Whispers of the Winter Wolf

Episode Seven

Part 18: The War Table

I stared at the black tunic lying on the furs. It was an order, but it was also a shield. He wasn't just giving me clothes; he was giving me a public identity, a scent-mark that would silence all whispers before they began. He was telling the pack, "She is mine," in their most primal, undeniable language.

My hand was steady as I pulled the heavy tunic over my head. It was huge, falling to my mid-thighs, the sleeves so long I had to roll them back. And the scent... it was overwhelming. It was the smell of the lodge, of the mountain, of him. My inner wolf, which had been soothed by his proximity all night, purred in satisfaction, settling under my skin, wrapped in the scent of mate. It felt... it felt like armor.

When I turned, Draven was watching me. His gaze was possessive, appreciative, and edged with something I couldn't name—a fierce, burning pride. He gave a single, curt nod. "It suits you."

He didn't wait. He turned and strode to the door, a silent command for me to follow.

We walked from the high lodge to the council chambers. The stronghold was awake, and as we crossed the courtyard, the effect of my new attire was immediate and profound. Yesterday, the stares had been cold, assessing, suspicious. Today, the pack members stopped, their eyes widened, and they dropped their heads in deference. They weren't just bowing to their Alpha; they were bowing to the woman who was so thoroughly marked by him. I was no longer a rogue. I was, in their eyes, his.

The council chamber was a low-ceilinged, stone room dominated by a massive, rough-hewn table. A map of the surrounding territories was carved into its surface. The pack's elite was already there: grizzled warriors, silent scouts, and at the head of the table, standing with her arms crossed, Beta Kaelen.

The dozen wolves in the room went silent as we entered. Every single eye locked onto me, or more accurately, onto the black Alpha's tunic I was swimming in.

Kaelen's face, already set in lines of displeasure, went white with a fury so potent it was a tangible thing. This was a public, undeniable declaration. I wasn't just a bed-warmer. I was being presented as his partner. Her icy eyes met mine, and they no longer held contempt. They held pure, unadulterated hatred.

Draven paid her no mind. He took his seat at the head of the table, the one carved from the trunk of an ancient, dark tree. He did not look at me, but he pointed to the chair at his immediate left. The Luna's seat. Kaelen was on his right. The power dynamic, for all to see, was set.

My heart was pounding, but I took the seat, my back straight. I was an imposter, a rogue in a queen's chair, but I would not show it.

"Report," Draven rumbled, his voice all-Alpha.

A scout with a long scar down his face stepped forward. "The drought is worsening, Alpha. The herds are thin, and they're moving west, toward the Moonridge border. Alpha Jared's patrols are following them, pushing the boundaries of the treaty."

Kaelen spoke, her voice sharp. "Moonridge is weak. Jared is a cub. Let them push. We can break them."

"That is not our only threat," the scout said, cutting her off, a move that surprised me. He clearly had bad news. "The Blackfang rogues... they're no longer scattered. We've seen signs of a new leader. They're organized. They hit our eastern patrol at the dry riverbed. We lost Valus and Tormund."

A heavy, dark silence fell. These were not just nameless guards. These were pack.

Kaelen slammed her fist on the table. "I knew it. Rogues are a cancer. They're unpredictable, feral, driven by nothing but their own desperate, selfish survival." Her gaze slid to me, a blade meant to cut. "They cannot be trusted. They know nothing of loyalty. They only know how to take."

The challenge was laid. The entire room was looking at me, waiting. Draven's hand clenched on the arm of his chair, but he remained silent, his face a mask of stone. This was my test. My fight.

I took a slow, steadying breath, the scent of him filling my lungs, grounding me.

"You're right about one thing, Beta Kaelen," I said. My voice was quiet, but it was clear, and it cut through the tension. "Rogues are driven by survival."

I stood. Every eye followed me. I walked to the map, my fingers tracing the carved lines of the territory.

"But you're wrong about the rest. They aren't unpredictable. They're desperate. And a desperate animal is the most predictable creature on earth."

I looked at the scout. "You said the herds are moving west, correct? But your patrol was hit on the east."

"Yes," the scout said, frowning. "It makes no sense. There's no prey there."

"Exactly," I said, my voice gaining strength. I felt a strange, cold clarity settling over me—the old, familiar mindset of the hunt. "Kaelen thinks like a pack wolf. You think in terms of territory. This new leader thinks like a rogue. They don't care about your territory. They care about food."

I tapped the map. "They aren't just attacking you randomly on the east. They're herding you. They're creating a distraction. While your strongest warriors, like Kaelen, are focused on the east, wondering why they're being attacked..."

I dragged my finger across the map, west, to a narrow, unguarded pass in the mountains. "...they're pushing the deer herds through this pass, out of your lands and into the northern valleys. They aren't just hunting. They're creating a larder. They're colonizing."

I looked up, meeting Kaelen's stunned, disbelieving gaze.

"I survived three years by knowing how the Blackfangs think," I said, my voice dropping. "I know their old leader. He was a brute, all rage and no plan. This... this is smart. This is a strategy. You're fighting a border skirmish. They are fighting a war for survival."

The chamber was utterly silent. The warriors weren't looking at me like a stray anymore. They were looking at me like a... general.

I turned back to Draven.

His face was no longer a mask. A slow, dangerous, and incredibly proud smile was touching his lips. He had seen a rogue survivor. He had not realized he'd also found a strategist.

He stood, his presence filling the room. "She's right."

He looked at his Beta, and his smile vanished. "Kaelen. You will take your best warriors. You will go east. You will make as much noise as possible. Confirm this distraction. Draw their full attention."

Kaelen's face was pale, but she nodded. "Yes, Alpha."

"Valerius," he said to the scarred scout, "you will take the Shadow Guard—our fastest and quietest. You will move to the western pass. And you will take your new Luna with you."

My head snapped up. Kaelen's did, too.

"She knows the terrain," Draven said, his voice absolute, his golden eyes locking on mine. "She knows the enemy. And it is time the pack saw their Queen in action."