LOGINWinter’s POV:
I watch Keon’s back as he rages out of the training room, the punching bag a wrecked pile on the floor behind him. His strength was unparalleled. I catch his eyes in the mirror, a dark shade of red. He seems upset. It makes me feel bad somehow. Should I go apologize? What would I even say? “Sorry for hanging out with your brother that I’m mated to even though I have your mark? That reminds me. Back there, Derrick mentioned there being two marks on my back. The day Keon marked me, it was only one mark. After the mating ceremony with Derrick, it became two. It made me confused. Two marks for two wolves? Does that mean I was double-marked or something? Like the way hotels get double-booked? Does that even happen? Has it happened between wolves and witches? How was I even supposed to deal with something like that? I think I need to talk to Keon. Fuck my head hurts. Derrick waves his hand in my face, snapping me out of my thoughts; “Winter? Earth to Winter?” I fake a smile. “I’m here, I’m here” His brows furrow. “I lost you for a second there, Winter” I shake my head. “Sorry, I was just thinking, I’m fine now. What were you saying?” He looks at the window of the room Keon was in. “It’s about my brother, isn’t it?” I don’t answer, avoiding his gaze. I don’t know why I feel bad about all this. He sighs. “I don’t understand his unusual…concern over you, but I’ll make sure he doesn’t bother you Winter.” But what if I want him to bother me? I don’t dare voice my thought. Oblivious, he continues. “I think he wants something from you but I’m yet to figure it out. I-” His eyes gloss for a second, before they turn back to normal. What was that about? He sighs, getting up. “I’m so sorry Winter, but my guard just called my attention to something very important, I have to leave now.” He kisses my cheek swiftly, effectively stunning me. I can’t tell if I hate the fact he’s leaving right in the middle of our hangout or love that he’s leaving so I can go find Keon. I am 100% confused. Regardless, I smile at him, dusting the particles off my dress. “It’s alright Derrick, I’ll see you later?” He nods, walking away. He turns back. “I might not be back for a while, but stay in my quarters and stay away from Keon.” He turns away, leaving me in the gardens. The moment he’s out of my line of sight, I turn away from the main pack-house, following in the direction Keon left. Sorry Derrick, but I need answers and I have a feeling Keon has them. As I walk, some wolves are scattered across different parts of the house. Some ignore me, others whisper among themselves, making me feel awkward. I put on a brave face and continue. I’m not too sure which direction Keon went in, so I guess my way across the house. Which I thought was was working, until I realize I’ve passed by the same portrait three times now. Maybe I didn’t think this through. You see, this pack-house, Derrick told me, is older than me, Keon, and Derrick combined. That’s saying something, since the average witch lifespan is about 150 years, while average werewolves are usually about 90+ years, but Alphas and Royals can live well over a century (if they don’t die in war of course). So this house being older than all of us combined meant it was a historical figure. Technically, it was a relic. It is literally the size of like two mansions, built like a Victorian era castle, houses over a hundred staff and servants, some fifty plus wolves, and the Royals, the Beta from earlier, and the Gamma, who wasn’t at the mating for some reason, but it was her dress I was in when I passed out. Now, maybe I should’ve taken all that into consideration before I started this side quest, because now I’m positive I have no idea where I am or where I’m headed even though I’ve been at this for twenty minutes. I try to use my insight, but it’s supposed to warn me of danger, not act as some GPS or compass that’ll lead me to Keon. Regardless, I push on. I take a left after this really long line of family portraits of the Blackbird family. Even Keon’s father looked scary. His beard touches his chest, his eyes looking like death and evil. I shudder, turning right and walking straight down. On the other side of the hall, I spot a door. It’s metal and heavy, and it takes effort for me to get it open. When I do, the smell of sweat smacks me face first. What the? Up ahead, about 30 wolves are in the room, many are sparring each other, some are in their wolf forms. Others fight with weapons. There’s a tall woman with tan skin yelling out instructions, correcting their forms. When the door slams shut, everyone notices, turning in my direction. I wince. They’re all staring, their eyes scanning me from head to toe. Some irritated, a few looking curious. Most are angry. Someone voices their displeasure; “What’s the hag looking for here?” Many of them laugh, snickering at me. Anger and irritation crawl in my skin. I’m about to throw my own remark when the lady speaks up. Her voice is loud. “Hey, shut the fuck up will ya?! And learn manners while you’re at it too! Who said you could stop by the way? Everyone go down and give me a hundred pushups now!” The laughter cuts short. No one moves. She raises her voice. “Oi! Are you all deaf or what?! I said get down and get to it!” Several people start talking all at once. “Come on Sab you can’t be serious!” “It was a joke teach!” Wait. Like Sabrina? Sabrina the Gamma? The Sabrina? Holy shit. She interrupts their complaints. “That’s none of my business. Maybe next time, you’ll control your bad mouthing. Come on, get to it!” Everyone grumbles, but eventually most people start the punishment. Except one. He’s the one that first started the jokes, his hair is in a mohawk, his chest puffed out in defiance. “I’m not getting punished for saying the truth. That old hag you call “Father” should’ve died. The Alpha should’ve killed him. Then your people would be slaves to us for as long as you may miserably live, as it should be.” His level of hatred makes me stagger backwards. Sabrina’s eyes darken. “Draken-” “No Sabrina. You know I’m right.” He points at me. "Your disgusting species should’ve died during the Blood-Fang. At least-“ “Draken. Don’t you dare finish that sentence.” “At least Nico would still be here.” The tension in the room is so palatable my insight rings out. I blink and Draken is being pinned to the ground, his face eating dirt as Sabrina twists his arm in a position I know hurts like hell. He screams out, and she twists it further, forcing him into silence. “When I say enough. I mean it. When I tell you to shut the fuck up you shut the fuck up like a good dog. And if I damn well tell you to lick my fucking boots you lick it without a fucking thought. Understand?” Unlike before, her voice is deadly calm. “Yes! Yes I understand!” The other wolves watch with fear in their eyes, the former annoyance gone. She holds it for a second, and just when I think she’ll let him go, a loud snap rings out. A total of two seconds pass before Draken screams out, clutching his arm that’s bent in an unnatural position. I wince at the sight. “I think now you truly understand. And stop screaming you pussy, I just dislocated it. Get to Kira so she can heal you.” The whole room is silent as he leaves the room still clutching his arm. He doesn’t give me a second look as he rushes out. She turns to the others. “Well? Did I tell you guys you could stop?” They immediately get to the pushups, the tension still in the air. When she’s satisfied with them, she turns towards me. I take a step back. What? I didn’t want to get my arm bent like a pretzel. She smiles, her eyes already back to normal. “Yeah, sorry about that,” she points at her students. I nod, unsure where this is going. She suddenly grabs me, joining us by the shoulder. I freeze. “Winter, was it? My oh my, do I have questions for you.” My eyes widen. Questions? What questions? About Derrick? Keon? Did someone find out about me and Keon? My mind subconsciously goes to the double crescent on my back. I laugh nervously, “Am I safe?” She laughs, walking us out through the door I came through. She shuts the door, still smiling at me. Something flashes in her eyes. “Let’s just say I’ve heard a lot of things about you Winter.”Keon's POV: The chamber had become so quiet that the steady, low hiss of the burning torches seemed to echo off the vaulted ceiling. Not a single chair scraped against the stone floor. Not a single person shifted their weight. Even the oldest, most battle-hardened wolves in the room knew better than to interrupt Derrick once he reached this point. He stood over the old Delta without crowding him. He didn’t need to. The sheer difference in height and presence alone was enough to pin the man in place. "...Let's start again," Derrick’s voice remained cool, almost conversational, cutting through the heavy air. "Where were you yesterday?" The old Delta swallowed hard, his eyes darting briefly toward the ancient black granite table before locking back onto the prince. "I... I already submitted my official report, Prince Derrick—" "You did," Derrick agreed with a slow nod, his expression entirely unreadable. "And it was false." A sharp muscle jumped beneath the old wolf's jaw, th
Keon's POV: The torch fell back into place with a heavy, metallic thud as the massive oak doors slammed shut behind us. This room, its history ran deep into the very bedrock of our territory. It was a space built on ancient foundations, a chamber designed for a past that our ancestors had tried to bury. Four Clans. One table. Some clans had stood the test of time, adapting and surviving the turning of the ages, while others had vanished completely into ash and memory. Yet, through the rise and fall of regimes, one thing had remained completely constant. The table remained. Carved from a single, gargantuan slab of black granite, its polished surface formed an enormous, intricate compass. North. East. West. South. Time and centuries of heavy use had weathered the edges smooth, but not even the turning of the world had managed to shift its direction. Legend claimed that before the Great Wolf-Witch War, the stone compass had turned freely, spinning on a mystical axis to refl
Keon's POV:Sleep had become a courtesy I occasionally extended to my body. Nothing more.The dawn hadn't yet broken, but the palace was already beginning to stir beneath my window. Guards changed shifts below in practiced, rhythmic silence, their armor clinking softly in the heavy air. Life continued. It always did, entirely indifferent to the wreckage left in its wake.I rested both hands against the cold stone railing of the balcony, leaning my weight forward and letting the rain-soaked wind strike my face. The icy droplets bit into my skin, but it still wasn't enough to drown out her scent.Gods. Even after washing. Even after changing clothes twice. Even after forcing myself to stay on the absolute opposite side of the palace, away from her wing of the castle, she lingered. Not on my skin, where the physical trace could be scrubbed away, but somewhere deep beneath it. The bond pulsed quietly beneath my ribs, simply existing.I closed my eyes, a heavy sigh escaping into the dark
Winter's POV: Neither of us spoke for several minutes. The fire had burned lower in the hearth, leaving the room bathed in soft amber and silver where the moonlight slipped through the curtains. Somewhere outside, rain tapped gently against the stone balcony, a rhythmic, soothing backdrop to the storm that had just settled between us. Sabrina broke the silence first. "...Can I see it?" I looked up, momentarily taken aback by the request. "The mark," she clarified, speaking carefully this time, as if handling something incredibly fragile. "The soulmate mark." For a heartbeat, I simply stared at her. The secret had been hidden under layers of fabric and concealment charms for so long that revealing it felt like exposing a raw nerve. Then, without a word, I nodded. I stood from the chair, suddenly very aware of my own body again. Derrick's oversized shirt hung loosely around my frame, the soft fabric brushing against my thighs as I turned around, turning my back to her. "It isn'
Winter's POV I lowered my eyes, watching the moonlight ripple faintly across the surface of the nearly finished tea in Sabrina’s cup. The pale liquid caught the silver light, trembling slightly with every heavy breath I took. I had never narrated this to anyone other than Mother, and now that it was finally out in the open, the space between us felt entirely rearranged. "I don't think I told you everything," I murmured, my voice barely carrying over the crackle of the hearth. Sabrina had just taken another bite of the berry dessert. She paused mid-chew, her sharp gaze locking onto mine as she slowly swallowed. She set her spoon down with deliberate care, the soft clink against the ceramic sounding remarkably loud in the quiet room. "Considering we've spent the last hour discussing what might become the greatest diplomatic headache of the century," she said, her dry tone laced with a sudden, underlying tension, "that's a rather concerning sentence. What didn't you tell me?" I dr
Winter's POV I pause as a sudden realization chills me. "Did he—" She nods, her expression turning somber. "Keon told me about your second attack. He knew I needed to understand the full scope of the danger we're dealing with if I'm going to help get it out." She takes another bite from the dish tray, chewing thoughtfully before continuing. "As I was saying. The first thing Derrick asked when we arrived was about you. Not the treaty, not the perimeter security, not the casualty report. You. Wonder why?" I tilt my head in confusion, my brows furrowing. I think about what she'd just said earlier, trying to piece the puzzle together, but the logic feels just out of reach. "I don't get it. Why would a scent marker make him drop his guard?" She sighs. "Sometimes I forget you're not a werewolf. In our world Winter, you don't live in a world governed by instincts you can't see, smell or feel. Wolves rule, live by, and establish dominance by their senses, one of which is the sense of
Chapter 63: Winter's POV The room is silent after her last words. If the Eye of The Witcher, the single most important ancient symbol of protection and favor to Witchkind that hasn't been reported to make a single appearance since the Wolf-Witch War, wasn't what scared her, I don't know if I
Winter's POV For a long moment after my mother's words, neither of us speaks. The room is quiet except for the occasional crackle from the fireplace and the distant sounds of the palace beyond the walls. I should be thinking about the relics. Or the attacks. Or the eye from my dreams. In
Winter's POVThe silence after my mother's words feels heavier than anything that came before them."If he is right, Winter... then the attacks against you are not random anymore."The sentence hangs in the air between us long after she finishes speaking.I stare at her.She stares back.For the fi
Keon stands from the chair, waving to me slightly before walking out. Probably to welcome Mother or something. They spend a good five minutes together, discussing in hushed tones.When Keon mindlinks me goodbye, I know it's time to face the music.I'm shaking.Why am I shaking?The door closes qui







