I saw a shadow crouch there. I was certain it wasn't Gunnar because it was smaller and had a female aura and a familiar scent.
It was Sunna.
She pressed a finger to her lips and slipped inside, eyes wide and wild. "Elva. I followed the scouts. They don't know I'm here. Listen, your mom sent me. She says Jakob is planning something bigger. He's not done with you. Neither is Sveinn. They're calling in the old packs. They want you dead before the next full moon."
She grabbed my hand. Hers was shaking. "And there's more. Your bloodline? It's not just Lycan. It's something the elders buried. Something that could break every treaty on the continent."
Outside, a guard's footsteps crunched closer.
Sunna squeezed outside and disappeared back into the night.
I sat there in the dark, heart racing, the spark in my chest burning like a promise.
Whatever secret my parents buried, it was waking up with me.
And tomorrow when we rode for the Lycan King's keep, I had a feeling the real war was only starting.
Shortly after Sunna left, the big Lycan soldier watching over me poked his head in, eyes scanning the dark. I kept my face blank, breathing slow.
"Everything good in here?" he grunted.
"Yeah," I said, voice steady enough. "Just couldn't sleep."
He sniffed once, shrugged, and let the flap drop. I waited until his boots crunched away before I let out the breath I'd been holding.
Sunna's words kept looping in my head. *Your mom sent me. Your father is planning something bigger. They want you dead before the next full moon.* And that bit about my bloodline, not just Lycan, something buried that could shatter treaties. My own parents had known all along and still let Sveinn spit on me in front of the whole pack.
I pressed my palms to my eyes until I saw sparks. *Fuck them. All of them.* The spark in my chest flared hotter, like it agreed and wanted to burn the whole damn forest down. My bitten arm itched under the rag. I peeled it back. The gash looked smaller already, edges knitting together weirdly fast. Not normal. Not Shadowpine normal anyway.
Outside, the camp stirred. Voices low, metal clinking, horses snorting. Dawn was creeping in through the canvas. I pulled on the clean shirt they'd left me. It hung to my thighs and still carried Gunnar's scent and stepped out.
Gunnar stood by the biggest fire, with his back to me, talking quiet with Matthías. His shoulder wound was just a pink line now. The bastard healed like it was nothing. He turned when he heard me, his eyes running over me once, slow. "You look like shit."
"Yea, I feel like it too," I shot back. "Your guard dogs any good or do I have to watch my own back?"
Matthías barked a laugh. "She's got mouth on her, King."
Gunnar didn't smile. "That's good. She'll need it where we're going." He jerked his chin at a fresh horse, saddled and waiting. "Ride with me again. We leave now."
I didn't argue. My legs still felt shaky but sitting still would've driven me crazier. I swung up behind him easy this time, arms around his waist without thinking. I felt the bond tugged low in my gut, warm and pissed off at the same time. *Not now, traitor body.*
We moved out before the sun cleared the trees. Twenty riders total, Sveinn tied across a spare horse like a sack of meat. His face was swollen, one eye shut, but he was awake enough to glare daggers at me when we passed. I flipped him off. Childish, sure, but it felt fucking great.
The trail wound deeper into Ironfang land. Pines gave way to rocky hills, then thick old-growth forest that smelled like moss and centuries of blood. Gunnar kept the pace steady, not rushing but not babying anyone. After an hour he spoke without turning his head.
"Sunna came to you last night."
I stiffened. "How the hell —"
"Her scent's all over your tent. And you're a shit liar." He shrugged, muscles shifting under my hands. "What'd she say?"
I weighed it for half a second. Lying wouldn't get me anywhere with him. "My mom sent her. Jakob's cooking up something. He wants me dead before the next moon. And my bloodline… it's not just Lycan. The elders buried shit that could wreck every treaty on the continent."
Gunnar stayed quiet so long I thought he'd dropped it. Then he laughed once, low and dark. "Figures. Your father always smelled like a man with extra cards up his sleeve."
"You knew Jakob?"
"Met him twice. Once when he begged for the alliance last winter. Once when he tried to sell me border rights he didn't own." Gunnar's hand brushed mine where I held his jacket. The touch was quick but it sent that spark racing up my arm. "Whatever they buried, it's waking up in you. That's why your wolf wouldn't rise for that weak prick Sveinn. It was waiting for real blood."
I swallowed hard. "And you? You want the real blood or just the leverage?"
He turned the horse around a sharp bend. The trail dropped into a narrow valley. "Both. But mostly I want you alive long enough to figure out what the fuck you are. Dead mates don't do me any good."
Mates... The word still felt like a slap. I opened my mouth to tell him exactly where he could shove that bond when hoofbeats pounded up from behind. Matthías pulled alongside, face tight.
"Scout just caught us. Shadowpine's moving faster than we thought. Jakob himself is leading a war party of hundred strong, plus two allied packs. They're cutting straight for the keep. And they're spreading word you stole their Luna to start a war."
Gunnar cursed under his breath. "They want her dead that bad?"
"Worse. They want her alive long enough to bleed the secret out of her first. Then dead."
My stomach dropped. Dad. Leading the charge. The man who used to carry me on his shoulders during pack runs now wanted to carve me open for whatever power I carried. I dug my fingers into Gunnar's sides until my knuckles hurt.
Sveinn's voice floated up from the prisoner horse, rough and mocking. "Told you she was poison. Kill me now or you'll regret it when my father rips your throat out."
Gunnar reined in hard. The whole column stopped. He swung down, walked back, and grabbed Sveinn by the hair, yanking his head up. "You're alive because I might need you as a shield when your pack shows up crying. Keep running your mouth and I change my mind."
Sveinn spat blood at Gunnar's boots. "She'll break you too. Just like she broke me."
I slid off the horse before I even thought about it. My bare feet hit cold dirt and I stalked over, that fire under my skin roaring now. "Broke you? You rejected me in front of everyone. Called me worthless. Let them throw rocks at me. And now you're pissed someone else picked up your trash?"
He laughed, savagely. "Trash with a death mark on it. Your own mother cried when they locked you up. Said it was for the best."
The words hit harder than any rock last night. Mom. Merja Niskanen, who wouldn't even look at me on the altar. Crying. For the best.
I got closer and slapped him so hard my palm stung. "Shut the fuck up."
Gunnar caught my wrist before I could do it again. Not rough. Just enough to stop me. His eyes met mine and for once they weren't cold. "Save it. We ride harder now."
He lifted me back onto the horse like I weighed nothing. The column kicked into a faster trot. Trees blurred past. My cheek burned from the slap I'd given Sveinn and my mind spun worse. Mom crying. Dad leading a war party. My blood carrying something that could break treaties. And this bond with Gunnar pulling tighter every mile.
We crested a ridge two hours later. Ironfang Keep sprawled below us; black stone walls, towers like broken teeth, banners snapping in the wind. Bigger than anything Shadowpine had. Smoke rose from forges inside. Wolves patrolled the walls, some shifted, some not.
Gunnar slowed the horse at the gate. Guards shouted down. The portcullis groaned up.
Matthías rode up beside us. "Word from the southern scout. Jakob's party is six hours behind us. They'll hit the outer border by nightfall."
Gunnar nodded once. "Double the watch. Lock Sveinn in the pit. And get Elva inside before anyone else smells her blood."