Chapter 40 — Bloodlines
1399 Words
The clearing had grown quiet again.
Morning sunlight filtered through the tall trees, catching the mist that still hovered low over the grass. The wooden swords lay scattered where the sparring had ended, and the ground was scarred with fresh marks from blades and boots.
Linda still stood in the center of it, breathing slowly, gathering herself after the storm of anger.
But she was not alone in the forest.
Far beyond the clearing, hidden behind a wall of dense spruce and stone, two wolves had been watching the entire time.
Alpha Illarik stood with his arms folded across his chest.
Beside him stood his beta, Olson.
Neither had spoken during the fight.
They had watched in complete silence.
From the first strike.
To the last moment when Stanton had held Linda against him until the fury burned itself out.
Now Stanton had already disappeared into the forest, leaving Linda alone in the clearing.
Olson exhaled slowly.
“Well,” he muttered.
Illarik did not answer.
Olson’s eyes remained fixed on the empty space where Stanton had stood moments earlier.
“I always knew he was strong,” Olson said.
Illarik finally shifted his gaze slightly.
“Yes.”
Olson shook his head slowly.
“But that…”
He gestured toward the training ground.
“…that wasn’t just strength.”
“No.”
“That was control.”
“Yes.”
Olson’s voice lowered slightly.
“And intelligence.”
Illarik allowed himself a faint smile.
“Yes.”
He watched Linda for another moment before turning away from the clearing.
“Few wolves understand how dangerous Stanton truly is.”
Olson frowned slightly.
“Most think he’s just a rogue.”
Illarik began walking slowly along the ridge above the clearing.
Olson followed.
“A wild wolf who learned to survive alone,” Olson continued. “Fast. Skilled. Hard to kill.”
Illarik stopped walking.
“That’s the story most wolves believe.”
Olson looked at him.
“You don’t.”
Illarik shook his head once.
“No.”
He turned slightly so that the morning light caught his face.
“No one understands how much of an alpha Stanton truly is.”
Olson blinked.
“Alpha?”
Illarik’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“In his blood.”
The beta frowned.
“What do you mean?”
Illarik looked back toward the clearing where Linda still stood.
“Stanton carries two bloodlines.”
Olson waited.
“Alpha blood,” Illarik said quietly.
“And the blood of a White Hunter.”
For a moment Olson simply stared at him.
“…what?”
Illarik’s expression remained calm.
“His mother.”
Olson stopped walking completely.
“You’re serious.”
“Yes.”
“How do you even know that?”
Illarik exhaled slowly.
The memory surfaced easily.
“Because when Stanton’s father was overthrown…”
His voice grew quieter.
“…they came here.”
Olson’s eyes widened slightly.
“To this territory?”
“Yes.”
Illarik looked toward the distant mountains.
“They arrived in the middle of winter.”
“A fallen alpha.”
“A pregnant mate.”
“And a handful of loyal wolves who had managed to escape the coup.”
Olson stared at him.
“They asked for shelter.”
Illarik nodded once.
“And?”
“My father refused.”
The words hung between them.
Olson frowned.
“Why?”
“Fear.”
Illarik’s voice carried no pride in the answer.
“Everyone knew the wolves who had taken Stanton’s father’s territory would eventually hunt them down.”
“And anyone sheltering them.”
Olson nodded slowly.
“So your father turned them away.”
“Yes.”
Silence lingered for several moments.
“What happened to them?”
“They disappeared into the wilderness.”
Olson exhaled slowly.
“And Stanton survived.”
“Yes.”
“But you said his mother was a White Hunter.”
Illarik nodded.
“One of the last true ones.”
Olson rubbed his jaw.
“Does Stanton know that?”
“No.”
Olson blinked again.
“He doesn’t know?”
Illarik shook his head.
“No.”
“And you’re certain?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
Illarik smiled faintly.
“Because if he knew…”
His gaze sharpened.
“…he would not still be a wild wolf.”
Olson considered that.
White Hunters were legends.
Warriors whose instincts and discipline had shaped entire packs for generations.
But their bloodlines had grown thin.
Rare.
Almost myth.
“And he carries that blood,” Olson murmured.
“Yes.”
“Along with alpha blood.”
“Yes.”
Olson looked back toward the clearing again.
“That explains a lot.”
“Exactly.”
Illarik began walking again.
Olson followed.
“Most wild wolves are impulsive,” Olson continued thoughtfully.
“Uncontrolled.”
“Driven by instinct.”
“Undisciplined.”
Illarik nodded.
“Yes.”
“But Stanton…”
“…is something else entirely.”
Olson exhaled.
“A rogue with discipline.”
“A rogue with strategy.”
“A rogue who fights like an alpha.”
“And hunts like a White Hunter.”
Illarik’s eyes gleamed slightly.
“A dangerous combination.”
Olson hesitated before asking the next question.
“So…”
His voice lowered.
“…is that why you allowed them to stay on neutral ground?”
Illarik stopped again.
For a moment he simply watched the forest.
Then he answered.
“Partly.”
Olson waited.
Illarik’s gaze shifted toward the distant ridge where Stanton had vanished.
“My son Trent wants Linda.”
Olson nodded.
“I know.”
“He believes that if an alpha bonds with a White Hunter…”
“…their bloodline will grow stronger.”
“Yes.”
Olson had heard Trent speak about it before.
The ancient strength of those bloodlines.
The balance of hunter discipline and alpha authority.
“But there’s a complication,” Illarik continued.
Olson tilted his head.
“Stanton.”
“Yes.”
“If Stanton stays with Linda…”
Illarik’s voice lowered slightly.
“…then something far more interesting becomes possible.”
Olson frowned.
“What do you mean?”
Illarik looked directly at him.
“If fortune favors us.”
“If Damien falls.”
“If Morgan falls.”
“If the brothers destroy each other the way I believe they will…”
His eyes sharpened.
“…then someone will need to take their place.”
Olson’s expression shifted slowly.
“You mean—”
“Yes.”
Illarik nodded.
“Stanton.”
“And Linda.”
Olson stared at him.
“You want them to lead that pack?”
Illarik’s voice remained calm.
“Yes.”
“But your son—”
“Would never control Linda.”
Olson paused.
“That’s true.”
Illarik’s gaze turned colder.
“But Stanton would.”
Olson shook his head slowly.
“You’re planning to place them on Damien’s throne.”
“Yes.”
“And they would owe you everything.”
Illarik’s smile returned.
“Exactly.”
Olson thought about it for a moment.
“You’re certain Stanton would accept that?”
Illarik didn’t hesitate.
“I know Stanton.”
He looked back toward the forest again.
“I know what matters to him.”
“Linda.”
“Yes.”
“And I know something else.”
Olson waited.
“Stanton understands debt.”
“And honor.”
Olson nodded slowly.
If Illarik helped them rise…
Stanton would never forget.
Illarik folded his hands behind his back again.
“A ruler who owes you his crown is far more useful than one who inherits it.”
Olson allowed himself a quiet chuckle.
“You’re playing a very long game.”
“Yes.”
Olson looked toward the clearing one last time.
Linda had finally picked up one of the wooden swords again.
Testing her balance.
Ignoring the pain in her leg.
Still training.
“She’s impressive,” Olson admitted.
Illarik nodded.
“Yes.”
“But she doesn’t understand the board yet.”
Olson glanced at him.
“And Stanton?”
Illarik smiled faintly.
“He understands more than he realizes.”
They turned and began walking back through the forest.
Behind them, the clearing faded from sight.
And far below—
Two wolves continued unknowingly walking across a battlefield that had already been planned around them.
- Writer
