The Steel Behind the Veil
1057 Words
Chapter 6:
Torin’s POV
I watched the tension leave Astraea’s shoulders, if only by a fraction, as the violet glow of the scrolls settled into a low, steady thrum. She was exhausted; I could see it in the slight tremor of her hands and the way she leaned almost imperceptibly toward her sister. The first shift into a wolf—into Nyxia—takes a toll that no Fae silk can cushion.
"That is enough for one night," I said, my voice sounding more like a growl than I intended. The protective instinct was clawing at my chest, demanding I spirit her away to the safest corner of the mountain.
I looked toward the shadows of the doorway, where a woman stood with the quiet, formidable grace of a mountain lion. "Luna."
Our head Omega stepped into the firelight. She was a woman of few words but possessed a strength that even the fiercest Alphas respected. She had been the one to prepare the royal guest wing, a place where stone met soft furs and the air was thick with the scent of calming lavender and cedar.
"Show the Princess—the Queen—to her chambers," I commanded, nodding toward Astraea and Elara. "And the Lady Elara as well. Ensure they have everything they need. Dinner will be served in the Great Hall in one hour. I expect you both to be there, but for now, rest."
Astraea looked at me, her violet eyes lingering on mine for a heartbeat longer than necessary. There was a question in them, a silent plea for me to follow, but she saw the look on my father’s face. She knew the soldiers had to speak.
"One hour, Torin," she whispered.
"I’ll be right behind you," I promised.
I watched them leave, the silver of Elara’s hair and the deep violet of Astraea’s torn gown disappearing into the torch-lit corridor. The moment the heavy oak doors clicked shut, the atmosphere in the library shifted. The warmth of the hearth seemed to evaporate, replaced by the cold, metallic scent of a war room.
My father, King Kaelen, let out a breath that sounded like a tectonic plate shifting. He leaned over the table, his massive hands splayed across the map of the borderlands.
"The Shroud is thinning," the King said, his voice dropping an octave. "But the Fae Queen will not sit idly by while her 'property' is claimed by the Lycan mountains. Kael, what is the report from the north?"
Kael, his eyes like flint, stepped forward. "The border is a hornets' nest, Sire. My scouts report that the 'Silent Ones' are moving in formations we haven't seen since the Unraveling. They aren't just patrolling; they’re building a wall of silver mist that burns any Lycan who touches it. They’re trying to suffocate the mountain."
"They won't get through," I snapped, my claws involuntarily extending, scraping against the wood of the table. "I’ve stationed three companies of our best warriors at the Whispering Woods pass. If a single Fae wing flutters across that line, we’ll bring them down."
"It isn't just about the border, Torin," Myra interrupted, her milky eyes fixed on the fire. She looked smaller now, the weight of the prophecy leaning heavy on her. "Astraea is the prize, yes, but she is also the weapon. If she doesn't master the Witch-spirit by the next full moon, her own power will begin to tear her apart. The Tri-Blood magic is a storm. Without an anchor, a storm destroys the house it was meant to protect."
"Then we begin the training tomorrow," I said, looking from Myra to my father. "I’ll take her to the Upper Crags. She needs to learn how to lead Nyxia, not just endure the shift. If she can't control the wolf, she can't command the light."
"And the Witch-craft?" Kael asked. "Myra, can she really unweave a three-hundred-year-old spell?"
"She has to," Myra said. "But it will require her to face her mother. The Shroud is anchored to the Queen’s heart. Astraea won't just be fighting soldiers; she’ll be fighting the woman who raised her."
My father looked at me, his amber eyes searching mine. "You are her shield, Torin. That was the vow. But remember that a shield that holds too tight can also be a cage. She needs to be the Queen we’ve waited for, not just a girl we’ve saved."
I felt the weight of his words settle in my gut. He was right. I wanted to lock her in the highest tower and kill anyone who breathed her name, but that wasn't what the Blueprint demanded.
"I know my duty, Father," I said, my voice hardening. "I will teach her the hunt. I will show her how to use the mountain as a weapon. And if the Fae Queen wants her back, she’ll have to walk through the fire of the entire Lycan pack to get her."
Kael nodded, a grim smile touching his scarred face. "The warriors are restless, Prince. They’ve been told for generations that the 'Bloom' would come. Now that she’s here, they’re ready to prove that the Lycans never forgot how to fight a war of light."
"Double the patrols," I commanded, looking at Kael. "I want eyes on every shadow from the Silver Vaults to the Great River. If the Silent Ones so much as sneeze, I want to know about it."
"Consider it done," Kael replied, slamming his fist against his chest before turning to exit.
I looked back at the fire, the image of Astraea’s violet eyes burned into my mind. In one hour, I would have to sit across from her at dinner and pretend the world wasn't about to end. I would have to be the Prince she needed, while the General inside me prepared for the blood that was destined to spill.
"Go," my father said softly. "The hour is moving fast. Be with her while the peace still holds."
I didn't need to be told twice. I turned and strode out of the library, my mind already calculating the terrain of the Upper Crags, while my heart was already three hallways ahead, waiting at the door of her chambers.
The war was coming. But tonight, she was safe. And for a Lycan, that was the only victory that mattere
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