The Council’s Envoy

The scent of horse and steel reached Blackwood before the riders did. It threaded through the pines like a bitter wind, foreign and sharp against the musk of wolf and earth. By the time the first hoofbeats cracked the stillness, the pack was already waiting.

Kade stood at the border with his lieutenants at his back, his body coiled in the kind of stillness that was more dangerous than motion. Lena stood just behind him, her pulse thrumming in her ears, her wolf pacing inside her chest.

The riders emerged from the treeline one by one, their armor glinting in fractured sunlight, their mounts snorting clouds into the cool air. At their head, a banner unfurled in the breeze: crimson silk embroidered with a silver moon and a crown of thorns. The seal of the Council.

Lena had heard stories of the Council’s envoys—men and women who spoke with the authority of all the high packs, who carried judgment in their saddlebags and death in their cloaks. Seeing them now was like watching the myths of her nightmares ride into daylight.

The lead rider was not a wolf but a man in dark robes, his shoulders stiff, his eyes pale and cold as glass. Beside him, wolves in human form flanked the horses, their movements precise, rehearsed.

They stopped just short of the line carved into the earth—the invisible divide that marked the edge of Blackwood’s sovereignty. Hooves pawed the soil but did not cross.

“Alpha Kade Wilder,” the robed man called, his voice carrying like a bell. “By decree of the Council of Moons, I am sent as envoy. You will grant me audience.”

Kade’s jaw flexed, but he did not step forward. He let the silence stretch, heavy as storm clouds, until even the horses stamped uneasily.

When he spoke, his voice was low, lethal. “This is Blackwood soil. You speak when I grant you leave.”

The envoy’s pale eyes flicked, just once, to Lena. Then back to Kade. His lips curved in something that was not quite a smile. “So be it. Grant me leave, Alpha, and I will speak the Council’s will.”

Behind Kade, the pack bristled, restless. Lena felt it—the weight of history pressing down on this moment. The Council did not come for conversation. They came for judgment.

The robed man waited, patient as stone, pale eyes unblinking. His soldiers shifted behind him, but not a one dared cross the invisible line where Blackwood’s soil began.

Kade didn’t move at first. He stood like the mountains themselves, a force unshaken by storm or threat, his golden eyes narrowing. Lena could feel his wolf thrumming just beneath his skin, coiled tight, waiting for provocation.

At last, Kade lifted his hand in a gesture sharp as a blade. The pack parted behind him, leaving a narrow path between the trees. His voice was cold iron.

“You may enter. Alone.”

A murmur rippled through the soldiers, but the envoy raised his hand, silencing them with a twitch of his fingers. He dismounted, the folds of his robe spilling like smoke, and stepped across the line with a confidence that made Lena’s wolf bristle.

He entered their territory without fear, but Lena smelled it anyway—the faint tang of unease beneath the sharp bite of ink and parchment that clung to him.

Two Blackwood guards fell into place behind him, shadows ready to drag him down if he made a single wrong move.

The envoy’s pale gaze swept the clearing, lingering on the wolves poised like coiled springs in the treeline, before settling on Kade.

“Alpha Wilder,” he said, bowing his head just enough to acknowledge, but not enough to respect. “The Council sends its regards on your… victory.”

Kade’s lips curved, but it was not a smile. “Call it what it is. I killed Cassian. On Blackwood soil. Before the moon itself bore witness.”

The envoy’s expression did not change, though the faintest flicker crossed his gaze—irritation, perhaps, or the acknowledgment of truth he could not deny.

“Yes,” he said finally. “Cassian is dead. And with his death, a balance has been broken. The Council convened within hours of hearing word. It was decided that I should come, bearing the weight of their decree.”

He reached into his robes and drew out a scroll sealed with crimson wax. The emblem of the silver moon and thorn crown glinted against the firelight.

Lena’s stomach twisted. She remembered the last scroll—Cassian’s challenge, written in bold arrogance, sealing a death she had seen in her vision. This one carried a different weight: law, judgment, the Council itself.

The envoy cracked the seal and unfurled the parchment with deliberate slowness, as though savoring every word before he spoke it aloud.

“By decree of the Council of Moons,” he intoned, “Blackwood is hereby summoned to answer for the killing of Alpha Cassian Veyne of the Bloodfang. You will present yourself before the Council at the Gathering of Moons within three nights. Failure to appear will be deemed rebellion.”

The words dropped like stones in a pond, rippling outward in silence.

The envoy lowered the scroll but did not yet roll it up. His pale gaze slid toward Lena once more, sharp and invasive. “Furthermore, the Council has received troubling reports. That you, Alpha, have bloodmarked a human. That she bears your bite. That she walks among your wolves.”

Every eye turned toward Lena in that moment. Her cheeks burned, her wolf rising, but she lifted her chin and met the envoy’s stare. If he thought she would cower, he was wrong.

The envoy’s lips curved into a shadow of a smile. “The Council will see her as well. To determine if such an abomination may stand.”

A low growl thundered through the clearing. Kade’s. It reverberated through the ground itself, through Lena’s bones, through the air until even the horses at the treeline skittered and stamped nervously.

Kade took one step forward, towering over the envoy. His voice was soft, dangerous.

“You call her an abomination again, and I will send your body back in pieces.”

The envoy did not flinch, though his throat bobbed once. His smile sharpened instead, cruel and knowing. “Then perhaps it is best you bring her with you to the Gathering. Let the Council decide. If you truly believe your claim is unshakable, what is there to fear?”

The challenge hung between them like a blade.

Lena’s heart hammered, not with fear but with fury. Every word the envoy spoke dripped with poison, meant to reduce her to a scandal, a weapon to use against Kade. And yet, beneath the anger, a cold certainty unfurled inside her: this was not just about her. This was about control. About reminding Blackwood that no matter how many battles they won, the Council still claimed dominion over all.

Kade’s eyes blazed, but his voice came out calm, deliberate. “I will come. With my Luna.”

The envoy’s brows rose at the word—Luna—but he said nothing. Instead, he bowed, shallow and mocking. “Then it is settled. Three nights hence. Do not test the Council’s patience.”

He turned, sweeping back toward the treeline. His soldiers parted for him, eyes darting nervously to the wolves who stood like statues in the shadows. Mounting his horse with one smooth motion, he lifted his hand, and the riders wheeled away.

Hoofbeats thundered into the distance, fading into the trees.

Only when silence returned did the pack exhale as one. Murmurs erupted immediately, some fearful, some furious.

“They’ll never let her stand.”

“They want him broken.”

“The Gathering of Moons—it’s a trap.”

Kade ignored them all. His gaze locked on Lena, and for the first time since the envoy’s arrival, she saw the storm in his eyes—not fear, but fury sharpened into resolve.

“They won’t touch you,” he said, his voice raw iron. “Not while I draw breath.”

Lena’s throat tightened. She should have been afraid, but instead her wolf prowled with restless energy, her heart beating to the rhythm of his promise.

She stepped closer, close enough that the whispers of the pack blurred to nothing. “Then we face them together.”

The firelight caught in Kade’s eyes, and for one breathless moment, the Alpha of Blackwood looked less like a man and more like prophecy.

The Council had called. But Blackwood would answer on its own terms.