The carved bone arrived tied to a dead raven's leg, dropped at the outer gate by a single rider who fled before the guards could reach him.
I held the thing in the war room while the kings gathered close. The runes were cut deep into the pale surface, spelling a single demand: the twins by the next full moon or the northern triad would burn every farm until nothing remained.
I set the bone on the table and looked at the kings. Darius's jaw tightened. Kane's scarred fingers flexed near his knife. Rylan's hand rested on the hilt of his axe. The bond between us pulled tight, the four of us linked in the same cold anger.
"Fucking bastards! We take this to the hall," I said. "The pack hears it all. No secrets."
