The candlelight shone on her face, making her golden hair glow like firelight. He lowered his head, capturing her lips once more. His wolf stirred inside him, hungry for her and wanting to claim her as his.
His hand slipped under her nightdress, his fingers grazing her bare skin. She shivered at his touch, her softness drawing him in.
Her body was so soft. He let his hand wander higher. His palm found the curve of her breast, and a soft moan escaped her lips.
And then...
The sharp clang of the big bell tore through the night. His body went rigid. The sound came again, louder, echoing across the stone walls.
He froze, every muscle locking tight. That bell was never rung unless blood was already spilling in the courtyards.
He pulled back. "Stay here," He growled.
In the next instant, he was gone leaving the guards at her door.
Thornak burst into the courtyard, the alarm bell still tolling above. His eyes locked on the chaos ahead, guards clashing with something.
It had the shape of a man, yet moved like smoke and shadow.
A wraith.
His wolf stirred restlessly inside him straining to break loose.
Ninzu's warning came back to him at once, on the day of Lara's trial. "I've set wards around the castle. If the wraith breaches them, then the wards have been weakened… or broken."
Yet here it was, moving across the stones of his castle.
He commanded his men to light the sacred torches Ninzu had given them and close in, forming a burning ring around the wraith.
It recoiled, its smoky form twisting as the holy flames cut off its escape. It slammed against the fiery circle again and again, shrieking but every strike only made the torches burn brighter.
The flames tugged at its smoky body until, at last, the wraith let out one final shriek and vanished into nothing.
Thornak's voice rang out. "Are there more?" he asked Dain.
His Beta shook his head. "No, this was the only one. But it struck several of the men, they have been trapped in some kind of deep sleep."
"Take them to the infirmary," he ordered.
Dain nodded and moved to carry out the command, motioning for the others to lift the fallen guards.
....
The northern and southern Lycan families had been close for generations, their bond stretching back to their grandfathers' time.
In this generation, the elders had sealed that alliance with marriage. Maravelle, from the northern kingdom, wed the King of Vargorath, while her brother was made the king's Beta.
That alliance, once iron-strong, had weakened with time. What had begun as kinship and trust had slowly given way to quiet rivalries, unspoken grievances, and fading loyalties.
"This attack proves what we have said all along. The rogues, the wraith, if we keep pulling apart, we'll be giving them the kingdom on a silver platter." Kael said.
Thornak ran a hand over the table, his frustration evident. They didn't have the men, or the strength, to fight what they couldn't even see.
He was with Kael, Dain and Ruvan in the war room.
"We need to form an alliance with the northern kingdom," Thornak said firmly. "This threat affects all of us, north and south alike."
They all nodded in agreement, the weight of the threat settling heavily in the room.
"That is a wise decision Thorn, although, I doubt the northern king will welcome us with open arms. You know old grudges die hard," Dain said.
Ruvan leaned back in his chair, thoughtful. "He will listen to Aedric. Alas they used to be very close before. I believe that incident that happened with his mother was what created a rift between them."
Thornak frowned slightly. "Do you trust Aedric to act wisely?"
"I do. He's our best chance to forge the alliance before it's too late."
"Very well."
....
The gates of Draemore creaked loudly as Aedric Stormbite and the Lawwarden rode through with a dozen men. Draemore, the border stronghold of the Northern Lycan Kingdom, was big and rich.
Here, his name was enough to raise eyebrows.
Aedric's mother and his aunt Maravelle were both born in Draemore. They were sisters of the late Northern King.
Maravelle had married into Vargorath for power and to secure an alliance.
Aedric's mother, however, fell in love with the King of Vargorath, and he with her. She became his mistress and concubine, which greatly displeased Maravelle.
The betrayal of her death had carved scars across the kingdom.
Aedric was led to the throne room. The current King of the North, son of the late Northern King, received him with polite courtesy, a remnant of the closeness they had once shared.
"Cousin," the King said. "It has been long since last we met. I trust your journey was safe?"
"Safe, and swift," Aedric replied. "Thank you for receiving me."
The King gestured towards a seat. "Come, we have much to discuss, but first, sit and tell me how you have been."
That night, at the ceremonial feast, the northern nobles lifted their cups and offered one toast after another. Although Aedric raised his own cup and drank with them, he said little, watching the room and weighing every word around him with caution.
After the feast, he was sent to his chambers.
The room was sparsely furnished with an elegant bed, a single hearth casting flickering light and a plain desk.
The Lawwarden's chamber lay next to his. He had already gone to rest for the night.
He sat down, exhausted.
Suddenly the fire made a sound, and then it seemed to rise higher.
He couldn't look away. It felt as if he was in a trance.
Then the flames split apart like curtains and a vision appeared.
He saw himself under the moonlight, his face softer than he had ever shown. Beside him stood Lara looking bright and happy.
Between them was a boy. His hair was messy, and he had a stubborn grin. One small hand held Aedric's, the other tugged on Lara's sleeve.
It was Liam.