Mag-log inTayaThe paper was good. Thick, pale and expensive, the kind of stock you use when you want the man on the other end to know what you can afford. Nothing like the scratch paper my father kept in the top drawer for household accounts.I didn't recognize the hand at all. It was nothing like my father's cramped, angry scrawl, but upright and even with every letter finished, the writing of a man who had never once been in a hurry when he sat down to write.I read to the bottom of the first page before I found out who he was.Vidar Sarn.Uncle Vidar. My father's brother.I sat back. I couldn't remember the last time anyone had said that name out loud in this house. There was a summer when I was small and a man's hand had come down toward me, and a laugh I couldn't put a face to anymore, and then nothing after that. He'd gone out of our lives at some point and nobody had ever explained it, and I'd stopped asking somewhere around the age I stopped asking my father for anything.There were ne
TayaMy ears still rang as I stumbled into the house. The bitter chill stung my face, but it couldn't drown out Rurik's voice echoing in my head."Get out of my house, Taya," he snarled, blood flecking his teeth. His hand pressed to the gash on his temple, courtesy of my boot. I stood there in the center of the shattered table, mouth dry and useless."Sorry," I mumbled. A pathetic word. A stupid word. What did 'sorry' even mean to a broken skull? To a broken table? To broken everything?I blinked down at my hand. My fingers clenched around the hilt of my knife, the cold handle seeping into my palm. When had I grabbed this?"Damn it."I shoved the knife into my belt and stomped upstairs.I was finally home. My own house, then. My own room, my own bed, my own everything, and tomorrow morning I would go down into that ring and settle the only thing left that was actually mine to settle.Except the door was locked.I kicked at it, jarring my shoulder with the force of it, and cursed loudl
Taya"The friendly duel is over. My father is talking to her. It's done.""You have no right—""I have every right. You're my guest. You're my friend. And you're about to do something irreversible because you can't let go of a grudge against someone you cannot hurt." He held up a hand. "I'm not arguing this with you, Taya. No duel. That's where this ends."He swallowed. Still looking at me. Waiting for me to fight him on it.I didn't say anything.He shook his head in disgust and turned for the door.I don't know what happened in the space between him turning and me moving. I wasn't thinking. I wasn't deciding.Two steps and I was inside his reach, my weight already shifting into it. I could feel the leather of my boot against my leg as I raised my foot, the pull of tendon in my calf.His shoulder was just starting to turn. He was still looking at the door, half-turned, half-facing away. His face was still smooth, still oblivious, eyes cast toward the open hall beyond it. He never got
TayaThe knife needed sharpening. It wasn't dull exactly, just not what it should be for tomorrow, and I had the whetstone and the time and nowhere else to put my hands, so I sat at Rurik's table working the edge and not thinking about anything in particular.I heard him before I saw him. He had a particular way of coming into a room when he was pleased with himself, slow, like he was giving you time to notice him. Usually it annoyed me. Today it made me put the knife down."What," I said.Rurik leaned in the doorframe with his arms folded, smiling at me. "Good news."I waited."I talked to my father," he said. "Vane's going to speak to the Luna. Have the whole thing called off."I looked at him.He looked back at me, smile still in place, waiting for the gratitude.I said, "Who asked you to do that."The smile shifted. Not gone, but uncertain. "Taya—""Who asked you, Rurik."He pushed off the doorframe and came into the room properly. Sighed. Ran a hand through his hair. "Someone had
HavardFor one bad moment, standing there, I laughed at the thought. Not because any of it was funny. Because some part of me had already done the math on how badly this could go, and laughing was the only thing keeping it from becoming a thought I'd have to sit with any longer than I could afford to. I wheeled it back. A man my age doesn't get to indulge despair, not with a war coming; my own grandchildren will have to finish if he doesn't live long enough to.So. The North will come back together, whatever it costs, and I intend to be the hand that does it. Not for the North's sake alone, though I'll tell myself that version when it's convenient. For the plainer, less flattering fact that a divided North loses the war that's already started, and I have buried enough Alphas to know I'd rather be remembered as the one who forced us back into a single fist than as one more good man who watched us stay scattered until it stopped mattering who was right. And past the North, once it's
HalvardViktor had been a good Alpha in the end, whatever his last mistakes. He'd made every pack in the North stronger by being in it. It took losing him to understand that, and by the time we understood it, Vidar had gone quiet, and the whole thing was over.Everything held, more or less, until word came that Dimitri had died too, killed on the ridge south of here. The men who rode with him came back too broken to say much of anything about what they'd seen. And with no one else standing in line for it, the Butcher became Alpha because there was no one else. I do not blame the boy for any of that. He lost a father and a brother inside two years with nothing in between to prepare him for either. But losing my sympathy for his circumstance was never the same as losing my worry about what an unhandled Butcher means for the rest of us, and I had already decided, before he ever rode through my gate, that I was going to find some way to put a hand back on that weapon whether he liked it
SeraNight fell fast, and with it, the temperature plummeted. We had three fires going, but the heat didn't seem to travel more than six inches past the flames. I sat on a log by the middle fire, pulling the wagon fur around my shoulders, shivering so hard my teeth were literally clicking together.
LyraShe ignored me. She dropped to her knees, her hands sliding down to the waistband of my trousers. She shoved her fingers inside the fabric, gripping my hips tight. With one sharp pull, she dragged the pants and my underwear down to my ankles. I stepped out of them, kicking my boots off in the
Lyra"Tell the girl to step into the room," he said."Leave her out of this," I said. My voice came out as a pathetic, raspy whisper. I cleared my throat, trying to find some spine. "She didn't do anything. It was my idea to come in here.""Tell her to step into the room," he said, his eyes going d
LyraThe voice didn't belong to Nadia. It didn't belong to me. It came from the metallic object resting directly behind my hip.Nadia froze. She pulled her mouth away from me and yanked her fingers out of my body. She stood up quickly, wiping her wet mouth with the back of her hand, her chest heavi







