Dawn came cold and red.
I stood on the castle steps in Damien’s coat. It swallowed me. Smelled like him. Pine and winter and blood from yesterday. My side was wrapped tight. Each breath still cut. But I stood straight.
Below, the courtyard filled with wolves. Hundreds. Every pack that knelt yesterday. North Pack. Frost Ridge. The rest. All armed. All watching.
Damien stood beside me. Not in front. Beside. His hand didn’t touch me. But his shoulder did. Warm. Solid.
“Ready?” he asked. Quiet. Just for me.
“No,” I said truthfully. “But we go anyway.”
He nodded once. Then stepped forward. Voice carried by power to every ear.
“Today we ride,” he said. “Not for blood. For rules. The Frost Wolf dens that burned villages will burn. The men who killed pups will die. But the women. The childr
