All Chapters of Heart of the Wolf Queen: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

 The morning broke gray and biting cold, a shroud of mist curling low over the Shadowfang encampment. Every sound carried differently in weather like this boots crunching against frost, the low growl of wolves in their half-shift forms, the metallic clash of weapons being drawn for drills.I rose early, not from habit but from necessity. Sleep had been a stranger to me for years, coming in snatches and scraps, never a full embrace. My body was weary, but I had long ago learned how to move through exhaustion like it was another layer of skin.At the water barrel, I splashed my face, the cold burn jolting me awake. My ribs ached from yesterday’s drills, a sharp reminder of how little mercy the Shadowfang warriors had for me. Bruises bloomed like violets across my arms, my side, my back. I pressed my palm against one and hissed, not at the pain, but at the thought that they believed I would break because of it.When I looked up, he was already there.

 The summons came at dusk.I was in my quarters, rubbing the ache from my wrists, when a sharp knock rattled the door. I opened it to find a young wolf barely older than a boy  standing stiffly at attention. His eyes never quite met mine.“The Alpha calls you,” he said, then turned and left before I could ask why.The words alone should have told me enough. But it was the silence outside, the sudden absence of laughter, the stillness settling over the camp that made my stomach tighten. Wolves rarely went quiet without reason.I followed.The boy led me through narrow paths lit by torches, deeper into the Shadowfang camp than I had yet gone. Soon the huts gave way to stone steps cut into the earth. The air grew heavier, thicker, tinged with smoke. When we emerged, I saw it:The Bloodfire Pit. It was an amphitheater carved into the ground itself, its stone walls worn by centuries of weather and wolves. Fi

 The moon hung low and heavy, pale light spilling across the encampment like liquid silver. The cold was sharper at night, a knife that cut through every layer of cloth and skin, biting deep into bone. My breath ghosted white into the darkness as I fastened my cloak, fingers stiff from the frost.Tonight was my first patrol.It wasn’t a duty given lightly. Night belonged to predators rogues, shadow-stalkers, and worse. Wolves sent to guard the borders at this hour had to be sharp, disciplined, unflinching. For me, it was more than a task. It was another test. Another chance to prove I was not the weak, broken thing they believed me to be.The yard outside the barracks was already alive with movement. Four warriors waited, cloaked in black and gray, their breath steaming in the frigid air. Their gazes shifted when I approached, not quite hiding the disdain in their eyes.“Shadowfang runs with real wolves, not strays,” one muttered under his br

The first thing Selene noticed when she woke was pain. Her arms ached, her legs felt heavy, and every bruise screamed in protest the moment she tried to move. She lay there for a while, staring at the wooden beams above her bed, almost convincing herself to stay still. But she knew better. In this place, if she didn’t rise, someone would drag her out and she’d never hear the end of it.With a sharp breath, she pushed herself upright. Her muscles burned, and her ribs throbbed where she’d taken a hit the day before. Still, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed, forcing herself to stand.That’s when it happened.A voice. Soft. Distant. Almost like a whisper carried on the wind.Hi.Selene froze. Her head snapped around the room. Empty. Just her and silence. She pressed her hand to her temple. Maybe she hadn’t slept enough. Maybe her brain was playing tricks on her.But then it came again.I never left.Her chest tightened. It wasn’t loud, it wasn’t clear, but it was real. Strang

The storm came without warning. By dusk, clouds had rolled over the Shadowfang mountains, thick and dark, muting the moon’s silver light. Thunder growled in the distance, low and unrelenting, while lightning flashed in jagged streaks, cutting the horizon open. Wolves never liked storms. Their instincts sharpened under pressure, senses heightened, and tempers shorter. The entire camp felt it a restless energy that made warriors prowl, made the half-shifted wolves pace and snarl in their pens. Selene lay awake long after the first roll of thunder cracked overhead. Sleep didn’t come easy on ordinary nights, and tonight, with the storm thrumming through her veins, it was impossible. She turned over on her narrow cot, pressing her cheek against the rough blanket, listening to the pounding of rain on the roof. Her ribs still ached from training earlier that day. Every bruise, every cut, was a reminder. The Shadowfang pack wasn’t kind especially not to her. And yet… she didn’t want kindnes