Claimed In Ruins

Theron stood in the center of the ruined courtyard while the pack shouted his name hard enough to shake loose ash from the broken stone walls. “Theron!” “Alpha!” “Again!” He lifted one bloodied hand, not smiling exactly, but close enough that the younger wolves looked drunk on it. Eryndra stayed near the western archway with her arms folded behind her back. Her gray cloak hid the silver markings at her wrists. Most of the pack had already forgotten she was there. That was usually how she preferred it. “Your shoulder’s bleeding,” said Maelis beside her. “I know.” “You should sit.” “I’m fine.” Maelis snorted softly. “You say that like I don't know you.” Across the courtyard, two warriors dragged the dead challenger’s body toward the pyre trench. Nobody looked at the corpse for long. The fight had ended too quickly for grief to settle properly. Forbidden magic always did. A barrel cracked open near the fires, and the scent of pine liquor spread through the crowd. Wolves shoved each other laughing. Someone started drumming against a shield. Theron’s gaze crossed the courtyard once. Only once. Still, the bond answered. Quiet heat curled low beneath Eryndra’s ribs. Familiar. Controlled. Dangerous if either of them stopped controlling it. She looked away first. “Coward,” Maelis murmured. “That would imply fear.” “That wasn’t fear?” “No,” Eryndra said. “It was a choice.” Maelis leaned against the wall beside her. “You know they’re all talking about it.” “They’re celebrating a victory.” “They’re talking about how he won.” Eryndra stayed silent. “He used forbidden magic,” Maelis said more quietly. “Half the elders looked ready to choke on their own tongues.” “He won.” “That doesn't deny what he did.” “It’s not meant to be.” Maelis studied her face for a long second. “Did you help him?” “No.” “You saw it coming?” “Yes.” “And you let it happen anyway.” “I didn’t say that.” “You didn’t have to.” A cheer rose near the center fire. Theron had finally accepted a drink. Someone slapped his back hard enough to stagger him half a step. He still looked exhausted. No. Worse than exhausted. He looked like he was barely holding on Eryndra knew the difference. Maelis followed her stare. “You should talk to him.” “There’s nothing to say.” “That has never stopped either of you before.” “We made a decision.” Maelis laughed once under her breath. “That’s a nice clean way to describe mutual self-torture.” Eryndra ignored her. The drums grew louder. Wolves danced around the firepit, boots scraping soot across stone. Children chased each other between tables carrying stolen meat skewers while exhausted sentries finally allowed themselves to sit. For the first time in months, the pack looked safe. That feeling wouldn’t last. It never did. But tonight they needed it. A young scout approached Eryndra carefully. “Seer-Warden?” “Yes?” “The healers asked if you could check the eastern tunnels before dawn. They’re worried the collapse weakened the lower chambers.” “I’ll go after the fires die.” The scout nodded quickly. “Thank you.” When he left, Maelis smirked. “You could be standing in the middle of the world ending and they’d still ask you to inspect tunnels.” “That’s because I’d actually inspect them.” “You know what I mean.” Eryndra flexed her aching fingers once. Gold dust still stained the edges of her nails from the warding circles beneath the mountain. Three days without proper sleep. Two visions she still didn’t fully understand. One battle that should have killed their alpha. Instead, Theron had broken sacred law in front of the entire pack. And won. “Do you think the council will challenge him?” Maelis asked. “They won’t do it tonight.” “That wasn’t my question.” Eryndra watched Theron across the flames. He spoke little even now, answering congratulations with short nods and tired half smiles. The warriors closest to him looked relieved just hearing his voice. “No,” she said at last. “Not openly.” “But?” “But they’ll remember.” “Meaning?” “Meaning men forgive desperation faster than power.” Maelis went quiet. They both knew what forbidden bond magic meant. Strength borrowed from the mate-thread. Life answering life. One soul reaching for another whether permission was given or not. Ancient laws called it sacred once. Then wolves started using it to control each other. After that came the bans. Eryndra touched the inside of her wrist briefly, pressing against the pulse there. The bond answered again. Steady. Warm. Infuriating. Theron looked toward her a second time. This time he didn’t look away. The noise of the celebration blurred around the edges for one sharp second. “Gods,” Maelis muttered. “You two are painful to watch.” Eryndra broke eye contact carefully. “Enough.” “No, seriously. I’ve seen less tension in execution yards.” “We are not discussing this.” “You’re right. Because discussing it would require one of you to admit the obvious.” Eryndra exhaled slowly through her nose. “Maelis.” “What?” “Leave it.” Maelis lifted both hands. “Fine.” A pause settled between them before Maelis spoke again, quieter this time. “You know he would burn the whole kingdom for you.” “That’s exactly the problem.” “And what would you do for him?” Eryndra didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. Maelis’s expression softened slightly. “Still holding to the vow?” “Yes.” “Even now?” “I know why I made it.” “And?” “And I intend to keep it.” Near the firepit, one of the older warriors raised a cup toward Theron. “Tell us how you did it!” Several wolves shouted agreement. Theron rubbed a hand across his jaw. “Badly.” Laughter exploded around him. “You split Garrick’s shield in half!” “He was slow.” “You broke his arm before that!” “He should’ve moved.” “Arrogant bastard,” another warrior shouted affectionately. Theron shook his head once, though Eryndra could see fatigue pulling at the edges of him now. “Enough. Drink before the liquor freezes.” “You heard the alpha!” More cheering followed. Maelis glanced sideways. “See? Still pretending he’s not bleeding internally.” “He’s still standing.” “That’s your standard?” “It has to be.” The truth sat heavier beneath the words. Theron had always carried pain quietly. Since childhood. Since the first winter raids. Since becoming alpha far too young after his father’s death ripped the pack leadership apart. Other men performed strength. Theron concealed his hurt and emotions tightly while showing himself to be a great leader. That was partly why the pack trusted him. And partly why Eryndra could never stop watching him. A shadow crossed the courtyard entrance. Several wolves straightened before relaxing immediately. “Orin!” someone called. Warm laughter moved through the crowd before the man even reached the firelight. Orin grinned, broad shouldered and easy in a way few warriors ever managed after battle. He carried two bottles under one arm while younger wolves crowded around him immediately. “You left us with nothing but terrible singers,” one complained. “That sounds like a personal failing,” Orin replied. Another wolf pointed toward Theron. “The alpha cheated death again.” “Then I expect death is embarrassed.” More laughter. Even Theron’s mouth twitched slightly. Orin moved through the celebration like he belonged to every corner of it. Greeting elders. Checking injured warriors. Stealing food from distracted guards and handing it to children before they could complain. The pack loved him for it. Eryndra understood why. “Finally,” Maelis said. “Someone here with social skills.” “An overrated talent.” “That explains why you don’t have any.” Eryndra almost answered, but Orin had reached them already. “There you are,” he said. Maelis gestured toward Eryndra. “She’s hiding from joy again.” “I’m supervising.” “From the shadows?” “Efficiently.” Orin laughed softly before looking closer at Eryndra’s face. His expression shifted immediately. “You’re exhausted.” “I’ve been called worse.” “I’m serious.” “So am I.” He held her gaze another second. There was nothing sharp in it. Nothing prying. Just concern. “You should rest tonight,” he said. “I still need to inspect the eastern tunnels.” “The mountain can survive until morning.” “The wards might not.” Orin sighed. “You always do this.” “Do what?” “Act like your body is replaceable.” Maelis pointed toward him. “See? I’ve been saying that for years.” Eryndra ignored both of them. Across the courtyard, Theron was already watching again. Not openly. Never openly. But the bond pulled tighter anyway. Orin followed her line of sight briefly before looking back at her. Whatever thought crossed his face disappeared fast enough that she couldn’t catch it. Then he smiled. Warm. Familiar. Safe. “The pack wouldn’t have survived tonight without you,” he said quietly. Eryndra frowned faintly. “Theron won that fight.” “And your sight guided half the strategy leading into it.” “That doesn’t mean—” “It means people are alive because of you.” Maelis nodded once. “He’s right.” “Look. The hero approaches.” Theron ignored that entirely. His eyes settled on Eryndra instead. “You’re still standing.” “So are you.” “Barely,” Maelis muttered. Theron gave her a flat look. “Helpful.” “I try.” “You need the healers,” she said. “I already saw them.” “They missed half of this.” “They complained enough that I assumed they didn’t.” Maelis snorted. “I’m leaving before the two of you start communicating through eye contact again.” “You could stay,” Theron said. “I absolutely could. I absolutely won’t.” She pushed away from the wall and pointed once at Eryndra. “Sleep.” Then she pointed at Theron. “And you. Before your organs fail.” “You coughed blood an hour ago.” Theron said nothing. Maelis looked vindicated. “Exactly.” She disappeared back toward the fires before either of them could answer. Silence settled. Theron rested one shoulder against the stone archway beside Eryndra. “You should be celebrating,” she said. “I was.” A child sprinted past them laughing while another chased after him with a stolen strip of roasted meat. Theron watched them for a second before speaking again. “The western line held?” “Yes.” “And the southern scouts?” “Three injured. No deaths.” His shoulders loosened at that. “You already knew that,” she said. “I wanted to hear you say it.” Eryndra looked down at the courtyard. “The council will question what happened tonight.” “I know.” “You broke ancestral law in front of witnesses.” “I know.” “You can’t keep using the bond like that.” Theron went still. “I used it once.” “That was enough.” His voice lowered. “You think I don’t understand the risk?” “I think you were willing to die.” “If Garrick had won, the pack would’ve fallen by winter.” “That isn’t an answer.” Theron looked at her then. Directly. No distance left inside it. “No,” he said quietly. “It isn’t.” The bond pulsed once between them. Low. Aching. Familiar enough to hurt. Eryndra forced herself to step back first. Theron’s jaw tightened, though whether from pain or restraint she couldn’t tell. “You should rest,” he said at last. “So should you.” Neither of them moved. Behind them, Orin’s laughter carried across the courtyard again, easy and bright enough to pull several others into it immediately. Theron glanced toward the sound briefly before looking back at Eryndra. Then he pushed away from the archway and returned to the firelight without another word. Around them, the celebration carried on. Drums. Firelight. Wolves laughing like grief had finally loosened its grip for one blessed night. And Eryndra believed him completely.