Arrow of war

The world narrows to the sound of my son’s body hitting the earth.

“Elarion!” His name tears from my throat as if it can call him back from the brink. My knees collapse beneath me, and I stumble to his side.

Mia is already there, her hands trembling as she reaches for the shaft. Her lips shape words, prayers maybe, but I can’t hear them over the thunder in my ears.

Blood—dark, too dark—pools against the grass. My palms press down, desperate, useless. “No, no, no, stay with me, light. Stay with me.”

Rauth is gone in a flash of muscle and fury, his growl shredding the silence as he dives into the trees. My body jerks as though I can follow him, but I can’t—I won’t leave Elarion’s side.

Mia lifts her gaze, her face as pale as the moon. “We have to move him,” she whispers, voice breaking.

“Not yet.” My words come sharp, as if force alone can stop the bleeding. My vision blurs—tears or panic, I don’t know. “If we move him, it might—”

Her fingers close over mine, firm despite her trembling. “If we don’t, he’ll die here.”

The truth slices colder than the night air.

I nod once, a broken jerk of my chin. Together we lift him—my boy, my light, so small in our arms—and begin the stumbling run back toward the shelters. Every breath feels like it might be his last.

Behind us, the forest screams with distant echoes—Rauth’s rage unleashed. The sound chills me, but it also steels me. Whoever loosed that arrow will not leave these woods alive.

But right now… right now all I can do is hold on to my son and pray his light does not go out.

Elarion is alive. Stable. Breathing.

Relief should be enough, yet my heart quakes with a deeper fear—why was his life in danger at all? Who dared aim for the young Alpha?

The thought claws at me. If anything were to happen to Elarion—my light, my path to self-discovery, the reason I’m still standing—then I cannot go on living.

I press that fear down as the treatment tent’s flap shifts. Rauth’s sentinel bows low.

“My lady.”

“You didn’t go with him?” My voice trembles though I try to keep it subtle.

He straightens, answering with brave simplicity. “No, my lady. My duty is here—at your side. Other sentinels followed him.”

My eyes hold his face. Such loyalty—what more could I ask for? I place my hand on his shoulder in thanks.

“My lady,” he says, voice rough with conviction, “who do you think would dare harm the young Alpha?”

“I don’t know,” I whisper, confusion gnawing at me.

“Think, my lady,” he urges, then sinks to one knee, pressing his hand to the earth in oath. “By blood, by fang, I swear—I will give them their blood for water.”

His vow ripples through me like still waters, yet the words roar in my ears like storm winds. Chaos thrashes in my chest. To silence it, I say softly, “Rise, Lucan.”

For the first time in seven years, I call him by name.

Lucan’s eyes blaze. “To fight is to live.”

Another voice echoes: “I agree.”

Then another: “I agree!”

I lift my head and find myself surrounded by my pack—males and females alike, eyes burning, fangs glinting. Together they chant, rising in unison:

“To fight is to live!”

Their voices thunder like drums.

I stand frozen in awe. I never knew I had gathered this much loyalty in these years. My heart flutters in denial—do I deserve this? Acceptance from the very people my mother once cast out, the man I once loved branded them disloyal, sent away from their roots

Before I can answer, the pack ripples apart , and through the gaps strides Rauth , his sentinels at his back. His face is shadowed, his scent sharp with blood and fury.

I rush into his arms—whether for comfort for him or for myself, I cannot tell. His kiss lands on my forehead, warm yet empty of reassurance, heavy only with uncertainty.”

He pulls back, gripping my hand as though it is all that steadies him.

“We lost them,” he says.

“Them?” My voice cracks.

“Three she-wolves,” he replies grimly.

My breath hitches. She-wolves? Fear coils tighter

“The one I caught killed herself instantly,” he adds, and my eyes widen at the weight of those words. He signals, and a sentinel hands him a pouch. He places it in my palms.

The moment the leather touches my skin, my knees give out. Mia is there instantly, catching me, steadying me.

“Go,” I choke out. “Go back to Elarion. Stay with him.”

She hesitates, but obeys.

All eyes are on me—Rauth, Lucan, the pack—waiting. Wanting to know what shattered me. I look down at the pouch, then up at their faces, trembling.

How do I tell them the truth?

This pouch is no stranger. It belongs to my own blood.

Once betrayed, the heart never prepares for betrayal again. And yet here it is.

My voice breaks as I whisper, “Take me to her. To the body.”

We go. The forest swallows us in silence, but when we arrive—the body is gone.

Gone.

I stand hollow, battered by fear and uncertainty.

“My lady?” Lucan’s voice is careful, but it’s more question than address.

I lift the pouch high, my hand shaking. “This belongs to my sister.”

Gasps ripple through the pack. Their eyes widen. Now they understand why my legs failed me.

Memories slice through me like blades—my sisters and I laughing, running under the same moon, sharing secrets by the riverbank. Each memory turns against me now, carving sour wounds into my heart.

I once believed they might find me, that we could be whole again, living together in peace. But that fragile hope shatters here, under the weight of this cruel truth.

For the first time in years, my tears spill not to be consoled, not to be hidden—but because they are the only thing my battered soul can still release.

Hope has betrayed me. And betrayal, it seems, is my family’s curse.