The summons this time came wrapped in perfume.
Not parchment. Not iron-sealed slips. Perfume.
The scroll itself was laced with a scent so sweet it made my stomach tighten — jasmine and rot, honey smeared over carrion.
Wei Lan inhaled deep, her lips parting in pleasure. "Ahh. Our turn to meet the Widow."
Qiao Han spat on the stone floor. "Poison in paper. Even their ink stinks."
Shen Yu wouldn't touch the scroll at all. His ink-stained hands trembled, quill scratching words on his own parchment instead: Widow summons, Widow devours, wolves vanish.
I read the message aloud.
Lin Xuan. Wolves of Reed. The Widow calls. Refusal will be remembered.
No seal. No mark. Just words and the stench of perfume that clung too long.
I folded it once, slid it into my sleeve, and rose. "We answer."
* * * * * * * * *
Ink Widow's hall was nothing like Iron Veil's chamber of chains.
Where his was cold stone and suffocating discipline, hers was drowning in warmth and smoke.
Curtains of silk hung from the ceiling, shimmering with oil-lamps hidden behind them. Incense burned thick, clouds of pale green that blurred the edges of sight. The air was hot, wet, clinging to skin until breath itself felt drugged.
And in the center, lounging on cushions like a queen of rot, sat Ink Widow.
Her robes were dark violet, embroidered with twisting flowers. Her hands, as always, were stained to the knuckles, black veins creeping beneath her nails. When she smiled, it was all teeth — beautiful, gleaming, and wrong.
Her Lein bled into the air itself. I felt it the moment we stepped across the threshold: threads of qi dripping downward like venom through a wound, heavy, slow, inevitable.
My wolves faltered.
Wei Lan swayed, her smile dreamy, almost entranced. Qiao Han stiffened, jaw clenched, forcing each breath like he was lifting boulders. Shen Yu simply dropped to his knees, scribbling furiously on his parchment, ink splattering the cushions beneath him.
I forced my breath steady, my pulse calm.
Iron Veil's chains constricted when fear spiked. Ink Widow's venom seeped when resolve weakened. I could already see the pattern.
* * * * * * * * *
"Ahh, the little wolves," she said, her voice syrup over knives. "The clever one, the drunk one, the loud one, and the trembling one. How sweet you look, caught in my web."
Her eyes fixed on me. "Especially you, Lin Xuan."
I bowed low. "Captain Widow."
She laughed, a low, throaty sound that rattled faintly in her chest. "Mmm. The veil strangles, I seduce. And both of us pluck at the same strings, do we not? He called you into his hall, yes? Tightened his chains about your neck?"
Wei Lan giggled, half-choked by the smoke. "Choked us pretty he did, Captain. Left marks to prove it."
Ink Widow's smile widened. "Mmm. Of course he did. He always did love to bind."
She leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees, eyes gleaming through the smoke. "Tell me, little spider-wolf. What did he ask of you?"
The room tightened. I felt the poison seep closer, heavier. A test.
* * * * * * * * *
I kept my voice steady.
"He asked where we walked. He asked if wolves could slay vultures. He asked what I saw when I looked at chains."
Her eyes glimmered. "And what did you answer?"
"That Lein are not weapons. They are truths. Chains born of will. Discipline given shape."
The poison in the air shivered, as if pleased.
Ink Widow laughed, soft and slow. "Mmm. Clever. Clever little wolf. Yes… chains are truths. And mine? Poison is patient truth. Slow. Seeping. I speak, and lies melt. I touch, and flesh wilts. Discipline?" She spat the word like venom. "Chains break under poison given time."
She rose, slow, her body swaying like smoke. Her hands left streaks of black on the silks she brushed past.
She stopped before me, so close the perfume and rot tangled in my lungs. Her stained fingers lifted my chin, nails scratching faintly at my throat.
"You interest me," she whispered. "The veil strangles you. I would drip into you instead. Protect you. Feed you. In exchange…" Her smile widened, poisonous and sweet. "You belong to me."
The poison thickened. My wolves swayed. Wei Lan's lips parted as if ready to agree. Qiao Han's hand twitched toward his saber, but even he swayed, his strength blunted by the smoke. Shen Yu's quill scratched frantically: Poison binds, poison binds, poison owns.
It was a trap. A poisoned leash disguised as kindness.
To refuse outright would mark us enemies. To accept would make us hers.
There was only one path: weave between.
* * * * * * * * *
I let my body sway faintly, as though succumbing. I lowered my gaze.
"Captain Widow," I said slowly, carefully, "your poison seeps where chains cannot. Your truth reaches where discipline fails. If we belong anywhere, it is under your shadow."
The poison pulsed stronger. Her smile gleamed.
"But," I continued, voice still soft, "the veil watches us. His chains tighten. If we drink too deep, his strangling will follow. For now, we walk a knife's edge. Between chain and poison."
Silence.
For a long, suffocating moment, I thought she would mark me for death.
Then Ink Widow laughed. Louder. Sharper. Her hand slid from my chin, leaving black smears on my skin.
"Mmm. Yes. A spider-wolf indeed. You will not drink, but you will sip. You will not bind, but you will linger. Very well. Walk your knife's edge. For now."
She turned away, drifting back to her cushions, smoke curling about her like silk serpents.
"Go, little wolves. Tell the veil nothing of this. If you do… my poison will know."
* * * * * * * * *
We left her hall half-drugged, lungs burning with incense.
Wei Lan staggered into the corridor, laughing, her eyes glazed. "Ohhh, beautiful. Her smile, her scent, her promise. I would drink her venom gladly."
Qiao Han spat hard, his spit blackened faintly on the stones. "She tried to leash us like dogs. Poison leash, chain leash — all the same."
Shen Yu scribbled even as he stumbled. Leader sipped, not drank. Knife's edge. Knife's edge cuts. Poison drips. Veil strangles. Wolves torn apart.
I wiped the smear of black from my throat with my sleeve, staring at the stain.
Chains bind. Poison seeps. Both demand leash.
And if wolves were to survive, I would have to weave between them until even poison and chain could not tell where I stood.
* * * * * * * * *
We hadn't walked far from Ink Widow's chamber when the runner appeared.
He was young, little more than a boy, but his eyes were pale gray — Iron Veil's mark upon him. He bowed low, hands trembling as he extended a sealed slip.
"Captain Veil summons you. Now."
Wei Lan laughed, voice still husky from Widow's smoke. "Ahhh. From poison to chains, back and forth. They'll tear us to ribbons before we even bare our fangs."
Qiao Han muttered, "They're already tearing us. Just not fast enough."
Shen Yu clutched his scroll to his chest, scribbling with shaking hands. Knife's edge bends. Knife's edge cuts. Wolves bleed.
I took the slip, broke the seal.
Lin Xuan. Speak. Or silence will be strangled as guilt.
I folded it, tucked it away, and breathed slow.
Two captains. Two predators. Both circling.
One with chains, one with poison.
And me — a wolf trying to weave spider's silk between them.
* * * * * * * * *
Iron Veil's chamber of silk-chains was colder than before. The black threads hummed faintly, stretched taut, quivering with every breath we took.
He sat at the center as always, veil covering all but those pale eyes.
"Lin Xuan," he said. "You've seen the Widow."
It wasn't a question.
I bowed. "Captain Veil."
The chains around the room shivered faintly, waiting.
"She called you because she fears me," he continued. "She drips poison into every shadow. You walked in it. Tell me what she said."
The wolves shifted uneasily. Wei Lan's lips parted, eager to speak, but I lifted a hand slightly. She bit down on her smile, silent.
My breath slowed. My pulse steadied. I remembered the pattern: chains tightened with fear, loosened with calm.
"She asked what you asked," I said carefully. "Where we were. What I saw. She asked if wolves could slay vultures."
"And you answered?"
"That Lein are truths given form. Chains, poison — each born from the will that bears them."
The chains stilled.
Iron Veil studied me. "And then?"
The air tightened. I felt the noose waiting.
"She pressed," I admitted. "Offered protection. Her venom in exchange for loyalty. But I told her this: chains strangle, poison seeps. We walk between. To drink her venom would strangle us faster. To bind in chains would rot us quicker. So we walk a knife's edge. For now."
Silence.
The chains did not tighten.
Wei Lan gave a breathless laugh, like she'd been holding it too long. Qiao Han exhaled sharply. Shen Yu dropped his scroll, ink spilling across the floor.
Iron Veil leaned forward slightly, eyes pale as frost. "You refused her."
I bowed my head. "We sip, but do not drink. We bow, but do not kneel."
His eyes narrowed. Then — faintly — he inclined his head.
"Good. Wolves that kneel to poison are no wolves at all."
The chains loosened.
But then his gaze sharpened again.
"You learn too quickly, Lin Xuan. Too sharp. Spiders weaving between captains. Beware. Webs can be strangled as easily as throats."
* * * * * * * * *
We were dismissed, the chains releasing us like prey let loose to run a little longer.
Wei Lan clutched her throat and laughed again, drunk on danger. "Ahhh, delicious! Caught between poison and chains, yet still breathing. Leader, you dance beautifully."
Qiao Han growled. "Beautiful? He just painted a target on our backs. The Widow knows he lied. The Veil knows he twisted truth. Both will gut us when it suits them."
Shen Yu whispered, "Both eyes. Both daggers. Wolves flayed." He scribbled the words until the ink smeared his palms black.
I walked in silence, though inside my chest my heart hammered.
Because he was right.
I hadn't escaped their leashes. I'd only wound them tighter around me.
* * * * * * * * *
That night, while the wolves argued in whispers, I bled.
I sat alone in the courtyard again, forcing qi through veins until they screamed. My body shuddered, blood spilling from my lips.
But this time, I pressed deeper. I remembered the Widow's seeping qi, the Veil's tightening chains. I remembered how my blood had burned before, how the taste of iron had carried the first flicker.
I bit my tongue, let blood fill my mouth. Pushed qi into it, shaping it, forcing it outward.
It hurt. Gods, it hurt. My ribs felt like they were splitting apart, my veins tearing like rotten cloth.
But then —
Threads.
Thin, crimson threads flickering between my fingers. Not stable. Not strong. But there.
For a heartbeat, my blood held shape. A chain of red, faint as smoke, alive.
Then it burst, splattering across my hands, dripping down my arms.
I collapsed, gasping, laughter bubbling in my throat with the blood.
Not failure. Proof.
Blood would be my chain.
* * * * * * * * *
At dawn, Reed appeared again, as silent as the shadow that named him.
He studied the stains across the courtyard stones, the blood still wet on my hands. His eyes lingered on me.
"You push faster," he said.
I forced myself upright, trembling. "I saw a chain."
Reed was silent for a long time. Then he nodded once. "The captains squabble. Poison and chains already test you. The others will soon follow. Prepare."
He turned to leave, but paused in the archway.
"And Lin Xuan—" His voice was low. "Do not forget. Wolves that weave webs too well are seen not as wolves… but as spiders. And spiders are crushed before they grow too large."
Then he was gone.
* * * * * * * * *
The wolves found me later. Wei Lan's smile was wider than ever, her eyes gleaming. "Mmm. Chains of blood. I saw them flicker. You'll weave something beautiful, Leader. I'll drink every drop when it's ready."
Qiao Han scowled, though his tone was softer than before. "You'll die if you keep this pace. But… you stood before Veil and Widow both and still breathe. I'll follow that, even if it kills us."
Shen Yu only scribbled faster, muttering. Leader bleeds. Blood chains. Blood binds. Blood devours.
* * * * * * * * *
By midday, another summons came.
This one bore no perfume, no seal of iron. Only a single line, written in the hand of a scribe that trembled:
All captains convene at dusk. War is declared.