Shadows at the Gate

The blood had barely dried when the message reached every corner of Blackwood Keep. Ronan’s shadow emissary hadn’t spoken a single word—hadn’t needed to. The corpse left at the borders said everything. It had been a scout from their own ranks, ripped open and carved with a single word burned into the flesh: MINE.

The pack was restless. The air inside the keep throbbed with unease, growls echoing through the stone halls like a low thunder that never broke. The scent of iron clung to every breath, seeping into the marrow of the walls, into the marrow of me.

I walked behind Kade through the long corridor that led to the war chamber. His stride was a storm, heavy, lethal, every movement filled with a coiled violence that made the wolves who passed us press themselves against the stone, heads bowed, ears flattened. Even in silence, his fury was enough to choke the air.

They looked at him, then at me. Their eyes didn’t linger on my face but dropped to the place where his bite burned in my skin beneath the collar of my shirt. They smelled it—ownership, bond, danger. Some looked away with unease. Others with disgust. And a few with hunger, like jackals waiting for scraps.

I kept my chin up, but inside, every step felt like walking into quicksand. My skin prickled, not from shame, but from the awareness that I was not just me anymore. I was marked. I was claimed. And in their eyes, that made me both sacred and cursed.

The war chamber opened like a wound in the keep, its wide doors groaning as the guards pulled them aside. Inside, the Blackwood council waited, gathered in a circle of stone thrones that gleamed under torchlight.

Elder Draven, oldest of them all, sat forward, his white hair falling like silk over his shoulders, his eyes sharper than the blade strapped to his side. His voice was sandpaper when he spoke.

“You bring her here,” he said, gaze cutting to me like a knife. “After this.”

Kade’s shoulders shifted, broad and unyielding as he placed his body just ahead of mine, the smallest tilt of his frame enough to remind them all that I was his.

“She belongs here,” he growled.

“She does not belong anywhere in this pack,” snapped Elder Corra, her thin lips curling, her golden eyes alight with contempt. “She’s human. She’s weakness. And she will be the death of us all if Ronan gets his way.”

Whispers broke through the chamber like brittle twigs snapping underfoot. Human. Weakness. Death.

The words bit into me harder than I wanted to admit, and yet—I didn’t flinch. I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.

Kade’s voice thundered over theirs, low and dangerous. “Say it again.”

The room froze. His dominance rolled through the chamber like a surge of lightning, making even the elders bow their heads for a breath. The wolves lining the walls lowered their gazes, their throats rumbling with instinctive submission.

But Elder Draven did not bow. His ancient eyes stayed locked on me, unblinking. “What has she done to earn her place among us?”

The silence that followed was heavy. I could feel every stare pressing into my skin, demanding an answer I didn’t know how to give. My mouth opened—then closed. What had I done, truly? Survived. Been claimed. Nothing more.

Kade moved for me, but I touched his arm. My fingers brushed the heat of his skin through his shirt, and he stilled. The room noticed.

“I didn’t ask for this,” I said, voice steadier than I felt. “But I won’t apologize for surviving.”

A ripple of sound broke through the wolves, half growls, half whispers. Elder Corra laughed, brittle and sharp. “Surviving? You think survival is enough to stand here? You think survival is strength? This is not a fairy tale, girl. This is war.”

Her words stung, but Kade’s hand closed around mine, rough and grounding. His presence was a fire at my back, silent but unrelenting.

Elder Draven leaned back, fingers steepled. “Perhaps we should test this bond.”

The words fell into the room like a blade into flesh. Kade’s growl ripped free before the others even reacted, a sound so deep and savage the torches flickered against the walls.

“You will not touch her.”

But Draven smiled, slow and cold. “Not touch. Test. If she is truly bound to you, if the bloodmark is real, then she should withstand what is required of an Alpha’s mate. If not…” His gaze flicked to me, sharp as claws. “…then she will break. And when she does, we will know exactly what kind of weakness you have brought into our walls.”

My pulse thundered in my throat. Every instinct screamed to protest, to fight, to run.

But when I looked at Kade, I saw something in his golden eyes I had never seen before. Fear. Not for himself. For me.

And in that moment, something inside me shifted.

I didn’t want him to fear for me. Not if I was to stand beside him.

“Then test me,” I said.

The chamber erupted.

The uproar swallowed the chamber whole. Growls and shouts clashed, the torches snapping in their sconces as if the very walls felt the weight of the decision.

“She’s bait!” one wolf barked from the shadows.

“She’ll crumble before the bond even seals,” another snarled.

“Better she break now than in Ronan’s claws,” Elder Corra hissed.

But my words still hung in the air, sharp and unyielding. Test me.

Kade’s grip tightened on my hand, his claws pricking the edge of my skin as if his beast strained just beneath the surface. “No.” The word was a snarl, final, meant to end the discussion. “You will not lay your hands on her. She does not answer to you.”

Elder Draven’s smile was slow, cruel. “Then she answers to no one. And a mate who answers to no one is nothing more than prey.”

Kade lunged a step forward, but I moved before he could, tugging at his arm, forcing his golden eyes down to mine. His fury was wildfire, searing, enough to consume the whole chamber. But when I looked up at him, my voice was soft, steady, only for him.

“Let me,” I whispered.

His chest rose and fell like a storm barely leashed. His jaw clenched so hard I thought his teeth might shatter. “Lena—”

“I’m not afraid.” My lie burned on my tongue, but I didn’t flinch. “If I can’t stand here, if I can’t stand beside you, then I don’t deserve this mark.”

His nostrils flared, his gaze searching mine as if he could find another way out. But there wasn’t one. Not here. Not with the eyes of the entire council watching, waiting for weakness.

Finally, with a sound that was half snarl, half surrender, Kade let go of my hand.

The air shifted immediately. Draven gestured, and two guards stepped forward, their presence thick with dominance. They didn’t touch me—didn’t dare—but they flanked me, leading me out of the war chamber into the courtyard beyond.

Night had fallen. The sky above was ink black, a thousand stars scattered like silver across its face. The courtyard smelled of damp earth and smoke, its stone circle etched with runes that glowed faintly under torchlight. This wasn’t just any ground. It was sacred. A place of trial.

Wolves began to gather along the perimeter, their eyes gleaming in the dark, their whispers rising like a tide. Human. Weak. Break her. End her.

I stepped into the circle. My legs trembled, but I kept my chin high. If they wanted fear, they would choke on silence instead.

Draven’s voice carried through the courtyard. “The test is simple. The bond is fire and blood. If she can withstand the pull of the Alpha’s will, she will endure. If she cannot…” He paused, letting the silence stretch, savoring it. “…she will break. And the mark will mean nothing.”

My throat tightened. The Alpha’s will. I didn’t know what that meant. But when Kade stepped into the circle across from me, his golden eyes locked to mine, I understood.

This wasn’t a trial against the council. This was a trial against him. Against the bond. Against the very thing that tethered us together.

The torches flared. The runes pulsed brighter.

“Begin,” Draven said.

The world tilted. Heat surged through my veins, molten and violent, as Kade’s power slammed into me like a tidal wave. His dominance wasn’t just weight—it was suffocation, fire pressing against my skin, against my chest, against my bones. My knees buckled instantly, slamming into the stone.

The bond writhed inside me, a rope pulled taut, dragging me down, demanding submission. My lungs seized. My heart clawed against my ribs. The fire burned hotter, hotter, until my vision blurred.

Submit.

The word wasn’t spoken, but I felt it inside my skull, inside my blood. His will. His command. Mine.

“No,” I rasped, teeth gritted, nails digging into the stone.

Kade’s jaw clenched across from me, sweat glistening on his temples. His beast prowled beneath his skin, visible in the ripple of his muscles, the flare of his nostrils, the gold in his eyes that burned brighter with every second. He was holding back—barely.

Submit. The word thundered again, sharper this time, tearing through me like claws.

I screamed, my body arching as if the bond itself wanted to split me in half. The crowd roared, some in triumph, some in bloodlust.

But through the haze, I saw him. Kade. His gaze locked to mine, not cruel, not cold, but… desperate. He wanted me to fight. He wanted me to stand.

So I did.

With every ounce of strength, I shoved back. Against the fire. Against the bond. Against the weight of him pressing me into the stone. My body trembled, blood trickling from my nose, my mouth, but I forced the word past my lips again.

“No.”

The bond roared. The circle exploded with light. Wolves staggered back, some crying out as the force rippled through the courtyard. And when the blaze dimmed, I was still on my knees—broken, trembling, bloody—but unyielding.

Silence fell.

Draven leaned forward, his eyes wide for the first time. Corra’s mouth opened, then closed. The crowd, hundreds of wolves strong, stared at me with something I had not yet seen in their eyes. Not contempt. Not hunger.

Respect.

Kade crossed the circle in a blur, his hands searing as they gripped my face, tilting me up to meet his eyes. His chest heaved, his expression raw, untamed, like a storm ripped open.

“You,” he growled, his voice shaking, “are mine. And if any of you—” He turned, his roar crashing over the courtyard like thunder, making wolves flinch back, bow their heads, bare their throats. “—try to take her from me, I will tear this pack apart bone by bone.”

The declaration rang like iron. Final. Irrevocable.

And then, as if the night itself wanted to prove him right, a howl split the darkness beyond the gates.

Not one. Dozens.

The crowd stiffened, ears pricking, bodies tensing. The gates shuddered as shadows moved just beyond torchlight—eyes glowing red, teeth flashing in the dark.

Ronan’s wolves.

The first attack had come.