The Road of No Return

The morning Blackwood prepared to send its Alpha and his bonded to the Council felt like a funeral.

The village stirred, not with routine life but with heavy silence. Warriors polished blades not because they expected to use them, but because their hands needed something, anything, to do. Mothers hushed their pups, warning them not to ask questions. Even the forest seemed to hold its breath, the rustle of leaves subdued beneath the weight of what was coming.

Lena walked through it all, her steps light but her heart heavy. Everywhere she turned, eyes followed her—curious, suspicious, reverent. Some dipped their heads in respect. Others turned away, lips pressed in disapproval. She felt it in her skin, like the press of storm air before lightning.

At the gates, Kade oversaw the final preparations. A small escort of chosen warriors, their armor dark and their expressions grimmer still. Two ravens perched on the post above the arch, black eyes gleaming.

“They’ll watch our steps for the Council,” Kade muttered when Lena’s gaze caught them. “Every wingbeat is a message sent ahead. We walk under their eyes now.”

Lena swallowed the chill crawling down her spine. “Then let them see. Let them see I don’t hide.”

His mouth curved, faint and dangerous, like a blade’s edge catching the sun. He reached up, brushed his knuckles across her jaw. “They’ll see more than that, little wolf. They’ll see fire.”

The farewells began. Garron, the elder who had opposed her, stepped forward first. His face was hard, but when his gaze flicked to her, it softened for just a moment. “Don’t let them bait you. They’ll twist every word you speak, every gesture. The Hall doesn’t deal in truth, only in power.”

“I know,” Lena said quietly. “But I won’t bow, either.”

His eyes narrowed. Then, with a grunt that might have been approval, he stepped back.

Others followed. A young warrior pressed a charm of braided wolf hair into Kade’s hand. “For luck, Alpha.” A mother touched Lena’s sleeve and whispered, “Come back. Make them see us.”

Every word carried weight. Every touch pressed more responsibility into her bones.

By the time the pack had fallen silent again, Lena felt like she carried not just her own fate, but all of theirs.

Kade mounted his black stallion, the beast restless and fierce beneath him. He extended a hand. Lena took it, letting him pull her up to sit before him. His arm banded her waist, grounding, protective.

The gates groaned open.

Blackwood held its breath.

And as the horses moved forward, carrying them into the trees, Lena heard the low rumble of voices rising behind them—not words, not chants, but a single sound.

A growl.

The pack’s growl, carried as one.

A promise of loyalty. A warning to the Council.

And a prayer that their Alpha and his bonded would return.

The forest thickened as they rode, a cathedral of ancient pines. The air grew colder, damp with moss and secrets. Every sound—the crack of a branch, the beat of a raven’s wings—seemed amplified, a warning disguised as nature’s song.

Lena sat against Kade, her back pressed to the heat of his chest. Each inhale brought the scent of smoke and pine, each exhale steadied her nerves. Yet even his presence couldn’t drown out the tension that clawed at her.

“These woods aren’t ours anymore,” she whispered.

“No,” Kade said. “They belong to no pack. Which means they belong to the Council.”

It was strange, riding land that bore no Alpha’s mark. No protective wards, no sense of home. Just emptiness. Neutral ground, though Lena felt nothing neutral about it. The further they went, the heavier it grew, like unseen eyes tracked every hoofbeat.

At midday, they crossed the river that marked the border. Its waters ran dark and fast, fed by mountain ice. A stone bridge spanned it, old as the first packs.

The moment the first horse’s hoof struck the bridge, a howl split the air.

It came from somewhere high, carried on the wind, hollow and resonant. Not Cassian’s. Not any Alpha’s.

Kade stilled, the stallion shifting beneath him. His voice was a low growl against Lena’s ear. “The Council has marked our crossing.”

The warriors tightened their grips on weapons.

Lena clenched her fists in her lap, nails biting her palms. She had thought herself ready. She hadn’t known readiness could feel so much like standing on the edge of a cliff, knowing the ground would fall away and still forcing your feet forward.

On the far side of the bridge, the road widened into a path cut through the wilds. Strange symbols had been carved into trees—spirals, crescents, runes that twisted when she stared too long.

“What do they mean?” she asked.

“Warnings,” Kade muttered. “And reminders. You’re stepping into their domain now.”

By dusk, they reached a stone outpost. A lone figure waited there, cloaked in crimson. His hood concealed most of his face, but the sharp gleam of golden eyes caught the fading light.

The warriors bristled, but Kade’s hand lifted. “Envoy,” he called.

The figure inclined his head. His voice was smooth, carrying too far for the quiet tone he used. “Alpha Kade of Blackwood. And the bonded wolf the Council has requested.” His gaze slid to Lena, piercing. “Welcome. The Hall awaits you.”

No warmth. No pretense of hospitality. Only that cold, measured stare, as if Lena were a specimen pinned to a board.

Her wolf snarled, low and furious in her chest. Lena let the sound rumble in her throat, soft enough only Kade could hear.

“Easy,” he murmured, though his arm tightened around her waist. Not to restrain, but to anchor.

The envoy gestured to the road beyond. “You will follow me. No weapons may be drawn unless sanctioned by the Council. Any violation will be treated as rebellion.”

Kade’s jaw flexed. “Then pray they don’t test me.”

The envoy said nothing. He turned, walking with the unhurried certainty of someone who had never needed to fear a blade at his back.

The escort moved on. The air grew heavier still, thick with the scent of iron and incense. Somewhere ahead, bells tolled. Deep, resonant, ancient.

Lena lifted her chin, spine straight. Fear lived in her bones, yes—but so did fire.

The Hall awaited.

And whatever trials lay within, she would not face them as a shadow of herself.

She would face them as Blackwood.