Next In Line
1510 Words
Ashen.
Ravenna’s smile widened, but there was something measuring in her eyes now. Moon did not flinch from her. Did not retreat. Did not hide behind me. She stood at my side as if being surrounded by a hostile pack, a dethroned vampire queen, and a bloodline crisis was simply a difficult afternoon.
Storm moved beneath Moon’s skin.
I felt her through the bond.
Not jealousy exactly.
Not fear.
A warning.
Mine.
Ravenna looked at me again, slow and irritating.
“Now that,” she murmured, “is a good look on you.”
Moon’s head turned.
My brows drew together. “What is?”
“Standing there like you don’t know whether to apologize or conquer something.”
Solan muttered, “That is disturbingly accurate.”
Moon’s voice cooled. “Ravenna.”
The vampire placed a hand over her heart. “Do not worry, princess. I flirt with people I dislike. It keeps the room honest.”
“You dislike him?”
“I am contractually obligated to be loyal to him. Dislike is all I have left.”
Her eyes flashed toward me.
And for the first time, through the strange blood-link between us, I felt something from her.
A flicker.
Not affection.
Not softness.
Interest.
Sharp as a fang.
Then she shoved it away so hard I nearly felt the door slam.
Get out of my head, Snow Prince.
I stiffened.
“I wasn’t trying to be there.”
Yes, well, your cursed ring disagrees.
Moon looked between us. “What did she say?”
Ravenna smiled sweetly. “Private insult.”
“It concerns my mate.”
“Oh, then by all means, glare harder. I nearly felt respected.”
Solan leaned toward me. “This will end badly.”
“I know.”
“Good. As long as we are all informed.”
The elder raised a hand, and the pack quieted.
“You cannot remain at the border.”
“I came for answers,” I said. “My mother’s letter told me to find her brother.”
“You found one,” the elder said. “Not the one with answers.”
My chest tightened.
“What does that mean?”
“It means Elowyn’s story does not live in the outskirts.” His gaze moved over me, heavy with things unsaid. “It lives deeper in Frostveil. In the palace. In the old court. With those who buried her name and built claims over her absence.”
Claims.
The word landed, and suddenly I understood the eyes on me differently.
Not only fear.
Calculation.
Elowyn’s line had been believed dead.
My line.
Nara’s line.
And if we were dead, other Frostveil branches could rise.
Other sons.
Other daughters.
Other cousins and uncles and blood-proud wolves who had spent years believing the throne had moved closer to their hands.
Then I stepped out of the forest with my mother’s ring and a voice that made them bare their necks.
I had not come for a throne.
But they did not know that.
And worse, they might not care.
Ravenna gave a soft, delighted hum.
“Oh, I know that look. That is inheritance panic. Very common among royal families. Deliciously ugly.”
Moon’s grip tightened around mine.
“You knew Elowyn had children,” she said to the elder.
His face tightened.
“We knew she had borne children in SilvaFrost. We were told many things after that. That they died. That they were cursed. That they were hidden because the White Wolf line had become unstable.” He looked at me. “That if one ever returned, Frostveil would either kneel or burn.”
The pack went silent.
I felt every eye on me.
Auron shifted somewhere deep inside the dark.
Tired.
Chained.
Listening.
“I did not come to burn anything,” I said.
The elder studied me.
“No. That may be what makes you dangerous.”
I frowned.
Solan exhaled. “I hate when old men say ominous things and refuse to explain them.”
The elder ignored him.
“You will come to the outer settlement,” he said. “You and your companions will be watched. Word will be sent deeper into Frostveil.”
“To the palace?” Moon asked.
A few wolves flinched at the way she said it.
Like a LunariaNova princess had no right to speak of their palace.
The elder nodded slowly.
“If the central court answers, they will decide whether Elowyn’s son is welcomed, tested, or executed.”
Ravenna clicked her tongue. “Charming family.”
I looked at the elder.
“And my uncle?”
His gaze turned toward the trees again.
“Prince Kaelor will return when he chooses.”
Veyra’s expression darkened.
“He has children,” she said quietly to me. “Children who were raised believing their branch would rise if Elowyn’s remained dead.”
Remained dead.
I looked toward the place where Kaelor had disappeared.
“So I am a problem.”
Ravenna laughed softly. “Darling, you are a succession crisis with cheekbones.”
Moon’s eyes flashed.
“Enough.”
Ravenna’s smile held, but her gaze lingered on Moon with fresh amusement.
“Oh, I like you better when you bare teeth.”
Moon stepped toward her.
I moved between them without thinking.
Not because Moon needed saving.
Because I could feel both of their tempers sharpening, and the entire pack was watching.
Ravenna looked up at me from beneath dark lashes.
“There it is again.”
“What?”
“That look.” Her voice lowered. “Like you are trying to protect everyone from everyone, including themselves.”
Moon’s voice went cold behind me. “He does not need your commentary.”
“No,” Ravenna said. “But he is getting it for free.”
Through the blood-link, her next thought brushed mine before she could stop it.
For a wolf, he really is annoyingly pretty when tense.
I stared at her.
Her eyes widened.
Then narrowed.
“Do not repeat that.”
Moon’s gaze snapped to me. “Repeat what?”
“Nothing.”
Ravenna smiled.
Solan looked like he might be enjoying himself too much.
“This,” he said, “is becoming my favorite disaster.”
The elder cleared his throat.
“Enough.”
For once, everyone listened.
The pack parted, leaving a narrow path toward the settlement beyond the black pines.
As we began to move, the wolves watched me.
No one knelt this time.
No one bared their neck.
But every throat stayed tense, every wolf aware of how easily their bodies had obeyed.
I walked with Moon beside me.
Solan limped slightly behind us, too proud to lean on Veyra and too weak to fool anyone. Veyra walked close enough to catch him if he fell, pretending she was merely annoyed by his pace.
Ravenna followed on my other side because the contract would not let her drift too far.
She muttered about werewolf territory, cold weather, emotional loyalty, and the tragedy of being tied to “the least tyrannical royal male alive.”
I tried not to listen.
The blood-link made that difficult.
Ahead, the outer Frostveil settlement appeared through the trees.
Not a palace.
Not a castle.
A hidden pack village carved into snow and black stone, lit by blue lanterns and guarded by wolves who did not know whether to fear me or bow again.
Somewhere beyond this place, deeper in Frostveil, waited the palace.
The old court.
The answers my mother could not write.
And behind us, in the trees, my uncle had vanished with hatred in his eyes.
Prince Kaelor Frostveil did not stop until the settlement lights were far behind him.
His son and daughter waited near a frozen ravine, both cloaked in white.
His daughter spoke first.
“Is it true?”
Kaelor’s jaw tightened.
“He has Elowyn’s face.”
His son’s hand curled into a fist.
“Then he is the heir.”
“No,” Kaelor said.
The word cracked like ice.
His children went still.
Kaelor turned back toward the distant glow of the settlement, where the wolves had knelt, where his own throat had bared against his will, where Elowyn’s son had stood like a crown he had not earned.
“We spent years being told Elowyn’s line was dead,” his daughter whispered. “Our branch was next.”
“Our branch is still next,” Kaelor said.
His son’s eyes sharpened. “But the pack saw him.”
“The pack saw instinct.” Kaelor’s voice lowered. “Instinct can be frightened. Confused. Corrected.”
His daughter looked toward the settlement.
“And if the palace hears he returned?”
Kaelor’s expression turned cold.
“Then we make sure he never reaches it.”
The wind moved through the ravine.
Far away, a wolf howled.
Kaelor did not look away from the lights.
“Elowyn should have stayed buried,” he whispered. “And so should her son.”
- Writer
