Mag-log inHi lovely readers! Glad to have you here. I hope you enjoy this story!
Author’s POV "What are you doing just evading attacks?!" Gamma Willow barked out loud, his sharp voice cutting through the trees. "Defend, but also attack!"The older male rolled his thick neck, reaching behind his back to pull out his legendary broadsword—a blade that had defended the borders of the Sunset pack for decades. It had drunk the blood of hundreds of enemies, and it was about to drink a whole lot more today.Gamma Willow stabbed downward with brutal precision, burying the steel through the rogue who was dizzyingly trying to stand back up. He pulled the blade out in one smooth motion, slick with dark blood.Dalton decided to stop spectating and focus on his own survival, trying to take a quick head count of how many rogues were bursting out from the trees. By the time he counted ten, he gave up trying to keep track. This was life and death now.He had no idea why a horde of rogues would be after them. It wasn't as if they were carrying any valuable cargo or gold.Four rogu
Author's POV Gamma Willow and his first-born pup rode side by side down the narrowing mountain path. It was late evening, and the sky was darkening into a cold, heavy grey.Dalton turned in his saddle, eyeing his father with a furrowed brow. "I still don't understand why you are fine with leaving Elsie at the camp."Gamma Willow kept his eyes on the trail ahead, holding the reins loosely. "You saw with your own eyes what great things she did back there. Just let her be, Dalton.""So what will you tell mother when we get back?" Dalton pressed, his voice laced with frustration. "You promised her that you would bring Elsie back home with us."Gamma Willow looked faintly disturbed for a split second, a slight grimace touching his lips, but then he simply shrugged. "She will learn to live with it."Dalton shook his head, still in shock at how unexpectedly things had turned out back at the Iron Hold. Especially with that rat, Oliver. Dalton was fully determined to tell Oliver's father—the
Elsie’s POV He stopped beneath the low branches of his favorite ancient tree, and I came to a halt a good distance away, still refusing to look in his direction.He waited in silence for a moment before saying tonelessly, "Come here."I reluctantly dragged my feet closer, though I still made sure to leave a generous amount of space between us."Closer," he said testily.I narrowed my eyes at him and took another petty half-step forward. Before I could take another, he lost his patience. Reaching out, he grabbed the front of my sweater and forcefully pulled me forward until I was standing barely two feet in front of him.I peered up into the shadow of his hood. Seeing my movement, he reached up and pushed the dark fabric back, letting it fall onto his shoulders. I sucked in a quiet breath, blown away all over again by just how ridiculously good-looking he was. Whatever.I cleared my throat, forcing a neutral tone. "Yes, Your Majesty? You asked me to follow you.""That is not what you
Elsie’s POV I almost lost sleep over the fact that I had yet to receive any response to my note. Well, I wasn't exactly expecting one from the King, but it still would have been nice to receive something—anything to let me know he didn't think I was a total fool. It also kept crossing my mind that I had to wake up an hour earlier tomorrow, though I had no idea how I was supposed to track time without a clock. My question was answered when a low voice calling my name roused me from my fitful sleep. It was Commander Hunter again. I groggily sat up on my cot, adjusting my tunic and checking that my clothes were properly in place before shuffling over to the tent entrance. I pushed open the canvas flap. Commander Hunter looked down at me, his expression as unreadable as ever. "It's time. Go to the clearing right beside the Iron Fort. That is where your training is taking place." "Yes, sir," I replied, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Commander Hunter gave a single nod and left, pres
Quinn's POV "Enter," I responded.Hunter stepped inside. I continued writing vigorously on the parchment, waiting for him to state his business. But Hunter just stood there in silence for several long seconds.I paused my quill and looked up. Hunter was standing near the desk, holding a small, folded piece of paper that looked distinctly like a letter.I held out my hand to receive it, my brow furrowing. "Which pack is this message from?"Hunter stepped back slightly, making a weird, uncharacteristic face.I curled my lips in annoyance, taking the letter and unfolding it. I received a healthy dose of shock the second my eyes landed on the very first line.‘Dear Quinn,’Someone had used my given name. There were not many people who could."It's from Elsie," Hunter said, breaking the silence. "She gave it to me outside her tent just now. Goodnight, Your Majesty."Without waiting for a response, Hunter turned and immediately left the tent.Elsie?? What in the Goddess's name was she up t
Quinn's POV I was currently drafting my fifth battle strategy. My father had always told me to prepare at least eight separate contingency plans before marching into a full-scale war. I had no idea why he was always so fixated on that specific number, but I had never really questioned him. He was the late King, after all.He had at least made sure I understood the underlying purpose behind it which was that having multiple strategies ensured a leader was never left completely lost, stranded, or paralyzed if things went awry on the field. It provided clear, immediate alternatives the moment a primary plan failed. Adaptability was one of the very first lessons he had drilled into me.Make use of everything at your disposal.Many years ago, my father had taken me deep into the middle of a thick, uncharted forest. He blindfolded me, tied my hands to a massive tree, and somehow managed to mask all human and wolf scents in the surrounding area.His instructions were simple: survive and fin
Elsie's POV As if the news from last night wasn’t enough to rot my soul, the next morning brought a fresh disaster. Oliver showed up at our front door, acting like the most dutiful son-in-law in the world.I watched him from the shadows of the hallway. He was dressed in a clean, pressed shirt, his
Elsie's POVA hand with wicked-looking claws sliced through the air toward me. I felt the rush of wind against my skin and only ducked at the last second. I could have moved sooner, but I loved the thrill of the danger. It made my blood hum.Staying low, I swiped my short wooden sticks, the ones I
Quinn's POVI asked for strong, hardened warriors. So why did I find myself staring down at a runt who looked like he had barely seen eighteen winters?I sat perfectly still on a thick branch of the ancient oak tree, my presence masked by the shadows and the rustle of leaves. Below me, the pup had
Elsie’s POV"She has humongous tits," a hairy, buff man shouted, his voice echoing off the canvas walls of Tent 42. He was leaning back on his bedroll, a crude grin plastered on his face. "As she rode me, they were flapping in my face like great balloons!"He finished his sentence with a roar of la







