Back in the war room.
"She says her village was attacked by rogues," Thornak said. "Darkpine Ridge. It's a human territory far from our patrol routes."
Kael frowned. "What would rogues be doing out there?"
"Taking girls," Thornak replied. "She said her father helped her escape."
Ruvan arched a brow. "Impressive."
"And she's wolfless."Thornak added. "But she's clearly been trained. She held her ground longer than most would."
Kael raised a brow. "So you're saying the woman your wolf has claimed… has no wolf? Do we believe her?"
"We verify her story," Thornak said firmly. "Send scouts to Darkpine Ridge. Discreetly. I want confirmation on the attack and her family's survival."
Ruvan gave a short nod. "And the rogues?"
"Track them. If they're operating in that region, we need to know how close they've gotten to our borders—and who's giving them orders." He looked between the two. "I want answers by the end of the week. I have a feeling this is connected to the recent attacks on our boarders."
As if on cue, there was a knock and Dain, his Beta entered. His scarred brow was furrowed, jaw tight. "They've been sighted again near the Frostmere border. Same formation. Same scent. Another patrol has gone missing, That makes three."
Ruvan, paced near the far window. "This isn't rogue work. It's coordinated. Someone's commanding them."
Dain added grimly, "Whatever this is, they're testing our defenses. We either hit first, or we wait until they strike something vital."
"Could they be the ones taking the girls, Kael asked. "Could all this be connected?"
Thorn's golden eyes gleamed beneath the torchlight. "Could be, we prepare a counter strike, but not yet. We'll ride north tomorrow."
"And the woman?" Dain asked, eyeing him carefully.
"She is not to be touched," Thorn growled. "My chambers are sealed. No one enters, not even my mother. Let the court whisper. Let them boil. She is under my protection. Kael, I leave you in charge of her."
Kael nodded.
Elsewhere in the king's chambers. A soft knock on the door made Lara jump. She had been looking out the tall window for a long time, trying to ignore the strange pain in her chest and the feeling that her whole life had changed.
A gentle voice followed the knock. "May I come in?"
Before Lara could answer, the door opened and a young woman stepped inside, holding a basket. She had long blonde hair braided over one shoulder and a beautiful smile. She was about her age.
"I'm Iris," she said kindly. "Thornak's sister."
Lara tensed, unsure what to say. The name of the Lycan King still made her chest tighten.
"I brought you some things," Iris continued, walking over to the table near the window. "Warm bread, stew. And some proper clothes. My brother thought you might want something more comfortable."
Lara glanced down at the oversized dress she wore it must've been Thornak's. The thought made her cheeks flushed.
"Thank you," she said quietly.
Iris turned to her with a grin. "Don't worry, you're safe. This place might feel like a haunted castle, but not everyone here bites or howls… some of us just complain about the food."
That made Lara laugh, a small, surprised sound that slipped out before she could stop it. Iris' eyes lit up like she'd just won a prize.
"I'm sorry, Princess," Lara said, still giggling. "I didn't mean to laugh..."
Iris laughed softly. "It's okay," she said with a wink. "Making people laugh is part of my very unofficial duty."
Lara chuckled, but didn't argue.
"Sit up," Iris said gently. "Eat something first, and I'll have them bring water for your bath. I am sure you must be hungry."
As if on cue, her stomach growled in response, loud enough to make them both laugh.
....
Thornak rode ahead of his men, the weight of his thoughts heavy. His horse's hooves echoed on the hard earth. The wind blew hard against his cloak, making the fur-lined edges flap like war flags. His senses were sharp, alert to every small change in the air. But what held his focus most was the feeling in his chest, the pull toward Lara, that kept him grounded.
He could still feel her warmth. His wolf stirred restlessly within him, a reminder of the bond that was both exhilarating and unsettling.
It didn't make sense. The Moon Goddess had chosen her for him, a wolfless werewolf. And he, a Lycan. Their worlds, their roles, were supposed to be as far apart as the moon and the earth. Yet when he had seen her in that forest, dying, when he had felt the surge of their connection flood through him like a torrent, everything had shifted. His kingdom, his purpose, they all seemed meaningless when faced with the undeniable truth.
She was his woman.
The weight of it was staggering. His mind wanted to focus on the mission and to find out who had attacked Lara, why, and how to prevent any further threats to the kingdom. But his heart was torn between his duty and the undeniable pull to be by her side.
"We'll be at Frostmere's border very soon Thorn," Ruvan called out from behind him, pulling Thornak from his thoughts.
Thornak nodded but didn't turn to face his Gamma. His gaze remained fixed ahead, the horizon barely visible through the thick trees. His wolf was alert, pacing restlessly within him, eager to return to the palace, to Lara.
"I've sent scouts ahead to confirm the situation," Ruvan continued. "But there's something about this that doesn't feel right. Whatever we're facing, it's more than just rogue wolves."
"I know," Thornak muttered, his jaw clenching as he pushed his horse forward, urging it to move faster.
But Thornak's mind was already far from the threat at hand. He could feel the pulse of the bond between him and Lara, distant yet undeniable, like an anchor in his chest. He knew he needed to focus, to be the king his people expected, but the call of the bond made it hard to think of anything else.
Thornak's horse kicked up sand as he approached the small clearing where his scouts were waiting. The group had fanned out across the perimeter, their eyes sharp and their bodies taut with the anticipation of battle. The scent of the forest still clung to the air, but it was the sense of something wrong, something out of place, that made the hairs on the back of his neck prickle.