carried across 69

 

69 In Five Days 

+25 Bonus 

Fenris 

“Kael is starting to put words to the council,” Yvara said quietly, stepping back to my side. 

The smile vanished from my face. I kept my eyes on Elian. “Let him. His daughter lost a fair challenge. The pack saw it.” 

“He is pretty pissed about the defeat,” Yvara continued. She crossed her arms tightly over her chest. “He feels humiliated. I saw him in the main corridors earlier this morning. He was walking with Chief Vane. Vane was listening closely.” 

I locked my jaw. Chief Vane controlled the eastern hunting grounds. He was an old, traditional wolf who held a lot of sway over the older generation in the pack. 

“Kael is twisting the narrative,” Yvara said. “He is telling them you let a soft southern outsider humiliate a pure Ironmaw bloodline. He is saying you are compromised by the Valdris girl.” 

“He is a fool,” I said flatly. 

“He is an angry fool with influence,” Yvara countered. She turned to face me fully. “You have to do something, Fenris. You cannot just ignore them. You can be the strongest fighter on this mountain, but if you let them control the whispers in the dark, we are just a lone bear surrounded by a pack of starving hounds. They will bleed you out from the ankles.” 

I was quiet for a long time. The wind picked up, biting at the exposed skin of my face. 

I knew how to fight a rogue in the snow. I knew how to break a man’s neck before he could draw his sword. I did not know how to sit in a warm room and placate bruised egos. I hated the politics. I hated the careful manipulation of words. 

“Dimitri was better at this,” I said. It was a heavy, bitter admission. 

“Dimitri is dead,” Yvara said instantly. She did not coddle me. “You are the Alpha. You have to handle it.” 

The crunch of heavy boots on the frost interrupted us. 

The footsteps were wrong. They were too slow. Too deliberate. They lacked the heavy, grounded weight of a northern wolf. 

I turned my head. 

Lord Torin was walking toward us across the yard. He wore a thick, fur-lined cloak over his expensive southern clothes, but he was still shivering. His face was pale, and his eyes looked tired, carrying dark bags underneath them. 

He stopped five feet away from us. He looked at Yvara first, his nose wrinkling slightly in distaste, before looking at me. 

1/3 

+25 Bonus 

“Alpha Volkov,” Torin said. His breath plumed in the cold air. 

“Torin.” 

Torin cleared his throat. He squared his shoulders, trying to project authority. “I require a word with you. It concerns the Princess.” 

“Speak.” 

Torin glanced at the two pups in the ring, who were now glaring at each other from opposite sides of the dirt. He looked disgusted by the dirt and the blood. 

“King Aldric sent my delegation here for a very specific reason,” Torin began, looking back at me. “The border treaty between our kingdoms is entirely contingent on the marriage. The actual, binding 

ceremony. Yesterday’s display in the yard was barbaric. The Queen is highly distressed by the condition of her daughter.” 

I stared at him. I did not blink. I let the silence stretch out, forcing him to stand in the freezing wind. 

Torin shifted his weight uncomfortably. He swallowed hard, but he forced himself to continue. 

“We need to finalize this arrangement before the girl is killed in one of your violent exercises,” Torin said, his voice gaining a false layer of confidence. “I am formally announcing the King’s terms. The wedding must happen by the next full moon.” 

Yvara let out a low, dry scoff. 

I didn’t react. I did the math in my head. The next full moon was exactly five days away. 

“Five days,” I said. 

“Yes,” Torin confirmed. He lifted his chin. “That is the timeline. We are here to witness the vows, sign the final parchment, and return to Valdris to confirm the alliance. If the ceremony does not happen by the full moon, King Aldric will consider the treaty void.” 

Torin paused. He took a short breath. 

“If that happens, we will leave. And we will take Sera with us.” 

The threat hung in the freezing air. 

I looked at the southern diplomat. I looked at his clean boots and his shaking hands. I felt the absolute, violent urge to reach across the distance, grab him by his throat, and crush his windpipe. I could snap his neck in two seconds. I could dump his body off the mountain and send his head back to Aldric in a wooden box. 

I shook my head. 

Five days. 

In five days, I would stand in front of the pack and tie her to me permanently. I would seal the bond. I 

2/3 

+25 Bonus 

would officially steal my dead brother’s future, and the entire continent would witness it. 

I stepped forward. I moved directly into Torin’s personal space. 

Torin’s breath hitched. He flinched, his eyes going wide with sudden, unfiltered panic. He tried to take a step back, but his boots slipped slightly on the ice. 

I looked down at him. 

“You will not take anything from this mountain,” I said. My voice was a low, vibrating rumble in my chest. 

Torin stared up at me. He didn’t speak. He barely breathed. 

“The wedding will happen on the full moon,” I told him, my words cold and absolute. “You will stand there. You will witness it. And then you and your delegation will get the fuck out of my territory.” 

Torin gave a sharp, jerky nod. He didn’t say another word. He turned around quickly and walked back toward the main keep, his pace bordering on a run. 

I watched him go. 

“Five days,” Yvara muttered beside me. “That is not a lot of time to get the council in line.” 

“Then we start right now,” I said. I turned away from the yard. “Gather the elders. Tell them to meet me in the main hall.” 

+25 Bonus