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25: Seeds for a Secret
publish date:
2026-11-10 23:00:08
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Reborn at the Last Howl 25: Seeds for a Secret
CRYSSARAI can no longer afford to ignore Vaelor.Dorian is already sitting at his table somewhere plotting, and if Vaelor chooses the wrong side, the Hold loses more than salt. It loses the last chance at fresh seed before the real cold seals the roads shut for good.Caelus and I ride to the trading post at first light. The air bites harder than it did a week ago, sharp enough to draw blood if I breathe too deep.Vaelor is waiting inside, boots on the table again, silver-black hair catching the lamplight, his cold blue-grey eyes fixed on me like a predator that has already chosen which artery to open first. He smiles the way a cat smiles when it has decided to toy with its food before the kill—unhurried, savoring, already certain of the ending."Keeper. Commander. Back so soon." His gaze slides over me, insolent, stripping something away with every pass, lingering just long enough to remind me he can. "And looking for seeds this time, I hear."I set a folded map on the table, my move
Reborn at the Last Howl 24: Brannock Falls
CRYSSARA"Say nothing until we know who," I tell Caelus.He wipes water from his hands and nods once, his jaw clenched so tight the muscle twitches beneath his skin. The planting room still reeks of wet earth and steam. Seeds float in the shallow flood, torn from the soil that should have cradled them, drowned before they ever had a chance to root.We find Brannock in the lower corridor, checking the same pipe line. His boots are soaked through."The valve was turned by hand." Caelus's voice cuts flat as a blade, each word deliberate, each one a small accusation sharpened to a point. "You were the last one down here."Brannock straightens slowly, his face hardening into something unreadable, something dangerous, something that dares Caelus to say more."It was an accident." He spits the words like they taste foul in his mouth. "I was testing the pressure. The handle slipped."Neither Caelus nor I believe him. The accusation hangs thick in the damp air, charged like the moment before l
Reborn at the Last Howl 23: Warm Rooms Underground
CRYSSARA I decide to throw myself into work so I stop thinking about Maren's last words.*She did not die the way they told you.* The sentence sits in my head like a stone. I shove it down and head for the cellars.My mother's pipe plans lie spread across the table, lines and numbers drawn in her careful hand. I trace them with my finger. Warm spring water can be sent beneath the cellar floors—heat without fire, rooms that stay above freezing even when the world outside turns to ice.Granny Tilda finds me there before the sun fully rises."What are you doing with those pipes, girl?" she demands, arms crossed, her voice already sharp enough to cut."Turning the deep rooms into growing rooms," I say, refusing to flinch under her glare. "We plant under the stone."She studies the plans, jaw tight, suspicion etched into every line of her face, as though I'd proposed something treasonous rather than practical. Finally, she nods once, grudging—the gesture of someone conceding a point she
Reborn at the Last Howl 22: She Did Not Die the Way They Told You
CRYSSARA I push the kitchen door open.Lantern light sits low on the stone walls. The air smells of leftover stew and cold water. Maren stands in the center of the room—calm, old, her hard stare fixed and unblinking. She grips the small pup's hand like she owns the right to it, her knuckles pale with the force of her hold. Three steps away, Lyanna has gone rigid, her face drained of color, one hand clamped white-knuckled on the table's edge, the other pressed flat against her stomach as if to hold something in.No one speaks.Only the slow drip from a pipe breaks the silence, that and the pup's quick, shallow breaths, and beneath it all, the faint creak of Lyanna's grip tightening on the wood.Maren's gaze locks onto mine, and something flickers there—satisfaction, maybe, at having caught me off guard. Her voice stays level, quiet—the same voice that once taught Lyanna how to wrap a wound, now edged with something colder, something that scrapes."I came to bring Lyanna home."I stop
Reborn at the Last Howl 21: Maren's Debt
LYANNA I stand in the kitchen that night.The scout's words still ring in my head, louder with each passing minute. *Someone who works in the kitchen.* Seraphina heard it from here. The accusation claws at my chest, and I can't tear it free.My hands shake as I put away the clean cloths. A spare bandage sits in every pocket I own—habit, drilled into me by Healer Maren. "Always be ready. The moment you hesitate is the moment someone dies," she used to say, her voice sharp as a blade, and I obeyed without question, the way I always did.Healer Maren took me in after the orphanage. She fed me when no one else would. She taught me medicine—how to set a bone, how to break a fever—and in return, she bought my silence one debt payment at a time. Month after month, the chain tightens around me, link by invisible link. I can almost feel it now, cold against my wrist, biting deeper than it ever has.She asked me to send reports about Cryssara, claiming it was for the pack's safety, though even
Reborn at the Last Howl 20: Wolves in Ashfang colour
CRYSSARA "Who sent them?"Caelus folds the map"We find out tonight."We climb the ridge at dusk. Snow falls thin and quiet. Our breath shows white. The trees stand black against the last light.Caelus points to a low hollow, his voice clipped with urgency."Here. Simple trap. Rope under the snow. When they step, it holds the ankle."I help set it, my hands steady despite the biting cold. We wait in the trees, breaths shallow, nerves stretched to breaking. No one speaks.Two shapes move along the ridge path. Ashfang colors mark their coats. One stands tall, broad-shouldered. The other looks smaller, barely older than a pup.They step into the hollow. The rope snaps tight. Both crash down hard, snow exploding around them.We move fast. Caelus slams the taller one against the ground, pinning him with a knee to the chest, teeth bared like he's one word away from tearing out a throat. I grab the younger one by the collar and yank him upright, my grip rougher than it needs to be.The tall
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