LOGINBLURB: I crossed into wolf territory to kill an Alpha,but instead I found my mate. The last thing I expected was for Alpha Kael Riven,the most feared wolf in the North,to look at me like I belonged to him. I hated wolves,he was one of them, and fate didn't care. Now an ancient prophecy is awakening inside me, a forgotten queen's power is stirring beneath my skin, and immortal enemies are hunting me across the kingdom. The mate bond between Kael and me grows stronger every day, pulling us together despite my hatred and his secrets. Every touch feels dangerous,every glance feels forbidden, yet the closer we get the harder it becomes to ignore the connection neither of us asked for. With war looming beneath a Blood Moon and darkness rising from a past buried for centuries, I must decide who I truly am before the prophecy consumes me. The problem is, I still blame wolves for my brother's death, and no prophecy, no goddess, and no mate bond can make me forget that. But fate has a cruel sense of humor, because the Alpha I swore to hate may be the only one capable of saving me.
View MoreThe first problem came with the rain. Not the big storm kind. The steady kind that turned the loop into mud again and made carts sink to their axles. Moonhold’s grain got damp in the storage. Greywatch’s school roof started leaking again. Ironhollow’s forge flooded and the coal got wet. And suddenly the three towns that had been trading so well had nothing to trade but problems. No one blamed anyone. That was new. But everyone was scared, because scared people start looking for someone to blame. And the Sovereign was still an option sitting in a room below. The second problem came two days later. A group from Blackwater showed up at the crossroads. Not to trade. To talk. They had heard about the three towns and wanted to know who was in charge. And when no one answered they got loud. Said this was chaos. Said someone needed to take control before winter came back. They didn’t bring weapons. They brought words. Sharp ones. And words were enough to make people in all
The first joint council wasn’t called a council. No one wanted that word. They called it a meeting at the crossroads, because that’s where the loop met. Halfway between Moonhold and Greywatch, with a road cut off to Ironhollow. It was the twenty-third day of spring. The mud had dried enough to walk without losing boots. And people came because they were curious. Not because they were ordered. Twenty from Moonhold. Eighteen from Greywatch. Fifteen from Ironhollow. Plus kids and dogs and a cart of bread that Astra had insisted on bringing. No table. No chairs. Just stones and logs and a fire that someone kept feeding because the night was still cold. Joren spoke first for Ironhollow. Not as a leader. As the man who had written on the wall. “We need to keep trading,” he said. “But we also need to keep choosing.” And no one argued with that. A woman from Greywatch talked about the school. Said they had too many kids and not enough paper. And Edris said Moonhold had pap
Spring came to the North like an apology. Slow. Muddy. Late. But it came. The snow pulled back in patches, leaving roofs sagging and roads that were more water than ground. And for the first time in months, people in Moonhold and Greywatch and Ironhollow stepped outside without counting how long they could last. No one declared the winter over. They just stopped wearing all their clothes at once. And that was enough. The thaw meant carts could move again. And that meant the first real trade between all three towns. Not tribute. Not aid. Trade. Messy and argued over and honest. Moonhold had wood and extra grain from what Astra had hoarded. Greywatch had salt and wool and people who knew how to fix frozen pipes. Ironhollow had coal and iron and hands that could make tools without asking permission. The first cart left Moonhold on the fifth day. Astra driving it herself with two wolves. It went to Greywatch first, dropped grain, picked up salt. Then pushed on to Ironhol
The first snow came early. Not in flakes. In a weight. It fell for three days over Moonhold and Greywatch and didn’t stop until the roofs were bowing and the roads between them disappeared. People in both towns woke to the same sound: shovels. Not commands. Just neighbors scraping stone, because if you didn’t, your door wouldn’t open tomorrow. Astra had warned them: Store now. Share now. And they did. Badly. And then better. Carts that used to carry grain now carried coal and blankets and kids who were too cold to walk. Kael and his wolves moved between the two towns on foot, ropes tied around their waists so they wouldn’t get lost in the white. They didn’t bring orders. They brought hands. And that was enough. Thea spent most of it in the archive because it was warm. Not because she was hiding. Edris said the records needed copying before the damp got them, so she copied. And her fingers hurt. And that felt honest. In Ironhollow the snow hit different. The forges were






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