MINE TO UNCHAIN

Nine

POV: Wren

The howl came a third time.

Closer.

Kael stepped in front of me, shoulders tense, one hand curled around the iron key.

"Stay behind me."

"I'm not a child."

"I know. Stay behind me anyway."

My wolf bristled inside my chest.

We don't hide.

We're barefoot and wearing his shirt, I thought back.

We don't hide, she repeated, with great dignity.

Branches cracked in the dark.

Then a shape burst from the trees.

A wolf.

Huge, dark silver, with eyes the same pale gold as mine.

She skidded to a stop on the bank, ears flat, lips peeled back from long white teeth.

Kael didn't move.

"Easy," he said quietly. "Easy. I'm not hunting."

The wolf's gaze flicked from him to me.

It lingered.

Her nostrils flared.

Then the air shimmered, bones rolled and fur melted, and a woman stood where the wolf had been.

She was maybe thirty-five, tall and lean, with a scar slashed across one cheek and a long dark braid wrapped around her throat like a scarf.

She wore nothing but a leather sash and a bow slung across her back.

Her eyes were gold.

"Kael," she said hoarsely.

Every muscle in his body went slack.

"Ysolde?"

"You stubborn, impossible boy."

She crossed the bank in four strides and hit him with a hug so hard it knocked the breath out of him.

Kael staggered.

Then, slowly, his arms came up around her.

I stood there, dripping, holding his shirt closed, feeling like I'd walked into a room full of strangers' memories.

"I thought you were dead," Kael said into her shoulder.

"I thought you were."

"Eight years."

"Eight years," Ysolde agreed, pulling back to frame his face in her scarred hands. "Eight years of nothing, and tonight a Moonborn wolf howls like the moon itself cracked open. I knew it had to be you. Or..."

Her eyes slid to me.

"Or her."

The air changed.

I felt her gaze like a hand pressed against my chest.

"This is her," Ysolde breathed. "The last daughter."

"Wren," Kael said. "This is Ysolde. She was my mother's sister-in-arms. She taught me to hunt."

"She taught you to survive," Ysolde corrected, her mouth twitching. "The hunting you did on your own, usually the wrong rabbit."

Despite everything, I almost smiled.

Ysolde's gaze moved over my face, slowly, like she was memorizing it.

"You have your mother's eyes," she said softly.

My heart stuttered.

"You knew my mother?"

"Everyone knew your mother."

"Then you can tell me who sealed—"

"Ysolde." Kael's voice cut in, flat and sharp. "We don't have time."

She frowned at him.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Not now."

"Kael—"

"Not now."

Their eyes locked.

Something silent passed between them.

Something that made Ysolde's gold eyes narrow, then flick toward me, then back.

Understanding.

"Ah," she said quietly.

My stomach tightened.

"Ah, what?"

"Nothing, little wolf."

"That wasn't nothing."

"It's not mine to tell." Ysolde's voice gentled. "But he has his reasons. Good ones, I think. Give him time."

I stared at Kael.

He wouldn't look at me.

Heat built behind my eyes.

It was exhausting, being the only one in every room who didn't know the truth.

"Fine," I said, my voice shaking. "Then tell me something that is yours to tell."

Ysolde considered that.

"Cassian."

Kael's head snapped up.

"What about him?"

"The Council took him."

My breath caught.

"He's alive?"

"He was when I left." Ysolde's jaw tightened. "They dragged him out of that vault in silver chains. He fought like a wolf possessed. Took six of them to put him down."

Guilt hit me like a wave.

"Because of me."

"Because of them," Kael said fiercely. "Don't take that on."

"And Maren?"

Ysolde hesitated.

"She stood in the middle of the fight and didn't lift a hand. When the Council's wolves tried to run after you, she told them the pool led nowhere. That it was a dead end."

"Did they believe her?"

"For a while."

"Then why are you here?"

"Because the key tells them where you are."

Silence.

Kael's fingers tightened around the iron key.

"What?"

Ysolde nodded at it.

"That's no ordinary key. It's Elder-made. It's bound to a lock somewhere in the pack's lands, and anyone who holds one can be found by anyone holding the other."

Kael stared at the key like it had bitten him.

"Maren gave it to me."

"Yes."

"She threw it at me."

"I know."

"She's tracking us," I whispered.

"Or she's the only one who ever could," Ysolde said. "I can't tell which. But either way, the Council's trackers carry the matching half. They'll be here before dawn."

My throat went dry.

She said forgive me, I thought.

Forgive me for what?

For drugging me?

For sending us into the water?

For this?

"Throw it in the river," I said.

Kael didn't move.

"Kael."

"It opens something," he said slowly. "Maren wouldn't have given it to me for nothing. If I destroy it..."

"If you don't, they'll find us."

"Wren—"

"Throw it."

He stared at me.

Then he wound back his arm.

But before he could throw, a horn sounded.

Deep.

Mournful.

Far off through the trees.

Ysolde's head snapped toward it.

"They're early."

Another horn answered it.

Then another.

From three directions at once.

"They've surrounded the bank," Kael said hoarsely.

"Not yet." Ysolde slid the bow from her shoulder, her face cold. "Wren. Can you shift again?"

I hesitated.

We can, my wolf said calmly.

"Yes."

"Good. Kael, give me the key."

"What are you going to—"

"Trust me."

He did.

Ysolde held the key flat in her palm, whispered a few words in a language older than any I knew, and the iron turned white-hot.

It cracked.

Then it split in two.

Light poured out of it, thin and silver, rising into the air like a flare.

"That," Ysolde said grimly, "was the lock's other half."

"What does that mean?"

"It means the Council now knows exactly where you are."

Kael cursed.

Ysolde grabbed my wrist.

"Run."

And in the dark, a hundred wolves began to howl.