Love You After You Died

The great hall dazzled beneath crystal chandeliers, but every sparkle struck Ophelia like gravel. She slipped along the wall with a tray of goblets, head bowed, while nobles in silver-embroidered cloaks swooped past.At the dais, Beta Hawthorne raised his voice. “Witness, Moonfang Pack, the bond between our Alpha and my daughter!”Applause thundered. Ophelia’s fingers twitched around the tray.Caroline descended the marble stairs in a gown of moon-white silk. She caught Dylan’s arm, whispering loud enough for half the room, “Ready to make me yours?”Dylan’s smile gleamed. “Let the moon and the pack bear witness.”Beside the banquet table, maid Maeve hissed, “Ophie, drink?” She nudged a glass toward Ophelia’s pale lips.Ophelia shook her head. “If I taste wine, I’ll spill it.”The reverend elder began the binding rite. Incense curled upward; silver braid wound around Dylan and Caroline’s joined wrists.Ophelia’s vision swam. *That braid should be mine… no, it sho

Gray light seeped through the tent canvas as Rowan peeled back Dylan’s bandage. Beneath the poultice, thick violet lines fanned out from the puncture like roots strangling a tree.Rowan’s jaw tightened. “Poison’s winning.”Dylan tried to sit. Pain drove him flat again. “Status of the outer wall?”“Stable,” Griff answered from the entrance. “Ironclaw hasn’t pressed since dawn. They’re waiting.”“Waiting for what?” Dylan rasped.Before Griff could reply, a trumpet blare rolled over the camp—three steady notes, then silence. Unfamiliar. Ophelia straightened from the basin. “That isn’t our call.”Griff’s eyes narrowed. “Parley.”Caroline swept in, cloak snapping. “Rurik sends an emissary, love. He wants to talk.”Dylan ground his teeth. “I don’t negotiate with raiders.”Rowan pressed him to the cot. “Alpha, you can barely stand. Let the council hear their terms.”Caroline stroked Dylan’s hair. “For me, then. Rest while I speak on your behalf.”His gaze flic

Morning trumpets shattered the kennel’s uneasy hush. Captain Thorn unlocked Cell Nine with a clatter. “Rise, moon-maid. Alpha Rurik calls court.”Ophelia pushed to her feet, straw clinging to her braid. “Court?” she rasped, voice raw from night chill.“Trial of merit.” Thorn clipped a lighter chain to her collar. “Perform well and you’ll sleep indoors. Fail and… well, the cliff trap is quick.”A spark of defiance flickered in her eyes. “Lead on.”---#### The Yard of BladesIronclaw warriors ringed the dirt arena, breath frosting the dawn. Rurik lounged atop a stone dais, helm abandoned for a wolf-pelt mantle. Beside him stood a slender woman in healer’s gray—Sage Ysra, Ophelia later learned—holding a tray of glass vials.Rurik lifted a hand; silence fell. “Moonfang maid, step forward.”Ophelia did, chain trailing.“Today,” Rurik announced, “we measure the worth Dylan was willing to forfeit. Three tasks—mind, hand, and heart. Pass two and you earn this fort’s

The storm eased by dawn, leaving Ironclaw glazed in brittle sunlight. Ophelia woke to Thorn’s muffled call from below the loft.“Moon-maid, up. Alpha summons every able hand for ration haul.”She shuffled aside the shaggy hound and climbed down. In the tack-room shadows Thorn pressed a heel of bread into her hand. “Eat on the walk.”She managed a crooked smile. “Planning to haul me or the rations?”“Both if you faint,” he muttered, then opened the outer door.---#### Ice-Road ConvoyAt the inner gate Rurik directed wagons onto the frozen river road. He spotted Ophelia among the drudges.“You—collar-singer—drive the third sled. We’ll need swift turns at the gorge.”She bowed. “Yes, Alpha.”Carriers lashed crates of dried venison and arrowheads. Ophelia clambered onto the crude wooden runners beside a hulking guard named Varrik, who spat a wad of chew.“Hold the reins, maid. I watch the flank.”Horses snorted clouds. A horn blew; the convoy creaked fo

Gray dawn seeped through the arrow slit, painting the watchtower stones a sickly blue. Ophelia rose from her cot when Ash whined and pawed the door. Outside in the corridor metal boots clanged—two guards, voices hushed.“Morning patrol?” she called.Keys rattled. The door swung open to reveal Caroline in a velvet riding suit, guards at her flanks. Her smile dripped cordial poison.“Good news travels,” she purred. “Welcome home, Ophelia. The pack has missed you.”Ash bared his teeth. A guard lifted a cudgel, but Ophelia laid a calming hand on the dog’s scruff. “Thank you for the greeting, my lady. Does the council summon me?”Caroline’s gaze flicked over the room. “Soon. First—let’s be sure you’re comfortable.” She strolled in, fingertips grazing the dusty shelf, then glanced back at her escorts. “Search every corner. Our guest may have brought… souvenirs.”Ophelia’s pulse quickened. “What do you expect to find?”“Only whatever Rurik slipped into your satchel.” Caro