The tankard hit the table hard and the hall exploded with rough cheers. Matthías slammed his down next, foam splashing, and roared something about burning the elders' balls off. Nina laughed like she meant it. Sunna just shook her head at me, small smile tugging her lips, but her eyes stayed worried. I drank with them, the sour ale burning down my throat, and felt the fire in my chest answer like it was toasting right back.
Gunnar didn't cheer. He just watched me over the rim of his cup, silver eyes steady. The bond hummed between us, low and warm, like a second heartbeat I couldn't ignore anymore. My scales itched where they climbed my shoulder, but the touch of his gaze made the itch settle. I set my tankard down harder than I meant to.
"Enough celebrating," Gunnar said, voice cutting through the noise. "We hit them once. They'll hit back harder. Get some sleep. We train at first light."
Chairs scraped. Warriors filed out, slapping backs and muttering plans. Sunna squeezed my shoulder on her way past. "Don't push it tonight, Elva. The power's still raw." She glanced at Gunnar, then back at me. "And don't push him either. Not yet."
I flipped her off half-heartedly. She grinned and left.
The hall emptied fast until it was just me and Gunnar and the dying fire. He stood up, chair legs scraping stone, and jerked his chin toward the side door. "Come on. You're not sleeping in the guest room anymore."
My stomach flipped. "Bossy much?"
"Practical." He didn't wait. Just started walking. I followed because arguing felt pointless and the bond tugged me after him anyway.
His quarters were at the end of a short stone corridor: big room, low ceiling, heavy furs on the bed and a single lantern burning low. No fancy shit. Just weapons on the wall, a map pinned beside the window, and the faint smell of pine smoke that was pure Gunnar. He kicked the door shut behind us and turned.
"You're shaking," he said.
"Adrenaline." I flexed my right hand. Claws slid out an inch, then back in. "Or the scales deciding they like me now. Or maybe it's the fact I just clawed my own father across the chest and didn't feel a damn thing."
Gunnar crossed the room in two steps. He caught my wrist, thumb pressing over the silver scales. The contact sent heat straight up my arm and into my chest. The bond flared brighter, pulling us closer without either of us moving.
"You felt something," he said quietly. "I saw your face when he hit the ground. You hesitated."
I yanked my hand free but didn't step back. "He stopped being my father the night he let Sveinn throw me in that cell. I'm not sorry."
"Good." Gunnar's voice dropped lower. "Because sorry gets you killed out here."
He turned away and started unbuckling the straps on his leather armor. I watched the way his shoulders moved, the old scars catching the lantern light. My mouth went dry. The bond didn't care that we were both covered in dirt and someone else's blood. It just wanted skin on skin.
I pulled off my own torn tunic and tossed it on the chair. The clean one underneath was already stained at the collar. "Sunna said the bond's the only thing that keeps this power from tearing me apart. That true?"
Gunnar glanced over his shoulder. His eyes traced the scales on my shoulder, down my arm, then back up to my face. "Yeah. My line was meant to anchor yours. Old kings and their queens. Two halves. Finish the bond and you control it. Halfway like we are now… it leaks. Makes you stronger but unstable."
I sat on the edge of the bed and tugged my boots off. "And finishing it means we fuck. Simple as that."
He barked a short laugh and dropped his armor on the rack. "Nothing about this is simple, Elva. The moon picked us. The elders want us dead for it. Your father's probably riding back right now screaming that we're the end of every pack he knows."
I lay back on the furs, arms behind my head, staring at the ceiling beams. "Then we make it worth their fear."
The bed dipped when he sat beside me. Close. Not touching yet. "You sure you're ready for that? Last week you were rotting in a cell because some weak Alpha couldn't handle what you are."
"Last week I didn't have claws that could open the ground." I turned my head to look at him. "And I didn't have you."
His hand settled on my stomach, heavy and warm through the thin shirt. The bond surged so hard my breath caught. Scales rippled along my arm like they were answering him. He felt it too. His thumb traced slow circles just under my ribs.
"Careful," he said, voice rough. "You push that power right now and we'll crack the floor."
I covered his hand with mine. Claws out just enough to prick. "Then don't make me wait."
He leaned down slow, giving me time to pull away. I didn't. His mouth met mine and the kiss wasn't gentle. It was teeth and heat and all the shit we'd both been holding back since he dragged me out of that cell. The bond exploded between us; fire and pine smoke and the low growl in his chest that I felt more than heard.
My scales spread a little further, down to my elbow, but they didn't hurt. They felt right. I grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him closer. He tasted like ale and blood and the promise of every fight still coming. When we broke apart we were both breathing hard.
Gunnar rested his forehead against mine. "Not tonight. Not when you're still bleeding from the raid. But soon. When you're steady."
I wanted to argue. The bond sure as hell did. But my body felt heavy in the good way and the fire inside had settled into something calmer, like it finally had an anchor.
"Fine," I muttered. "But I'm sleeping here. No more separate rooms."
His mouth twitched again. Almost a smile. "Bossy."
"You started it."
He pulled the furs over us and killed the lantern. In the dark his hand found mine and stayed there. The bond hummed steady between our palms. Outside the window the moon hung low, full and silver, watching us the same way it had watched my rejection night. Only this time it felt like approval.
Sleep came fast, deeper than it had any right to after everything.
I woke to knocking.
Hard and urgent.
Gunnar was already up, sword in hand, pulling on pants. "What?"
Matthías's voice came through the door, low and tight. "King. Scouts just rode in. Elders didn't wait a week. They're moving. Big column. Three hundred wolves plus the full Black Council. They'll hit the outer border by tomorrow night. And they've got something else with them. Big. Covered in chains. Smells like old magic."
I sat up fast, scales catching the weak dawn light through the window. The fire in my chest woke with me, brighter now, steadier after last night's kiss.
Gunnar looked at me over his shoulder. "Looks like your father delivered the message faster than we thought."
I swung my legs off the bed and reached for my boots. "Then we answer it."
He nodded once, eyes hard but the bond between us warm and sure. "Gear up. We ride at noon. This time we don't raid. We meet them head on."
I stood up and flexed my hand. Claws slid out clean and black. The scales on my arm gleamed like fresh-forged steel.
Jakob wanted a war.
The elders wanted me dead.
Fine.
I'd give them both exactly what they asked for.
And this time the Lycan King wouldn't be fighting alone.