Kael Draven's blood roared as the war horn blared through Ironhowl Keep, its wail cutting through the clamor of the Council's riders assembling in the courtyard. The air was thick with the scent of steel and fear, and the blood moon hung low, casting an eerie red glow over the snow-dusted ramparts. Rogues at the gates—here, in his stronghold, where no enemy had dared strike in a decade. His pack was fraying, and now this. He gripped the hilt of his blade, its weight a tether to the control slipping through his fingers.
"Torin!" Kael bellowed, storming through the keep's grand hall. His beta was already there, barking orders to warriors scrambling to arm themselves. "Report!"
"Rogues, maybe twenty," Torin said, his gray eyes hard. "They hit the eastern gate. Fire arrows, battering rams. They're not just scavengers, Kael. They're organized."
Kael's jaw clenched. Organized rogues meant one thing: the Shadowclaws, the rebel pack that had been stirring dissent in the Wastes. Or worse, they were here for her—the rogue girl in the cells, the one whose pendant had glowed like a beacon, whose defiance had set his wolf howling in ways he couldn't explain. "Secure the Council riders," he ordered. "And get Lyra. I want her on the walls, scouting."
Torin hesitated, a flicker of suspicion crossing his face. "What about the prisoner? If she's tied to this"
"She's locked down," Kael snapped, but the lie tasted bitter. He'd felt that pulse in the cell block, seen the glow of her pendant. She wasn't just a rogue, and if the Shadowclaws wanted her, it meant she was a weapon. One he couldn't let slip away—or fall into the wrong hands.
He pushed past Torin, striding toward the eastern ramparts. The keep was a fortress, its stone walls etched with runes to ward off attacks, but the rogues were bold, their howls rising over the clash of steel. Kael reached the battlements, his amber eyes scanning the chaos below. Fire arrows streaked through the night, igniting barrels of pitch near the gate. Dark shapes moved in the shadows,wolves and human forms, swift and coordinated, hammering at the iron portcullis with a ram fashioned from a felled tree.
"Archers!" Kael roared, his voice carrying over the din. "Hold the gate! No one gets through!"
His warriors responded, their bows singing as arrows rained down. A rogue screamed, clutching an arrow in his shoulder, but the ram kept pounding, the gate groaning under the assault. Kael's wolf clawed at his chest, urging him to shift, to tear into the enemy. But he held back, his mind racing. The Council's riders were watching, their presence a blade at his back. If he failed to protect the keep, his pack's strength would be questioned. If he lost the rogue girl, the answers to the bond rejections might vanish with her.
A flash of movement caught his eye,a figure slipping through the shadows near the gate, cloaked and agile. His gut twisted. Her. The rogue girl, free from her cell, darting toward the chaos. How the hell had she escaped? He cursed, vaulting over the rampart's edge and landing in a crouch on the courtyard below, his boots crunching in the snow.
"Eira!" he shouted, her name slipping out before he could stop it. He'd heard a guard mutter it in the cells, a whisper from her past. She froze, her silver hair glinting under the blood moon as she turned, her violet eyes locking onto his. For a moment, the battle faded, the world narrowing to the space between them. That hum in his chest flared again, sharp and undeniable, like a thread pulling taut.
She didn't run. Instead, she smirked, that infuriating curve of her lips. "Miss me already, Alpha?" she called, her voice cutting through the screams and howls. Then she bolted, weaving through the courtyard toward a side gate, where the fighting was fiercest.
Kael sprinted after her, his blood pounding with a mix of rage and something he refused to name. She was fast, her movements fluid despite the chaos, dodging a falling beam as a fire arrow struck a wooden scaffold. He gained on her, his longer strides eating the distance, but a rogue wolf leaped from the shadows, its jaws aimed for her throat.
Instinct took over. Kael lunged, tackling the wolf and driving his blade into its side. It yelped, collapsing, but not before its claws raked his arm, blood welling through his torn sleeve. Eira skidded to a halt, her eyes wide with shock as she looked at him not with gratitude, but with suspicion.
"Why?" she demanded, her voice low, almost lost in the din.
He didn't have an answer. Not for her, not for the pull that had made him save her instead of letting the rogue tear her apart. "Move!" he growled, shoving her toward the side gate. "You're not dying on my watch."
She hesitated, her gaze flicking to the gate, then back to him. For a heartbeat, he thought she'd run. But then a deafening crack split the air,the main gate buckled, the battering ram breaking through. Rogues poured in, their howls mingling with the screams of his warriors. And in the chaos, a new figure emerged, cloaked in black, their silver hair gleaming under the blood moon. Their violet eyes met Eira's, and a smile curled their lips,a smile that promised death.
"Eira!" the figure called, their voice sharp and commanding. "Time to choose your side."
Kael's blood ran cold. The Shadowclaws. And they knew her name. He grabbed Eira's arm, pulling her back as the figure raised a hand, a pulse of dark energy rippling outward. The air twisted, the runes on the keep's walls flaring and then dimming, as if drained. Eira gasped, her pendant glowing so brightly it burned through her cloak, and that hum in Kael's chest turned to a roar.
"What are you?" he demanded, his grip tightening.
She yanked free, her eyes blazing with fear and defiance. "Run, Alpha. Or you'll find out."
Before he could stop her, she darted into the fray, toward the figure with silver hair. The blood moon pulsed above, its light bathing the keep in crimson, and Kael's wolf howled, a primal call that shook his soul. Whatever she was, whatever this was, it wasn't just a rogue attack.
It was the beginning of a war.