admit to his mistakes. But he just did. I was stunned. And honestly freaked out.

Sexiness and emotional intelligence was a lethal combination — one that I could see chipping away at my defenses. I wasn’t sure I liked having my defenses down.

I was not from this world, and until I somehow found a way back home, I needed to keep him at arm’s length.

If only I could find a way to do that.

His hand moved to cup my jaw gently. “I have a duty, Princess, to you and to the North. And that is to keep you safe. It is not to be negotiated. Until I know what stalks my borders, I will know where you are at all times. You are my wife, Princess. You are mine to protect.”

My heart did a little flip. Shit. I think I’m getting in trouble. I bit the inside of my cheek.

Although I wasn’t a big fan of the idea of him—or anyone really—policing my every move, I had to agree that his worries were founded. If lives had been lost, then the risks were real.

“Alright,” I whispered finally.

The Alpha looked pleased by my acquiescence. “Good.”

He eased away from me, and my traitorous body quietly mourned the loss of his warmth. “The council will be here soon. They want an emergency meeting. I sent out missives for it to be held here, over dinner, at Pillak Towers.”

I nodded, quietly wondering what that had to do with me.

“They also want to meet you.”

I raised a brow. “Me? Why?”

“Because you are married to their Alpha.”

***

VARUL

Four days ago, enroute to Linewatch

The third raven arrived shortly before dawn.

We’d been riding for days through snow, mountain passes, and forests thick enough to swallow entire armies.

Linewatch was still ahead of us, but not close enough. Not after the horror that had befallen my men at the border.

Every hour and every mile mattered.

Eight dead men mattered. Ty and the men under his command were dead. Men whose children would now grow up without fathers.

Something had slaughtered them. Something large enough to tear through wolves like parchment.

The memory of the wounded scouts still sat heavily in my chest.

Orasmus had done his best that night, but we had lost Wollan. He had saved Bilan’s life, but the shoulder was beyond saving.

And I was wasting time reading messages sent through ravens by pack leaders who suddenly couldn’t function without their Alpha.

Perhaps it had been a wrong move to spread news of the attack to every pack house in the North.

Fear had spread with it. And fear among wolves was dangerous. Fear made men choose sides.

Fear made old grudges awaken.

Fear made ambitious wolves begin asking whether their Alpha had grown weak.

And the gods knew that war was the last thing that the North needed. We had survived enough of it in the past years.

The message conveyed through the ravens was that the council was calling for an emergency assembly.

Council assemblies were not called for disputes over trade routes or wounded pride.

They were called when the North itself stood upon a knife’s edge. They were called for famine, war, or fracture.

And when the council summoned its Alpha, absence was not an option.

Siren prowled restlessly beneath my skin with irritation. And a healthy amount of suspicion.

Someone wants us away from Linewatch, he growled.

Or perhaps I had spent too many years ruling wolves and had learned to see enemies even where there were none.

Neither possibility comforted me.

Siren was agitated. The wolf disliked uncertainty.

So did I.

Every instinct I possessed screamed that we were missing a piece of the puzzle.

The attack was wrong.

The timing of the ravens was wrong.

The sudden urgency from every pack house was wrong.

But I could not tell how the events were connected.

Darren guided his stallion closer, his expression carved from the same stone as the mountains around us. Snow gathered in his beard.

“What do the ravens say?”

“The council is calling a meeting.”

“What is your decision, Alpha?” Darren asked quietly.

Every man riding beside me knew what this choice cost.

They knew me.

They knew I did not leave my dead behind.

If we rode east, the border might yield answers.

If we rode west, perhaps we could keep the North from tearing itself apart.

I closed my eyes briefly.

Leadership was a cruel thing.

A warrior chose enemies.

An Alpha chose disasters.

When I opened my eyes, the decision already tasted like ash.

“Zophyr. Omri.”

Both men urged their horses forward immediately.

“Yes, Alpha?”

“Take fifty riders east to Linewatch. Investigate the attack. Reinforce the garrison. Send ravens at dawn and dusk.” I paused.

“And if you are able to recover our dead, bring them home.”

Overhead, three ravens circled against the pale winter sky. As though even they knew that before winter ended, the North would be tested in ways it had not been for generations.