The silence in the council chamber lingered long after Darren’s laughter faded.
+25 Points
For a moment, no one spoke. The elders remained seated, some rigid with restrained anger, others bowed beneath the weight of indecision. Darren let his gaze sweep over them one last time–measuring,
memorizing, and dismissing.
Then he stood.
The scrape of his chair against the stone floor echoed louder than it should have. It wasn’t an accident.
Nothing Darren did was accidental.
“If that will be all,” he said lightly, brushing invisible dust from his sleeve, “I have matters to attend to.
Stonevale does not run itself.”
No one answered.
Elder Harkin’s eyes followed him, steady, but he did not speak again. The challenge had been issued; the
line had been drawn.
Darren gave a faint, amused hum under his breath and turned toward the doors of the chamber. The
guards standing at either side straightened immediately as he approached. He did not look back.
The doors opened.
He stepped out into the corridor, boots striking the floor in slow, deliberate rhythm.
The doors closed behind him with a deep thud.
A second pair of footsteps followed shortly after.
“Darren.”
Wyatt.
Of course.
Wyatt caught up easily, falling into step beside him as they walked the length of the corridor.
“Well,” Wyatt began, lowering his voice as they passed a pair of patrol guards, “that could have gone
smoother,”
Darren huffed faint amusement through his nose.
“They’re old,” he replied. “Old wolves cling to memory like it’s sacred scripture. They’ll tire.”
Wyatt’s jaw tightened slightly. “It’s been days. And they’re still circling the same argument. No concrete proof. No official crowning. No declared Alpha.” He glanced sideways at Darren. “Some of them are still against the boy’s banishment.”
< Chapter 313
Darren’s stride did not falter.
“They’ll adjust.”
“And if they don’t?” Wyatt pressed. “What if Roman returns?”
That made Darren stop.
+25 Points
They had reached an open balcony overlooking the valley that stretched beyond Stonevale territory. Wind
swept upward from the forested slopes, tugging faintly at Darren’s coat.
He rested his hands against the stone railing and looked out over the land that he already considered his.
“What if he returns?” Wyatt continued, more quietly now. “You heard Harkin. If the boy steps back into this
territory alive, some of them will welcome him with open arms. They’ll throw their loyalty back at him. And
you…” Wyatt paused. “You’ll be standing to the side again.”
The implication hung between them.
Darren’s fingers tapped once against the railing.
Then he laughed.
Not loudly. Not mockingly like before.
Just… amused.
“The foolish elders will get over it,” he said calmly. “They always do. Age breeds sentiment. But sentiment
fades when faced with permanence.”
Wyatt studied him. “And Roman?”
Darren turned his head slightly, eyes glinting with something darker than amusement now.
“He’s never coming back.”
There was no hesitation in his voice. No doubt.
Wyatt raised an eyebrow.
“And how,” he asked carefully, “are you so confident?”
For a brief second, Darren’s expression sharpened–calculating whether the question crossed a line.
It didn’t.
Wyatt had earned enough trust.
Darren straightened, clasping his hands loosely behind his back.
“Let’s just say,” he replied, voice lowering almost lazily, “I made sure of that.”
Wyatt held his gaze.
There was no elaboration.
< Chapter 313
None needed.
*25 Pamts
Darren didn’t make idle claims. If he said he made sure, then he had. And in Darren’s language, making
sure rarely meant hope.
It meant contingency
It meant hunters. It meant blades that left little evidence. It meant no loose ends.
A slow smirk tugged at Wyatt’s mouth.
He had known Darren long enough to understand the weight behind those words. Darren was not the type
to gamble his ascent on chance. If Roman had simply been banished, Darren would have calculated the
probability of survival–and then reduced it.
“I trust you.” Wyatt said simply.
Darren’s smile widened just slightly.
“You should.”
They resumed walking.
Below them, the forest stirred in the wind, branches bending and swaying in quiet obedience to forces
unseen.
“You’ll call for the formal vote soon?” Wyatt asked after a moment.
“When the time is right,” Darren answered. “Let them grieve their idealism first. Let them grow accustomed to my presence at the head of the table. By the time the vote is called, it will feel inevitable.”
“And Harkin?”
Darren’s jaw tightened faintly.
“He’s testing limits. That’s all. If he pushes too far…” His shoulders lifted in a faint shrug. “Even elders can
lose favor.”
Wyatt nodded once.
The wind shifted, colder now.
Darren paused again at the edge of the balcony before turning back toward the main hall. His gaze drifted briefly toward the distant tree line.
Somewhere out there, beyond Stonevale’s territory, beyond their control, was the lifeless body of the boy the elders still called rightful.
Darren’s expression hardened.
“Cursed,” he muttered quietly. “Weak.”
Then he turned away.
< Chapter 313
25 Points
“Prepare the patrol reports for tonight,” he instructed Wyatt. “And tighten the northern border. I don’t want rumors traveling farther than they already have.”
Wyatt inclined his head. “Consider it done. My Alpha.”
Darren Loved the sound of that.
BLOOD CRESCENT
ROMAN
I stared at the ceiling for a long moment, letting my breathing steady.
I dragged a hand over my face and exhaled slowly. My body felt heavy, but not in the way it had before.
Not fever–heavy. Just… sluggish from sleep.
I shifted slightly on the bed.
And paused.
I waited for the familiar sting along my side.
It didn’t come.
A faint crease formed between my brows.
Maybe I hadn’t moved enough.
Carefully, I rolled onto my other side.
Still nothing.
That made me open my eyes fully.
The last thing I clearly remembered before the fever swallowed me was the pain. Sharp, persistent. Deep
enough that breathing had been uncomfortable. Sitting up had been worse. I had grown used to measuring
my movements around it.
Now?
I pushed myself upright.
Too fast.
I braced instinctively, expecting the pull along my ribs, the protest from torn flesh.
Nothing.
No dizziness either.
I blinked.
That wasn’t right.
< Chapter 313
+25 Points
I swung my legs over the side of the bed and sat there, shoulders tense, waiting for the delayed ache.
Still nothing.
Slowly, almost cautiously, I placed my hand over my side…over the exact spot where the worst of it had
been.
I pressed lightly at first.
No tenderness.
I pressed harder.
Nothing.
My pulse ticked up.
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
