Blackfang Territory
At the far end, on a throne of black oak and wolfbone, sat Evadne.
Her golden eyes, sharp as molten coins, studied the eight elders who stood in a half-circle before her. Their voices overlapped, like crows clamoring over carrion.
"Alpha, we beseech you," one elder urged, his wiry beard trembling with passion. "The packs grow restless. The people whisper. We must strike the humans now, before they strike us first!"
Another shook his head, his voice steadier. "If we attack the humans, the treaty will crumble. War will come again."
A third spoke up, softer but firm. "Then let us at least investigate, Alpha. We cannot move blind."
"Investigate?" the first elder spat. "It is plain as day! This massacre reeks of human hands. Must we wait until they put torches to our dens?"
The voices rose, clashing against one another like swords.
Evadne lifted her hand. "Enough."
The word cut through the air like a whip. The elders fell silent, their gazes drawn to her as if by leash.
Before she could speak further, the great doors opened.
Bastian walked in.
He dropped to one knee, head bowed.
"Alpha," he said, voice deep and resonant. "An envoy from the human kingdom has arrived."
Evadne's golden eyes narrowed. "An envoy?"
"Yes." Bastian lifted his gaze. "The envoy bears the king's seal. They name him Commander Renard."
The elders stirred at once, unease rippling through them.
The eldest among them, the calmest of the eight, Grand Elder Cyras, whose silver hair hung like a wolf's mane, finally broke his silence. His voice was slow, heavy as stone.
"Commander Renard… the wolf hunter?"
A ripple of alarm shuddered through the council.
One elder snarled outright. "So that is their game! They send a butcher, not a diplomat. An insult, Alpha. A provocation! This envoy is meant to break us, not speak with us."
"Look at it clearly," another hissed. "A hunter in our halls is no envoy. He is a dagger aimed at your throat."
Evadne's lips curved in the barest hint of a smile. Her gaze flicked toward Bastian, then back to the elders.
"Be silent," she said, her voice low and cutting. The chamber fell still again.
Her fingers drummed once against the throne's arm.
A wolf hunter, here, under the guise of diplomacy? she thought, her golden eyes narrowing again. So, Commander Renard comes into the den of wolves. I wonder… does he carry arrogance, or courage?
Aloud, she said, "I will see him myself. Let us hear what reason the humans have for sending their famed hunter to treat with me."
Her smile sharpened, bright as a blade in firelight.
"And if he came to bare fangs instead of words… then he will not leave this hall alive."
Few minutes passed, Renard entered the chamber flanked by Adam and Elise. The three humans bowed slightly, a gesture foreign to the wolves, meant as a sign of respect.
Evadne waved them off, dismissive, her golden eyes sharp.
"Tell me," she said, voice cold and steady, "what do you humans want?"
Renard's gaze swept over her, taking in her stance, her hair, the way she carried herself. He hasn't changed one bit, he thought. Werewolves really don't age like we do.
"Speak," Evadne commanded, her hand resting lightly on the arm of her throne.
Renard's smile was sly, controlled. "Alpha, I'll be straightforward. Our kingdom has suffered greatly from the recent… massacres."
Evadne's eyes narrowed. "Does the king suspect us werewolves?"
Renard's smile widened, almost amused. "It would be hard not to suspect."
"So he sent you… to investigate, to watch me and my people," she said, her tone even, though a chill ran through the room.
The elders shifted uneasily. Bastian's jaw tightened. Even Adam and Elise felt the tension prickling the air.
Renard nodded once. "Yes. That is precisely why I am here. But rest assured, Alpha… I am only here to investigate. As long as you and your people do nothing to harm the humans, there will be no trouble."
Evadne's lips curved upwards. She let the words hang in the air like a blade suspended over the room.
"Very well," she said, voice low but firm. "Then speak plainly. I am listening."
Renard leaned slightly forward, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "The killings in human territory… well, they've been brutal. Towns wiped out, entire patrols gone missing. It's unlike anything we've faced before. The king is worried...and frankly, so am I."
Evadne's golden eyes narrowed. "Oh! That's quite the coincidence, because," she said slowly, "there have been killings in the werewolf territory as well. But I didn't accuse humans, now did I?"
A ripple of unease ran through the council. Bastian's jaw tightened, but Evadne let the moment stretch, enjoying the silence.
"Could this mean… something else is behind it?" she asked, voice low. "Something that does not want the treaty between humans and werewolves to stand?"
Renard tilted his head, nodding thoughtfully. "That could be true. But we can't say for sure."
Then, with a sly grin, he added, "Well, Alpha… I have to say, you carry yourself like a true warrior. Most men I've faced wouldn't dare sit so… comfortably in their throne."
The chamber went still for a beat. Then Bastian snorted, a low chuckle rumbling from him. A few of the elders' lips twitched into suppressed laughter. Evadne froze, the hint of a frown forming, though her golden eyes glimmered with amusement.
I don't know if I should take it as a compliment, she thought, one eyebrow lifting. She let the silence stretch, letting Renard's boldness hang in the air like a knife.
"Back to the matter," she said finally.
Renard's smile returned, more businesslike. "Ah, yes. It seems we have the same problem. I will find a way to clear your territory's name before the king, and then..."
"No need," Evadne interrupted smoothly, voice firm. "I will handle mine. You handle yours. Bastian, take them to their chambers."
Bastian stepped forward, bowing slightly, and motioned for Adam and Elise to follow. The humans complied without protest, the tension in their shoulders betraying their unease.
Evadne watched them go, a faint smirk flickering over her lips. 'I will be watching them closely.'
Night had draped Blackfang Territory in silver shadows. The moon shone high, spilling pale light across the stone walls of the Alpha's castle, reflecting off the frost that had crept along the towers and battlements.
Renard leaned against the sill of his window in the guest chambers, the cool night air brushing his face. His eyes scanned the forest below, tracing the patterns of black shapes that could have been wolves or ghosts, who knows?
His thoughts already turning over the events of the day.
Blackfang's Alpha… quite reasonable. Nothing like the rumors painted about him, Renard thought, voice barely audible, muttering to himself. Strong, controlled, clever… even the council didn't seem to shake him. Most men would've lost their temper.
He let out a faint, amused sigh. Should I… go see him?
The thought made him grin. He didn't know why he felt the pull...perhaps curiosity, perhaps ego. He wanted to see if the Alpha was as composed in private as he appeared in front of his elders. Perhaps he could learn something… or test his own ability to read him.
Renard stretched his arms, leaning against the cold stone, and muttered again, half to himself, half in challenge: I've faced kings, soldiers, and monsters but him? I can't quite read him… yet.
A sly smirk tugged at his lips. Best approach carefully. Respect the den, but… keep him on his toes.
He glanced toward the door, boots silent against the floor. Tonight, I might just learn whether the man they call Alpha is a king, a wolf, or both.
And with that thought, Renard adjusted the sword at his hip, his eyes glinting in the moonlight. Blue eyes, black hair… clever enough to survive a wolf den, bold enough to consider walking straight into it. What could possibly go wrong?
Renard exited his chambers, only to find two servants rushing past, faces pale and movements frantic.
One of them muttered, voice trembling, "If the envoys see this… they'll suspect us!"
Before he could ask more, Bastian appeared at the end of the hall, his presence commanding even in the dim moonlight. Renard, noticing him, stepped back into the shadows of his room, leaning against the doorframe to watch silently.
"Are the envoys in their rooms?" Bastian's voice cut through the tension, calm but edged with authority.
"Yes, Beta," the servants replied, voices hurried, glancing nervously past him.
A sudden, piercing howl ripped through the night. The servants froze for a heartbeat and then scattered like leaves in the wind, disappearing into the corridors.
Renard's blue eyes narrowed. He heard the howl too, a raw, wild note that tugged at something inside him. A grin spread across his face. Why not check it out?
He slipped quietly from his chambers, boots barely whispering against the polished stone floor. The hallway was empty.
"Strange," he muttered under his breath, eyes scanning the shadows. "I thought they'd lock me in… or at least keep me in my room."
The air felt colder here, the silence heavier. Every step he took echoed slightly, reminding him he was alone. And yet, the howl pulled him forward.
Renard adjusted the sword at his hip and whispered to himself, a thrill in his voice: "Let's see what the Alpha is really hiding tonight."