Kaevryn's POV
The gates of Valkyren opened before us slowly, carved stone dragging against stone beneath the cry of winter winds.
Home.
The scent reached me first.
Burning cedar. Roasted meat. Pine smoke.
Wolf Clan territory.
My horse slowed as we crossed the bridge over the frozen river, and for the first time since leaving the Ice Clan, the tension in my shoulders loosened.
Beside me, Elyasan stared ahead silently.
Her black hair with those golden strands danced in the wind, moonlight trapped in strands of snow.
She looked exhausted.
But alive.
That alone should have eased me.
It did not.
Because the moment the guards above the walls spotted us, the entire fortress erupted.
"HIS HIGHNESS HAS RETURNED!"
A horn sounded.
Then another.
The courtyard flooded with people before we even fully dismounted.
Warriors.
Servants.
Children.
Elders.
The Wolf Clan did not welcome their blood quietly.
And unfortunately for Elyasan, they noticed her immediately.
"Well now—"
My uncle's loud voice boomed through the courtyard before I could even remove my gloves.
"There is finally a woman beside our prince!"
Laughter exploded around us.
Elyasan blinked in surprise as several women rushed toward her before she could even process what was happening.
"Oh, she is beautiful."
"Look at her eyes!"
"She's freezing—someone get her a fur!"
One elderly woman pushed through the crowd and grabbed Elyasan's cheeks firmly between both hands.
"She's too thin," the woman declared dramatically. "Kaevryn, if this girl does not return to flesh before spring, we shall assume you starved her."
The courtyard burst into louder laughter.
And to my complete disbelief—
Elyasan laughed too.
Not politely.
Not cautiously.
A real laugh.
Soft and bright.
Something in my chest shifted painfully at the sound.
Gods.
I had not realized how rarely she laughed.
"My lady," another woman said while wrapping a thick fur cloak around Elyasan's shoulders, "ignore these fools. The men of this clan only know battle and breeding."
"HEY!"
More laughter.
Elyasan covered her mouth, trying—and failing—not to smile.
Then my father descended the palace steps.
The courtyard quieted instantly.
Alpha King Vaelor.
Tall. Broad. Silver beginning to touch his dark hair.
His presence alone could silence armies.
Yet when his eyes landed on Elyasan, warmth replaced the sharpness in them.
"So," he said calmly, "this is the girl my son crossed mountains for."
Elyasan straightened immediately.
Your Majesty—
Before she could bow fully, my father interrupted.
"You bow too much already." His voice softened. "You survived the Ice Clan. That alone earns you rest in my home."
Her eyes widened slightly.
I watched her carefully then.
That small expression.
That quiet disbelief whenever kindness was shown to her.
As though she still expected cruelty after every gentle word.
It stirred violence inside me.
My father stepped closer.
"You are welcome among wolves, Elyasan."
Simple words.
Yet the entire courtyard echoed with approving growls and nods.
A Wolf Clan welcome.
Sacred.
Permanent.
And Elyasan looked completely overwhelmed by it.
Then came my aunt.
"Oh heavens," she gasped dramatically, staring between us. "Kaevryn, she is beautiful enough to start wars."
"She already did," my cousin muttered.
The warriors barked with laughter.
Elyasan looked horrified.
I nearly smiled.
Nearly.
Then my younger cousins crowded around her immediately.
"Did you truly survive the frozen sanctuaries?"
"Can you use Ice Clan magic?"
"Did Kaevryn kill anyone for you?"
"That one is important," another added seriously.
Elyasan blinked before glancing at me.
Then, surprisingly—
"Yes."
The courtyard erupted.
I stared at her.
She hid a smile behind her hand.
Traitor.
"She speaks!" my uncle roared. "And she has humor! Kaevryn, marry her immediately before another clan steals her."
"Uncle," I warned flatly.
"Ah, there it is," he sighed. "The prince who smiles only once every ten winters."
"I smile."
"No," several voices answered together.
Elyasan laughed again.
Gods.
The sound ruined me.
Then—
"Well."
The voice cut through the warmth like a blade.
My sister.
Princess Seraphine stood at the top of the stairs draped in black wolf fur, gold jewelry glittering against pale skin.
Beautiful.
Cold.
Her eyes moved over Elyasan slowly.
Too slowly.
"So this is the Ice Clan stray."
The courtyard quieted slightly.
Elyasan's smile faded.
I felt my jaw tighten instantly.
"Seraphine," my father warned.
But my sister only descended the steps gracefully.
"You bring home many strange things from war, brother," she said lightly. "Though this one is admittedly prettier than the others."
Elyasan lowered her gaze respectfully.
Wrong move.
Seraphine smelled weakness like blood in snow.
"I suppose the priests finally grew tired of feeding unwanted daughters."
"Enough."
The word left my mouth colder than winter steel.
My sister's eyes flicked to me.
Amusement danced there.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Because Seraphine knew me.
And she knew I never defended anyone.
Especially not publicly.
Elyasan looked stunned.
So did half the courtyard.
Seraphine smiled slowly.
"Oh?" she murmured. "You care."
"I said enough."
For a moment silence stretched between us.
Then my father spoke sharply.
"Seraphine."
She sighed dramatically before stepping aside.
"As you wish, Father." Her gaze returned to Elyasan. "Welcome to Valkyren."
The words sounded like a threat.
Elyasan noticed.
I noticed her noticing.
Good.
She would need caution around my sister.
The tension broke quickly after that when my uncle shoved a cup of warm spiced wine into Elyasan's hands.
"Drink," he ordered. "You are among wolves now. We celebrate survival loudly."
And somehow—
Somehow—
Within minutes Elyasan was smiling again.
Talking.
Listening.
My cousins dragged her toward the massive courtyard fires while the older women fussed over her frozen hands.
One of them whispered something that made Elyasan choke on her drink.
"What did she say?" I asked dryly.
My cousin grinned wickedly.
"She asked how many heirs you plan to give the clan."
The courtyard exploded into cheers.
Elyasan nearly died from embarrassment.
And for the first time in years—
I laughed.
A real one.
Low and brief.
But enough.
The entire courtyard froze.
My uncle pointed at me in horror.
"Did the prince just smile?"
"No," another gasped. "Worse. He laughed."
"Quick," my aunt cried dramatically. "Someone write this day down!"
Even Elyasan stared at me in shock.
Then slowly—
Very slowly—
She smiled at me.
Not nervous.
Not cautious.
Warm.
The sight hit harder than any battlefield wound.
And in that moment, surrounded by my clan's laughter and firelight, I realized something dangerous.
Elyasan already looked like she belonged here.
With us.
With me.
—
Later that night, servants guided us separately through the palace halls toward the bathing chambers.
The heat from the stone floors rose pleasantly beneath my boots while torchlight painted gold across dark walls.
When I entered my chambers, steam already filled the room.
The scent of cedar and winter herbs lingered in the water.
But I stopped moving when I noticed her standing near the balcony doors.
Elyasan.
Fresh from her bath.
Her damp black inked with golden strands hair fell freely down her back, and she wore soft wolf-clan linen far too large for her smaller frame.
She turned at the sound of my footsteps.
And for a moment neither of us spoke.
The fire crackled softly between us.
"You should rest," I said eventually.
"I should," she admitted.
Yet she did not move.
Neither did I.
Moonlight spilled across her skin as snow drifted quietly beyond the balcony.
Peaceful.
Fragile.
Dangerously intimate.
"You laughed today," she said softly.
I exhaled once through my nose.
"So I've been told."
"It suited you."
Something tightened in my chest again.
Elyasan stepped closer slowly.
"You are different here."
"This is my home."
"No," she whispered gently. "This is your family."
The words struck deeper than she realized.
Because she spoke them with longing.
Not observation.
I looked at her then truly looked.
At the loneliness she carried so carefully.
At the exhaustion hidden beneath her composure.
At the quiet wonder still lingering in her eyes after being welcomed by people who owed her nothing.
And before I could stop myself—
I reached for her.
My fingers brushed a damp strand of hair from her cheek slowly.
Her breath caught.
Mine nearly did too.
"You looked happy tonight," I murmured.
Elyasan's eyes softened.
"I forgot what that felt like."
Dangerous.
Those words were dangerous.
Because something possessive and ancient inside me answered immediately.
Then keep it.
Keep this place.
Keep us.
My thumb brushed lightly against her skin.
Her eyes fluttered briefly.
The fire cracked behind us.
Slowly, carefully, I rested my forehead against hers.
No throne.
No war.
No clans.
Just warmth.
Just her breathing against mine.
And for one impossible moment—
The world became quiet enough for peace.
Before chaos found us again.