LOGINThe message was from the eastern border patrol.Three wolves. Discovered at sunrise, two days ago, at the fringe of the territory of the Ironclaw, where the primeval oak wood came in contact with the open land. They hadn't been killed in a fight. Not a single wound which indicated fight, not a trace of wrestling in the soil about. They had merely ceased.That is what the patrol leader had told in his report.Stopped.As though something had got in them and shut down whatever kept them going.I read it twice. Then I gazed up at Rollins on the other side of the war room table.His countenance was quite motionless."They had been dispatched as a message," I said."Yes," he said."Not to warn us away," I said. I laid aside the report. "To demonstrate to us what he is capable of. Whatever killed them got in from outside the border." I paused. "He had wished us to discover them just as they were."Liam was standing at the far end of the table, with his arms crossed, and his jaw set. "It's C
I didn't go to Rollins straight away.I had to venture in first — around the inner yard, past the armory and the stables and the eastern wall where the frost had not yet entirely melted out even though it was now half past the morning. I must have the cold air, and the sound of the things of ordinary. Boots on stone. The scarcely spoken word of warriors who turned off the morning patrol. Someone in the stable breathing animals and creating noise with its mount.Normal, I told myself. Everything is normal.But my hands were not so steady and the object I had touched in that dark silent spot when I had been there at the time I was doing the session was not fading in the way I had said it fades but is sitting. Sinking lower. Seeking solace in this derailing permanence within me.By the time I got to the stairway leading to the upper passage I had formed a resolution.I was not going to tell Rollins of the thing itself. Not yet. Not till I knew what I was saying to him. The previous occas
Marcus had not come back in three days. Rollins had not renegotiated. Five sessions a week were maintained, and yet he had wrung another condition the morning before that a second Ironclaw warrior was there all the time at the training sessions, standing at the entrance door as Liam stood. It told me that Marcus expected it as he had gone along with it. The initial two sessions were straight forward. Breathing work. Flame control. The type of introductory exercises to which I was accustomed to deem the most difficult were those to which Marcus had initially referenced me, meekly and unobtrusively; how I had been keeping the flame at the temperature it could have stripped the palm of a fine wolf. I hadn't noticed. That was the thing, he said. Today was not like in the moment he came. He came in with a leather satchel I hadn't seen before, setting it down at the edge of the yard without opening it. He was in the middle of the training area and gazed at me a long time before utter
Emily's POV It was a long day for Marcus’ first day at Ironclaw. Not like days that are long with nothing going on. Like that days spilled long when there was too much going on under the surface and everybody was lying. At dawn, as expected, he came, and one of the warriors was seated by the outer gate all the day without complaint. Liam followed him at the yard door and kept within easy reach all that lay behind him all the hours that followed, never hovering, but within sight. A mute, deliberate recollection of the terms. Rollins failed to accompany us. This was the case and not the entire truth with him having pack business. I sensed him in the bond all the morning, that depth, that low, strict tension, as a bowstring at full length, and taut. He was managing it. It was always manageable by Rollins. But I had a feeling of every hour of it. The actual training process was very simple. Marcus maintained a cool approach in which his tone was professional and free of any persona
I had heard him before I had seen him.No, his voice, his presence. That airshift which occurs when a dominating wolf moseys into an area that is not his. The energy of the keep was different, how a room is when there is a storm brewing outside the window. Subtle. Unmistakable.I laid aside the cup I had been holding and glanced at the main gate.Marcus rode in on a dark stallion, and two of his men warriors followed him. He was not in fighting attire. No armor, No weapons raised. A deep charcoal riding cloak was over a dark tunic, and so direct and leisurely was his pose as though a man who had been anticipated and knew it.He had not been anticipated.A number of the pack members had ceased whatever they were doing. I could see the interest passing through the courtyard as a current moving across water. Ironclaw was not unaware of his identity. They also were aware of what he had been to me even if most of them were unaware of the whole story.Before Marcus could even get down, Roll
Liam had not been in his quarters.I tapped twice, first with a gentle stroke, and the second with my ear to the cold wood, to hear whether there was any movement within. Nothing. The corridor was bare, the torches still lit from the night before, their illumination pale and thin on the gray of morning streaming through the small windows.I considered going back to the great hall and waiting.I didn't.I descended the back stairwell the kitchen staff used, steadying myself against the rough stone wall in the darkness. These were narrow steps, worn smooth in the middle by years of foot traffic — people who served and cooked, the invisible people who kept the keep going while the rest of the pack slept. I previously did not pay much attention to them.I was paying attention now.As I went down, the odor of bread and woodsmoke became stronger. There was a pot clanging below. Somebody laughed — short and commonplace.This morning everything was ordinary.And that was the hassle.I turned
Marcus’s words lingered long after he walked away. “There are things you don’t understand yet.” What could he possibly know about my powers or my heritage that I didn’t? It gnawed at me as I paced back and forth in the clearing, the cool evening air doing li
Emily’s POV: My breath hitched as Liam’s words sank in. The weight of them felt like a boulder crashing onto my chest. “Everett…” I whispered, my voice trembling. “No…” I had never met him, but Mia had told me enough. Everett had been loyal to Cassandra, a part of her schemes. He wasn’t innocent,
Marcus's POV The moment Emily’s power surged through me, I expected agony. But instead, the pain that had once gripped my body began to fade. My wounds, which had seemed so severe, were closing, the skin knitting itself back together as though the injury had never existed. I could feel it her power,
As I stood there, catching my breath, the reality of what had just happened hit me. The pack was under attack, and Cassandra had betrayed us. I needed to find Rollins and warn him about Cassandra. I shifted back into my human form, not caring about the blood or the scratches that marred my skin. Ri







