TERMS AT THE DOOR
The moon sat low and hard. Kael felt it like a weight on his shoulders. When he opened the door, the cold hit him and a smell he didn't like—wine and wet fur and the clean breath of strangers who had come too close to home.
The leader stepped forward. Cloak pulled low. Voice even and soft. "Alpha Kael Stormfang," he said. "We bring terms."
Kael watched the man. He watched the way the cloak moved, the way the man's hand rested on a hilt. He did not trust smooth words. He had spent his life not trusting smooth words.
"What terms?" Kael asked. His voice was flat, no show.
The leader gave a little bow. "Varek offers peace. We do not want blood spilled across our borders. Give the child to our care as a ward of the clan. In exchange, we leave your lands and take our men away."
Selene laughed, a small raw sound. "Give my son away? To Varek? Never."
The leader's face did not change. "He will be trained. Raised among those who can teach him power. He will be safe."
Kael saw Selene's jaw go tight. He heard the small boy behind her ask, "What is a ward?"
Ronan stepped forward, voice low. "A ward of Varek is a pawn. He breaks boys then raises them to do his will."
"Then we refuse," Kael said. He heard the old pack law tighten in his throat. He could feel Mara's eyes on him even though she was not here yet.
The leader moved a step closer into the lamplight. He unrolled a small cloth and set it on the threshold. Inside was a locket. Selene's locket. Silver, worn, with a strand of hair pressed inside.
Selene froze. Her hand went straight to it like it had life. "Where did you get that?" she whispered.
The man's smile was thin. "We found it at the edge of the northern stream. A woman's thing left behind. Little things tell stories, Alpha."
Kael's blood turned cold. He remembered the stream. Memory pulled him to the night he had let her go—her hair in his hands, the pack's faces like a wall. The locket should have been with Selene always. How had it crossed the ridge?
Before Kael could answer, a hush fell behind the cloaks. A figure stepped forward, tall and sure. Not Varek. Not one of his known men. The woman's cloak fell back. Kael's body tightened like steel. Mara Stormfang.
Her hair was black as always, a streak of silver at the temple. Her face was smooth and hard. The room felt smaller.
"Alpha Kael," she said, and she did not bow. "You were weak once. You left your Luna. You let shame into your house."
Selene's face went empty. "Mara—" she began.
"Silence." Mara's voice stopped the word like a blade. "You will not speak for the pack. The council has rules. A child born of an Alpha's blood must be accounted for. The law says the pack may test him to ensure purity. We come as the pack."
Kael's laugh was all edge. "You speak of law after you let lies rule your halls?"
Mara's eyes flashed. "I do not defend what you chose. I defend the pack. Varek offers terms that keep our borders safe. I accept them as acting Luna. If you refuse, the clan will move. We will hold a trial. The child will be taken."
Selene drew in a breath that hurt. "You would force a child?"
"We would protect the pack's future," Mara said. "You hide a child with possible taint. That cannot stand."
Kael's world narrowed. His hands went to his side, to the spot where his own sword usually balanced. He felt like a man atop a cliff. If he moved wrong, he would fall and take others with him.
Ronan's face went white. "This is not just law," he muttered. "This is a hand ready to pluck."
"Who sent you?" Kael demanded. "Varek? Or your own greed?"
Mara's smile was nothing kind. "I serve Stormfang. I put the pack first. Varek gave a clear offer. We can avoid war if we accept the child's warding."
Selene shoved forward. "You made tests that hurt me. You told the pack lies. You keep the wounds of the past open to make your throne sturdier."
Mara's finger lifted like a judge. "You left," she said. "You left the pack when the world needed you. You chose exile. The law does not bend for pride."
Selene's eyes burned. "I left for my child."
"You left your duty," Mara said. Her voice was cold. "A Luna who leaves makes the pack look weak. The pack must hold strong."
Kael wanted to strike her. He wanted to take her throat and rip the words from her mouth. He wanted to throw the locket into the fire. Instead he looked at Rowan, small and sounding like sleep, and he felt a raw thing in his chest.
"Tell me this," Kael said. "If I hand him over, how do I know he won't be used? How do I know Varek's men won't turn him into a weapon against me?"
The leader's hand went to his hilt like a promise. "Varek's men are not fools. They know a son of Stormfang is worth more alive than dead. He will be kept. He will be taught. He will be safe—if you accept terms."
"Safe," Selene said, like the word tasted like iron.
Lyra stepped forward, voice tight. "There is no safe where Varek rules."
Thorne's staff tapped the floor. "There is no safe where a child of Alpha is a prize."
Mara's eyes flicked to Thorne like a knife. "You are old, Elder. You do not know the ripples of borders."
Kael felt the pack press close behind him like a wall. He could see the outlines of men through the hut window—faces set and ready. He could feel a hundred small energies, each waiting for his word. He had to be Alpha in this moment, but being Alpha had not taught him how to fix the past.
He looked at Selene. She held Rowan like a fortress. The boy's breath made warm clouds in the cold air. His small mouth was open like a bell.
Kael's throat was dry. Words were thin. "If you take him," he said, "you take me with him."
Mara's laugh rang like metal. "We take what the pack demands. We will not be blackmailed by a man who wants to play father and leader at once."
Ronan made a sound in his throat. He was for movement—quick men, a strike to the throat—but Kael felt something else.
"We can fight," Ronan said. "We can throw them out now."
"But if we fight," Thorne said, "Varek will come. He will bring edge. He will bring wolves who know no mercy."
At the hut's far corner, Rowan shifted. His small eyes opened, bright with sleepy trust. He looked at Kael and asked the worst small question a child can ask a man: "Are they taking me?"
Selene's hand went to his face. Her eyes were bright like glass. She looked at Kael as if the answer would be written there.
Kael could have shouted. He could have ordered blood and fire and set the night on a war that would burn the north. He could have given himself to the blade.
Instead he felt a deep cold drop into him. Somewhere beyond the gate he heard a howl—a single long note that crawled like smoke. It was not Stormfang. It sounded like Varek threading the woods with his voice.
Mara's men shifted in the dark like they had been waiting for that sound. The leader smiled. "The clan hears our terms," he said. "Decide tonight, Alpha. Or we bring proof and make it law by force."
Kael's hands tightened. The hut smelled like smoke and old bread and fear. He felt the moment like a hinge—a door about to swing.
Selene's lips trembled. Rowan clung to her like a small anchor. Ronan's jaw worked. Lyra held herbs as if they were shields.
Kael's eyes slid to the locket on the threshold, a small silver thing that had slipped through secrets. The moon pressed cold on the world.
He lifted his head and spoke, the words moving like a blade and a plea at once. "You will not take him," he said.
Mara's mouth moved. The man at the gate took a step forward. Then, from just inside the dark, a noise rose up—sharp, small, and like a child's breath cut short.
A strangled cry. Rowan's voice.