All Chapters of BARBARIAN: Court Of Thorns And Roses.: Chapter 71 - Chapter 78

The courtyard was quiet again after the last wolf warrior departed, moving to spread Adrian’s orders to the minor packs scattered across the plains. He remained where he was, shoulders squared, eyes fixed on the horizon, as if looking far enough would let him see every pack, every soldier, every hidden threat before it emerged. The wind had shifted slightly, bringing the faint scent of the plains and distant smoke. A reminder that the world was alive, even as the calm stretched over the citadel like a fragile veil.He let himself breathe, though the weight on his chest did not lessen. Each breath carried tension, carried the responsibility of every wolf who had ever trusted him, of every life that would be touched by the coming conflict. Caierre’s face drifted into his mind unbidden, as sharp and clear as a blade. He could picture him standing in the healer’s corridor, hands moving deftly over wounds he could not count, mind so focused that the world beyond him blurred. Adrian’s chest

Fredrick did not like running errands in daylight.Darkness hid sins better. Darkness made men like him feel less seen, less judged. But Esmeralda had asked him to go now, not later, and when Esmeralda asked for something, Fredrick obeyed without question. His loyalty to her was not gentle. It was sharp. It was dangerous. It was the kind of devotion that did not ask whether something was right or wrong. It only asked whether it pleased her.He pulled the hood of his cloak lower as he left the inner paths of the pack and moved toward the forest road that led away from the main settlement. The path to the abandoned cottage was narrow and forgotten, swallowed by tall weeds and cracked stones. Few wolves traveled that way anymore. It led to nothing but rot and silence.Which made it perfect.Fredrick’s boots crushed dry leaves as he walked. The wind whispered through the trees, brushing against his cloak like curious fingers. His mind, however, was far from the forest. It was with Esmeral

The council chamber smelled of wax and aged wood, a quiet tension hanging over the long oak table where the members had gathered. Candlelight flickered, casting long, wavering shadows across the walls and the faces of the wolves who served her loyally—or at least, who believed they did. Esmeralda’s fingers tapped lightly against the polished surface, her mind moving faster than her lips could ever speak. Every detail mattered. Every expression counted. Every pause was a trap.Her uncle, Elder Herold, sat across from her, hands clasped and eyes calm, though she could feel the anticipation thrumming beneath his composure. He had always been her guide, her advisor, the one who had raised her when the world had abandoned her. And now, like always, he was a pillar she could lean on—but she could not let him see how much she leaned. Not completely. Not yet.“Alpha Vaelthorn is faltering,” she began, her voice low but commanding, carrying easily through the room. “He has yet to catch his sis

The council room had emptied, leaving Esmeralda alone with the lingering scent of ink, wax seals, and old stone. The torches along the walls flickered, casting long, dancing shadows across the maps that sprawled across the table. The maps themselves were her playground, her tools, each line and symbol a potential weapon or leverage point. Her fingers traced the borders of Silvermark’s territory, the minor packs surrounding it, the roads, the rivers, and the hidden valleys. Each line sparked a calculation, a possibility, a plan that only she could see.Her thoughts drifted, as they often did, to her past. She could still remember the night her pack fell. The snow had been thick, muffling the sounds outside until the first screams shattered the silence. Her father’s voice calling her name, the sound of claws and teeth, the fire that swallowed their home… She had tried to protect her mother, tried to shield her siblings, but the invaders were relentless. She had watched as her parents we