Chapter 5: The Flicker and the Forge
1540 Words
The night air outside the dining hall was thick with frost and with the kind of tension that clings to the skin long after you’ve left the battlefield. Thalia’s nerves vibrated with every footstep as Rowan led her from the council chamber, his hand still warm against the small of her back—a touch meant for the council’s benefit, she told herself, but one that lingered long after it should have.
The doors shut behind them with a dull thud. For a moment, they stood in the corridor, lit only by lanterns burning low, their shadows cast tall and sharp across the pine floors.
Rowan let his hand fall away first, jaw tight, eyes fixed ahead. “You did well in there,” he said quietly.
Thalia snorted, running a hand through her hair. “So did you. I didn’t even see your hackles rise.”
She tried for flippant, but her hands shook faintly. The council’s stares felt tattooed on her skin.
Rowan’s lips twitched—a not-quite-smile. “Trust me, I was tempted. They’ll watch us both. Especially you.”
“Oh, I noticed,” she muttered. “I could practically hear them measuring me for a shallow grave.”
He didn’t deny it. “Silverpine doesn’t trust outsiders. That’s not going to change overnight.”
They moved down the corridor together. For the first time since her arrival, Thalia could really look at the packhouse—the little details missed in the blur of nerves and danger. Carved wolves danced across the lintels, each one different; along the hallway walls, ancient runes had been worn half away by time and by hands far rougher than hers. She trailed her fingers along the grainy surface, half-expecting it to buzz with latent magic, but nothing stirred except her own racing heart.
At the next turn, a voice called out: “Thalia! Wait up!”
It was the servant girl from dinner, hair tumbling loose around her face, eyes bright as spring water even in the dim lamplight.
Rowan slowed, wary, but Thalia couldn’t help her grin. “If you’re here to drag me back for dishes, I warn you—I’m useless with grease.”
The girl laughed, a real laugh, not the brittle, political kind Thalia had heard all night. “Name’s Mara. And don’t worry, you’ve already survived the worst part. I just thought you might need an escape plan. Or at least a cookie.”
She held out a napkin-wrapped bundle.
Thalia peeked inside—ginger, honey, and something warm, a scent from a childhood she barely remembered.
“You’re my favorite person,” Thalia declared solemnly, taking a bite. “If the council kills me, make sure I get buried with these.”
Mara grinned wider. “Deal. But you’ll be fine. The council’s mostly bark, though Marek’s bite is nasty when he’s hungry.”
Rowan eyed Mara with something close to suspicion. “You’re not meant to be in this wing after curfew.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m not meant to do a lot of things, Alpha. But it’s amazing what people overlook if you smile and carry a tray.”
Thalia liked her instantly. Mara had a quick wit, but beneath the humor was a watchfulness Thalia recognized.
Survivor’s eyes, she thought. The kind who notices everything—and remembers it all later.
Rowan relented with a grunt. “Just don’t get caught.”
“Too late for that,” Mara replied. “Besides, you’re not the scariest thing in this house.”
Her eyes flicked to Thalia, warm and curious. “I heard you had the whole council on edge. That’s no small feat.”
Thalia managed a cocky shrug. “What can I say? I have a talent for trouble.”
They walked together for a few moments more, Mara gossiping quietly about the inner workings of Silverpine—who was sleeping with whom, which councilors hated each other, and which warriors thought they could drink Rowan under the table (none, apparently, had succeeded).
As they passed the servants’ quarters, Mara hesitated. “Look, if you ever need anything—word gets around. But not all of it’s true. Most here are decent, or at least bored. But there are some you should watch for.”
She leaned closer, whispering, “Stay clear of Livia if you can. She holds a grudge longer than winter.”
At the mention of Livia, Thalia’s stomach tightened. Before she could ask more, voices echoed from the corridor ahead.
Livia herself strode around the corner, flanked by two of the brutes who’d helped capture Thalia the night she’d arrived. Her eyes were the gray of old snow, cold and cutting.
“Well, if it isn’t the new house pet,” Livia sneered, stopping dead in their path. “Shouldn’t you be chained up somewhere, outsider?”
Mara stepped between them with a practiced smile. “Council’s orders, Livia. Thalia’s the alpha’s guest. Play nice.”
One of Livia’s companions—a tall, sharp-nosed man with scars on his knuckles—snorted. “You hear that? The alpha’s little project comes with a babysitter.”
Thalia drew herself up, refusing to back down. “I’m nobody’s pet. But if you want to fetch my slippers, I’ll be sure to tip.”
Livia’s nostrils flared. “Careful, witch.”
Mara’s hand tightened on Thalia’s elbow. “Ignore her. She’s just upset she didn’t get to sit next to the alpha at dinner.”
Rowan’s tone was glacial. “That’s enough. Livia, get back to your patrol.”
Livia held Rowan’s gaze a fraction too long before finally turning away, her posse in tow. “This isn’t over,” she tossed over her shoulder.
“Not if I can help it,” Mara muttered, half for Thalia, half for herself.
As the corridor quieted, Thalia let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
“Are they always that charming?” she asked, shaking her head.
Mara grinned. “You have no idea. Come on—I’ll show you the good window for stargazing before you get locked away for the night. You look like you could use the fresh air.”
They ducked into a little alcove, window cracked open to the scent of frost and pine resin. Thalia perched on the ledge, clutching her cookie like a shield.
Mara leaned beside her, swinging her legs. “So, what’s your deal, really? You’re not from any of the local packs.”
Thalia hesitated, glancing sideways. “Borderlands. Wandering, mostly. Ran out of places to hide, I guess.”
Mara studied her face for a moment, then nodded. “That’s fair. I used to be from south of the river. My mother was a healer—until the fever took her. After that, I wandered too. Silverpine’s not so bad, once you know how to stay invisible.”
Thalia heard more in that confession than Mara let on. “Is that why you help the strays?”
Mara shrugged, a smile flickering across her mouth. “Maybe. Or maybe I just like making the council uncomfortable.”
They sat together for a while, watching the stars. The world was still and oddly peaceful. Thalia found herself relaxing, for the first time in what felt like years.
The moment didn’t last. Rowan’s footsteps echoed down the hall, purposeful and certain.
“Time for the grand tour?” Thalia asked as he approached.
He nodded. “You’ll sleep in the guest suite, across from my quarters. There’s a guard at each end of the hall. For your safety and everyone else’s.”
Mara winked. “You mean to keep her out, or keep the rest of you safe from her?”
Rowan almost smiled. “Both.”
They walked together up the wide staircase, Mara and Thalia whispering the whole way—Mara offering tidbits about the best hiding spots, the quietest routes to the kitchens, which guards could be bribed with pie.
When they reached Thalia’s room, Mara gave her a quick hug. “Try to sleep, troublemaker. Don’t let the wolves bite.”
Thalia clung to the warmth of the gesture. “Thanks. For the cookie. And everything.”
Mara’s eyes crinkled. “Any time. I’ll check in on you. And if you ever need to slip out, the north window latch is always loose.”
She slipped away with a final wave, leaving Thalia at the threshold of her new prison.
Rowan stood silent a moment, then opened the door for her.
The room was unexpectedly nice: a carved bed layered with thick furs, a fireplace stacked for lighting, shelves lined with well-worn books and a battered armchair by the window.
A wolf’s attempt at comfort, maybe, or just another trap.
She dropped her things at the foot of the bed, then turned to Rowan, arms crossed. “So. I passed the council, survived Livia, and got a new friend. What’s the catch?”
He studied her, face unreadable. “You’ll need all the friends you can get. The council will try to find cracks. Livia too. They won’t stop until they break you, or until you prove you can’t be broken.”
- Writer
