LOGINThe war council gathered within the hour, the long table filled faster than I’d ever seen it, tension thick enough to feel before anyone spoke a word.“A supply line struck less than a day’s ride from our border,” Asher said, opening the session without preamble. “I want opinions before I decide anything.”An older elder spoke first, arms crossed. “Neutrality. That’s my opinion, plainly. This is an Ashguard civil conflict. It is not ours to bleed for.”“With respect,” another elder cut in, “neutrality assumes the fighting stays contained to their borders. Nothing about tonight suggests it will.”“It’s stayed contained so far.”“So far it isn't a strategy. It’s luck, and luck runs out.”“Luck or not, we don’t have the numbers to fight two fronts if this spreads. Better to stay clear entirely than get pulled into something we can’t finish.”“Staying clear entirely assumes we get a say in whether we’re pulled in. History rarely offers that courtesy.”A younger council member leaned forwa
I sat alone in the quiet of my room, the weight of that empty holding room still pressing against my chest hours later.A soft knock interrupted the silence.“It’s me,” Asher said through the door.“Come in.”He stepped inside, none of his usual easy confidence in the way he moved tonight, no careful posture, no practiced steadiness. Just him, tired and worn the same way I felt.“I couldn’t sleep either,” he said.“Neither could I.”“Mind if I sit?”“Please.”He sat down across from me, close enough that our knees nearly touched, closer than either of us usually allowed the space between strategy and something else to get.“I need to tell you something,” he said. “And I need you to just let me say it without turning it into a plan.”“Okay.”“I’m not good at this part. Fair warning.”“Neither am I. We can be bad at it together.”“I was afraid tonight. Genuinely afraid. Not for Kade pack’s standing, not for how it would look if something happened on my territory. For you. Specifically y
The candle between us had burned low by the time Callum spread the last of the requisition logs across the table.“Here,” he said, tapping one entry. “This one’s the strangest. Weapons, medical supplies, and rations, all routed toward a location listed only as Site Seven. No designation on any official map.”“Site Seven. That means nothing to me.”“It means nothing to anyone. I checked every registry I have access to. It doesn’t correspond to any known rebellion hotspot, any border post, any garrison.”“Could it be a code name for somewhere that already has a real designation.”“I considered that. If it is, it’s a code I don’t have access to, and I have access to most of them.”“So it’s somewhere she doesn’t want documented.”“That’s my read on it too.”I leaned over the log, tracing the delivery dates with my finger. “These shipments started before the border battle. Before Briar even left for Kade territory.”“Weeks before.”“So whatever this is, it’s not a reaction to the rebellion
The council chamber went silent the moment I hit the floor.“My Prince.”Hands reached for me from every direction, elders and Betas alike abandoning formal distance the second my knees buckled beneath me.“My Prince, can you hear me?”“Give him space to breathe.”I gripped the edge of the council table, chest seizing worse than it ever had, worse than the training field, worse than the announcement ceremony.“Someone get him water,” a voice called out.“Get a healer,” another corrected. “Now.”“Is he breathing properly?”“Barely. Someone check his pulse.”I couldn’t answer any of them, the pain too consuming to allow words, my vision narrowing at the edges while the entire council watched their future King collapse in the middle of a formal session.“This is the third time,” an elder said, not bothering to lower his voice. “The third time in as many weeks.”“He’s exhausted from the border conflict,” someone offered.“Exhaustion doesn’t drop a wolf to the floor mid session. This is so
My hands shook unfolding it, the first time all night my body had let the fear show instead of burying it under motion.The handwriting was Ysolde’s. I recognized it immediately from the oath recitation, tight and precise, every letter controlled the way everything about her seemed controlled.“What does it say,” Asher asked, close beside me now.I read it aloud, my voice flatter than I felt.“Your family was moved again three hours ago. You will not find them tonight, tomorrow, or any night soon after, unless I decide you should. Consider this a demonstration. I can move anything you care about beyond your reach, whenever I choose, however quietly I choose to do it. Tonight was a lesson, not a punishment. The next one may not be so gentle.”Silence dropped over the bare room.“A lesson,” I repeated, disbelief and fury tangling together in my chest. “She calls this a lesson.”“She’s telling you she can always reach further than you can,” Asher said quietly. “That’s not a threat about
“Someone above her,” I repeated, certain I’d misheard. “Ysolde is the Queen. There’s nobody above her.”“That’s what I would have said too, a month ago,” Elara said, already turned back toward her horse.“Then explain it. Properly, before you go.”“I can’t explain what I don’t understand myself. I only know the pattern. Decisions that trace back further than her own authority should reach. Orders she follows without question, the way nobody follows anyone unless they truly have to.”“You’ve seen this pattern yourself.”“Fragments of it. Enough to know it’s real. Not enough to hand you a name.”“Give me one example. Anything concrete.”“A shipment redirected without her sign off, reversed within the hour once someone else weighed in. A meeting she left mid sentence because a message arrived. Small things. Enough small things add up to a pattern eventually.”Asher’s jaw was tight, calculating. “This changes the shape of tonight.”“It doesn’t change the timeline,” I said. “Whoever’s abov







