The ultimate prize

Chapter eighteen

The signing of the Ironwood Accord brought an eerie calm to the Citadel, but beneath the surface, the victory created ripples that reached the highest tiers of northern nobility. With the external border threat neutralized and the pack’s coffers set to double through the newly acquired logging operations, those who had doubted Nora were forced into silent resentment.

In the private solar of the Frost-Pike estate, located in the outer upper ring of the Citadel, Lady Victoria stood near a floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the snow-covered courtyard. In her hands, she crumpled a small silk ribbon, her knuckles bone-white.

Sitting opposite her near a carved oak hearth was Lord Aaron of House Frost-Pike—her uncle and the chief logistics officer for the northern border garrisons. He was a broad, grizzled wolf with white-streaked hair and sharp, cold blue eyes that mirrored Victoria's own.

"You let a servant girl take control of the Rose Gallery," Aaron said, his deep voice laced with sharp disapproval as he took a sip from a heavy pewter goblet of spiced wine. "And now she has single-handedly secured the Ironwood timber mills. The vanguard guards are already referring to her as the 'Iron Luna.' Gerald's faction in the High Council is entirely paralyzed."

Victoria turned around sharply, her ice-blue silk gown swirling around her heels. Her pale eyes flared with a cold, dangerous light.

"Gerald attacked her with blunt force in front of the Alpha," Victoria spat, her melodious voice tight with fury. "And Valen used his authority to shield her. But she remains a wolf-less human, Aaron. She has no spirit, no territorial aura, and no ability to endure the physical trials of our lineage."

"The Alpha does not care about her lack of a wolf spirit," Aaron countered, setting his goblet down on the side table with a heavy *thud*. "He treats her mind as a military weapon. If you intend to displace her, you cannot attack her intellect or her loyalty to the pack. You must force her into an arena where her human body becomes an undeniable liability."

Victoria’s sharp lips curved into a slow, calculating smile as a cold realization struck her. "The Winter Equinox Hunt."

Aaron leaned back in his leather chair, a slow nod approving her thought. "The ancient laws of the Northern Realm state that during the Solstice Equinox, the Luna must lead the first ceremonial hunt through the Frost-Spire Valley to bless the pack's winter stores. It is a traditional rite of physical endurance, requiring high-altitude tracking in sub-zero temperatures."

"A trial that requires an active wolf spirit to survive the night air without freezing," Victoria murmured, her pale eyes narrowing into lethal slits. "If she accepts, the mountain cold will break her human body in front of every noble house. If she refuses, she openly surrenders her traditional duties as Luna, proving to the entire realm that she is physically unfit to hold the title."

"And as the highest-ranking noblewoman of the Frost-Pike lineage," Aaron added, a dark glint touching his eyes, "you will be required by tradition to step in and lead the hunt in her place."

Victoria smoothed down her silk skirts, her posture instantly transforming back into that of a serene, royal noblewoman. "Draft the formal petition to the High Council, Uncle. Cite the ancient founding charters. Let us see if our 'Iron Luna' can survive the mountain frost without the Alpha holding her hand."

An hour later, inside the grand library of the Citadel, Nora sat at the wide mahogany table with Mrs. Gable. Stacked between them were thick ledgers detailing the winter food distribution schedules for the lower-caste servants and mountain workers—a massive logistical undertaking that Nora had personally taken over to ensure no family went without rations during the coming freezes.

"We have reallocated twenty percent of the surplus grain from the Bloodmoon seizure to the northern mining villages, Lady Nora," Mrs. Gable explained, her crisp voice filled with genuine warmth as she pointed to a row of neat figures. "For the first time in twelve years, the lower quarters will not require winter food rationing."

"Good," Nora said softly, leaning back against the plush leather chair. Her dark brown eyes swept over the figures with satisfaction. "The people who work the mines and tend the fires should never be the ones who go hungry in the winter."

Before Mrs. Gable could reply, the heavy double doors of the library swung open with a sharp, echoed report.

Gamma Torin entered the room, his scar-pitted face exceptionally grave. He held a formal scroll made of thick, heavy parchment bound with a silver cord and stamped with the ancient seal of the Founding Houses.

Nora’s survival instincts sharpened instantly. She sat up straight, her eyes locking onto the scroll. "What is it, Torin?"

Torin stopped at the edge of the mahogany table, looking at Nora with a mixture of dark anger and deep concern. "A formal petition was delivered to the High Council twenty minutes ago, signed by House Frost-Pike and backed by twelve noble families."

He unrolled the heavy parchment, placing it flat on the wood in front of her.

"They are invoking the Charter of the First Frost," Torin explained, his rough voice dropping into a tense register. "They are demanding that you fulfill the ancient tradition of the Luna by leading the ceremonial Equinox Hunt through the Frost-Spire Valley three nights from now."

Mrs. Gable gasped softly, her hand instantly going to her chest. "The Frost-Spire Valley? In the middle of the Equinox freeze? That pass drops to thirty degrees below freezing! Even wolf-shifters require their fur pelts and active territorial spirit to endure a night in those crags!"

Nora looked down at the dark ink written across the parchment. Her eyes scanned the formal, flowery language, immediately spotting Lady Victoria's elegant signature at the bottom of the petition.

"They want me to freeze," Nora said quietly, her voice calm, precise, and completely steady. "Or they want me to forfeit."

"Valen will reject the petition the moment he reads it," Torin stated firmly, resting his broad hand on his sword hilt. "He will invoke his absolute authority as Alpha to declare the charter outdated and void."

"No," Nora said softly, her eyes rising from the parchment to meet Torin's.

Torin frowned deeply. "My Luna, you cannot survive a night in the upper Frost-Spire without an active wolf spirit. The mountain cold up there isn't just weather—it is ancient elemental magic that eats through normal human clothing within hours."

Nora slowly rose from her chair, her dark emerald wool dress sweeping the floorboards. She looked out the wide library window toward the towering, snow-capped peaks of the northern range, where the dark, jagged cliffs of the Frost-Spire Valley pierced the gray sky.

"If Valen rejects this petition for me, Victoria and the elders will declare that the wolf-less Luna is a fragile pet who breaks the pack's sacred traditions," Nora spoke, her voice carrying a quiet, unbreakable steel that vibrated through the silent library. "They spent weeks trying to defeat me with politics, intelligence, and court games, and they failed. Now they are hiding behind the weather."

She turned back to face Torin, her dark brown eyes burning with a sharp, lethal fire that made the hardened Gamma take a small, involuntary breath.

"Inform the High Council that the Luna accepts the petition," Nora commanded softly. "I will lead the Equinox Hunt."