CHAPTER 1: The Rotting Stone

Earlene

Calculating the exact day a kingdom will collapse is a miserable way to spend a morning, but someone had to do it.

The protective magic in my father’s bloodline was supposed to last for centuries. I gave it three weeks. Four, if the starving feral beasts in the woods decided to take their time.

"You’re doing it again."

I didn't pull my hands away from the freezing warding stone. I recognized the gruff, exhausted voice of the courtyard captain. "Doing what, Marcus?"

"Staring at the rocks like they're going to speak to you," he muttered, his heavy boots stopping right behind me. "You aren't supposed to be out here, Earlene. The King wants the surroundings cleared."

"The stone is dead, Marcus," I said, finally turning to face him. I held up my fingers, showing him the gray, brittle ash that had just rubbed off the monolith. "The rot is eating right through it."

Marcus flinched. He looked around frantically, lowering his voice to a harsh hiss. "Keep your voice down. Do you want to start a panic before the convoy even arrives?"

"I want us to survive," I countered, keeping my tone perfectly even. "Does my father actually know the barrier won't hold another month? Or are his advisors still lying to him?"

Marcus rubbed his jaw, looking ten years older than his actual age. "Your father is preparing to negotiate with the Alpha of the North. He has enough on his mind. He doesn't need you playing scholar out here today."

"You can say it," I offered dryly. "He doesn't need his bastard daughter getting in the way."

"I didn't say that."

"You thought it." I dusted the ash off my dress. "It doesn't matter what you call me. The Alpha won't care about royal titles anyway. If this barrier falls, he'll just let the beasts tear us apart and take the ruins for free."

"Just go inside," Marcus pleaded, the harshness dropping entirely from his voice. He looked genuinely scared. "Please. We're all terrified today. Don't make this harder than it has to be."

"I'm not the one making it hard," I pointed out.

"Captain!" a panicked voice shrieked from the western watchtower. "Open the gates! Open them now! They're here!"

Marcus paled. He drew his iron sword, his hand trembling so badly the metal rattled against his armor. "Get inside," he barked at me, his brief moment of kindness vanishing into sheer survival panic. "Now!"

But I didn't move.

The heavy iron gates groaned open. There were no heralds. No trumpets. Just the terrifying, synchronized sound of a northern army marching into our courtyard in absolute silence.

"Stand at attention!" Marcus roared to the men on the walls, trying to project a courage I knew he didn't possess. "Show them the strength of the South!"

No one had a chance to show anything.

The moment the lead carriage crossed the threshold into the courtyard, the oxygen was sucked entirely out of the air. It felt as if the sky itself had collapsed on top of us.

"Gods," Marcus choked out.

He dropped his sword. His hands flew to his throat. He hit his knees with a sickening thud, gasping desperately for air that was no longer there.

"Marcus!" I took a step toward him, but the crushing weight slammed into my own chest, violently forcing the breath from my lungs.

All around me, the screaming started. It wasn't the sound of a battle; it was the sound of complete, violent submission.

Every single royal guard, every elite werewolf my father had stationed in the courtyard, was dropping to the dirt. They were whimpering, pressing their faces into the mud.

The Alpha hadn't even stepped out of his carriage, and his aura was actively crushing the life out of an entire garrison.

My knees buckled. I hit the rough surface of the warding stone, the jagged edges tearing into my back.

‘Kneel,’ every human instinct in my body screamed. ‘Just kneel.’

"No," I whispered to myself, my voice barely a rasp.

I had spent nineteen years keeping my head down. I had made myself invisible to survive my sisters’ cruelty and my father’s neglect. I refused to grovel in the dirt for a tyrant I had never even met.

I dug my fingers into the crumbling stone behind me. My muscles screamed in agony as I forced my legs to lock.

I pushed myself up, my boots slipping in the mud, dragging my spine against the rock until I was standing upright again.

The pressure intensified like a weight trying to snap me in half. I squeezed my eyes shut and forced a breath through my teeth.

The carriage door creaked open.

"Alpha!" one of the guards sobbed from the ground. "Please!"

A black boot stepped out.

I gripped the stone, kept my chin raised, and stared. Let him try to break me.