LOGIN(Daciana POV)The cracked Alpha ring slid onto Niall’s small finger, and the altar beneath Blackfang bowed like stone had recognized a child.Every chain around the trapped children loosened for one breath, then tightened again as if the altar remembered cruelty before mercy could move.Niall stared at the ring with wide brown eyes, no longer fully black, no longer fully free, and too young for every wolf watching him.Bardolph stood frozen beside me, one hand pressed against his bleeding ribs, while horror and wonder fought across his face.The ring had rejected Lobo.The ring had not returned to Bardolph.It had chosen the child Blackfang buried beneath servant blood and forgotten rooms.Farkas fell to one knee, not from command, but from the old recognition of a bloodline hidden too long.“Living heir,” he whispered, and the words moved through the chamber like a secret becoming dangerous after years of silence.Lobo staggered backward, clutching his torn palm, his face twisted wit
(Daciana POV)The cracked Alpha ring burned in Lobo’s palm, and Bardolph’s knees struck the stone as his hidden bloodline answered through Niall.Every loyal Blackfang warrior behind Bardolph stiffened at once, their eyes widening as red light crawled across the old Alpha marks beneath their skin.Farkas shouted for them to resist, but the ring’s command moved faster than loyalty, guilt, fear, or any elder’s warning.The first warrior turned his blade toward Bardolph with tears already spilling down his face before his arm fully obeyed.“Alpha,” the warrior choked, fighting his own wrist while the blade rose against the man he had followed through war and disgrace.Bardolph looked at him, and I saw the old Alpha inside him break again beneath the horror of being attacked by those who still loved him.“Do not kill them,” Bardolph said, forcing the words through clenched teeth while the ring held him kneeling before Lobo’s stolen claim.Lobo laughed from the other side of the blood circ
(Bardolph POV)The altar laughed through all twelve children, but I heard only one word cutting through the darkness beneath Blackfang’s old hall.Uncle.The smallest boy stood inside the red circle, clutching his broken wooden wolf while Blood Feather's blackness swallowed his frightened eyes.His face was thin, pale, and dirty from captivity, yet something in the shape of his jaw struck my chest like memory.I had seen that jaw in my father’s portrait.I had seen that same stubborn brow in my own mirror after nights without sleep.My wolf froze before my mind accepted the truth.Blackfang’s old Alpha blood stood chained inside a servant child.Lobo smiled behind him, holding the cracked Alpha ring like he had waited for this moment longer than he had waited for power.“Do you see him now?” Lobo asked, his voice soft with the cruelty of a man opening another family’s grave.I took one step forward, and every chain around the children tightened hard enough to make the smallest boy cry
(Daciana POV)All twelve children turned their faces toward me at once, and Blood Feather blackness filled their eyes like night poured into innocence.The smallest boy still clutched his broken wooden wolf, but his smile belonged to something buried long before his first breath.Bardolph stepped forward with a strangled sound, and every chain around the children tightened hard enough to make them cry out.“Do not move,” I warned, lifting one hand while my whole body screamed to run toward the children.Bardolph froze, his face pale with helpless fury, because every instinct in him wanted to tear the altar apart with his bare hands.The red circle beneath the children pulsed, and Adolphus’s golden eye watched through the blood smoke rising from the altar’s center.Lobo stood behind the children with the cracked Alpha ring bleeding down his hand, wearing victory like a wolf wearing another man’s skin.“You see the problem now,” Lobo said, his voice low and pleased beneath the frightene
(Daciana POV)Lobo’s words chased us from the moon field toward Blackfang, and every step felt like running into a trap already breathing.The old Alpha Hall stood beyond the western ridge, dark against the dying moon, with smoke rising from beneath its proud stone floor.Bardolph ran beside me, no longer kneeling, because Otsana and I had both moved forward and the vow allowed protection through motion.Otsana stayed on my other side, gold mark blazing beneath her sleeve, while Conri led Northridge warriors through the broken border path.Behind us, Ashina remained near the ancient throne with guards and servants, still clutching Maelor while Rudina’s fading spirit watched the shadow cradle.Leaving her there felt dangerous.Going to Blackfang felt worse.But the children beneath the Alpha Hall had no time for perfect choices, and perfect choices had never come for me anyway.The closer we came to Blackfang, the hotter Rudina’s crown burned against my head, warning me before the old
(Daciana POV)The cracked Alpha ring bled onto the moon field, and half of Blackfang knelt before Lobo like fear had finally found its favorite shape.The other half stayed standing behind Farkas, wounded servants, and the warriors who still remembered that strength without honor becomes another kind of hunger.Bardolph remained on one knee between Otsana and me, bound by a vow that made him look powerless to wolves who worshipped force.Lobo lifted his bleeding hand, and the red light from the broken ring crawled over his arm like a living wound wearing victory.“Blackfang has chosen,” he shouted, letting every word strike Bardolph’s bowed body before reaching the watching packs.I looked at the wolves kneeling before him, and old bitterness rose inside me with a face I recognized too well.These were the people who had believed Ashina’s tears.These were the mouths that called me traitor.These were the hands that let chains touch my wrists in the house I had helped protect.A cruel
(Daciana POV)The servants’ marks wake around me, and the moon drags both daughters toward a ceremony none of us can escape.)Every scarred servant in the bakehouse cellar screamed at once, and the sound rose like old chains remembering every wrist they had touched.Black feathers burned beneath he
(Daciana POV)Marris’s words remained in the bakehouse cellar like smoke that refused to rise, and every servant stared at Otsana Blackmoon differently.My sister stood beneath the low ceiling with her hands half-raised, as if she could push the memory back into Marris’s mouth.The servants who had
(Daciana POV)Conri’s throne still dripped Blood Feather blood when the servants began disappearing from kitchens, stables, laundries, nurseries, and hidden lower passages.At first, the nobles thought fear had scattered them, because nobles often mistake silence for obedience when servants stop an
(Conri POV)I returned to Northridge before sunset with Rudina’s crown still locked on Daciana’s head and trouble riding behind us like smoke.Blackfang had become a bleeding wound, but Northridge should have been the place where Daciana could stand without another knife waiting.I was wrong.The f







