Chapter Five: Whispers Before the Storm

The palace had always been a hive of whispers, but since dawn the corridors hummed with sharper edges. Servants carried trays too quickly, guards checked their spears more than once, and even the air smelled of nervous anticipation. Elara could feel it thrumming in her veins as she walked the length of the council corridor.

Today, the conversation was no longer about training schedules or harvest trade. Today, everything was about the envoy.

The Ironfang Pack.

Alpha Garrison’s banner had always carried weight in her father’s court. A man ruthless in politics and relentless in ambition, he had built his influence on alliances that cut deeper than steel. In her first life, Elara remembered the day that banner flew over their palace after the betrayal. The memory threatened to claw up her throat now, but she forced her face into calm composure. She could not let anyone see her fear.

“Princess Elara.”

The voice belonged to Lord Thane, one of her father’s senior advisors. He bowed stiffly, his sharp nose and lean frame giving him the look of a vulture. “Your father awaits you in the council chamber. The matter of Ironfang cannot be delayed.”

Elara inclined her head. “Of course, my lord.”

Her footsteps echoed as she entered the chamber. Sunlight cut across the long table, where her father sat at its head, council members gathered along either side. Kael lounged near the far end, trying—and failing—to look interested. Her mother sat nearby, regal as always, her embroidery set aside as her eyes swept the assembly.

“Elara.” Her father’s voice carried the weight of authority. “Take your seat. We have much to discuss.”

She slid into the chair beside her mother. Scrolls and sealed letters lay scattered across the table, evidence of hurried messengers and late-night debates.

Lord Thane cleared his throat. “The Ironfang envoy will arrive within two days. Alpha Garrison himself will not come, but he sends his sons as representatives.”

Elara’s pulse stumbled.

His sons.

The words cracked like thunder inside her. In her first life, she had known one of them far too well. She had loved him, trusted him, and bled beneath his betrayal.

“Two sons?” Kael lifted his head, interest sparking for once. “I thought Garrison’s firstborn lived far from court.”

Another councilor, Lady Merin, adjusted her spectacles. “The elder, yes. Darius. By all accounts, he is stronger than his father ever was. Too strong. That is why Garrison despises him. He fears being overshadowed.”

A ripple of low laughter spread around the table, but Elara did not join. Her mind clung to the name. Darius. She remembered fragments from her past life: mentions of a reclusive warrior, a shadow that rarely appeared in courts. She had never met him face to face.

“The younger son, however,” Lord Thane continued, “is favored. Charming, ambitious, and far more eager to make allies. It is expected he will one day inherit Garrison’s seat.”

Elara’s stomach twisted. She did not need to hear his name to know.

“Prince Kieran,” Thane said smoothly. “A fine match for any daughter of standing.”

Her hand curled into a fist beneath the table. Kieran. The name scraped against her like broken glass.

Her old mate. The one who had ripped her heart from her chest with a smile.

Her wolf stirred inside her, not with longing but with raw fury. She pressed the emotion down before it could leak into her face.

“Perhaps,” Kael muttered with a grin, “we should host a tournament. Let us see what these Ironfang sons are made of.”

Her father shot him a quelling look. “This is not a game, Kael. Ironfang seeks more than sport. Their envoy comes with purpose, and we must tread carefully.” His gaze swept the table, landing briefly on Elara. “Every gesture we make will be weighed and twisted for their advantage.”

Elara drew in a steady breath. “Then we must make sure our gestures show strength, not weakness.”

A hush fell. Several councilors turned to look at her with raised brows. Even her father paused, studying her.

“You speak with unusual certainty, daughter,” he said finally.

Elara forced her expression into calm composure. “I only wish to protect what is ours. Alpha Garrison is not known for kindness.”

Her father’s mouth twitched, half amusement, half approval. “True enough.”

Her mother reached for her hand under the table, a gentle squeeze. To the court, it looked like motherly comfort. To Elara, it felt like an anchor.

After the council adjourned, Elara lingered in the hall. Scrolls were gathered, advisors filed out, her father returned to his chambers. Only Kael remained, tossing an apple between his hands.

“You’ve changed,” he remarked casually.

Elara stiffened. “What do you mean?”

you used to sit through council bored out of your mind. Today you sounded like you were ready to bite someone’s throat out.” His grin widened. “Not that I mind. It was entertaining.”

Elara’s lips curved faintly, though her heart still thundered. “Maybe I’m simply tired of being overlooked.”

Kael shrugged, biting into the apple. “Whatever it is, keep it up. The court didn’t know what to do with you.”

She left him there, her thoughts heavier with every step.

That night, Elara could not sleep. The moon spilled silver across her chambers, shadows stretching long against the walls. She lay awake, memories gnawing at her.

Kieran’s laughter. His hand in hers. The warmth of his kiss before the cold of his betrayal.

And now, he was coming.

Her fingers pressed against her mark—the one that had once bound her to him. The skin there tingled faintly, as if the ghost of that false bond still lingered. She clenched her jaw.

Never again

She rose and crossed to the window. Beyond the palace walls, the forest stretched wide, dark and endless. Somewhere out there, the Ironfang sons were riding toward her. One a ghost she could never forgive. The other a stranger whispered about in half-fear, half-respect.

Her wolf shifted uneasily within her, restless beneath her skin. For a moment, she swore she felt something—a pull, faint but insistent, like the first threads of a song she had yet to learn. It was not Kieran’s echo. It was something deeper, older.

Elara’s breath caught.

Was it possible…?

She shook her head sharply, retreating from the window. No. She could not afford to hope. Not yet. But as she slid back beneath the covers, her vow hardened once more.

Kieran might come with smiles and promises, but she would see through every lie. And if destiny dared to bind her to another—someone stronger, someone dangerous—then she would decide for herself how to face it.

This time, she would not be the naive princess waiting to be betrayed.

This time, she would be ready.