My legs gave out the second we stepped off the battlement stairs. It was just a quiet buckle, like my body finally remembered it wasn't built for spitting ancient power at my own father.
Gunnar caught me before my body hit the stone. His arm locked around my waist, warm and solid, and that stupid bond flared hot under my ribs like it was saying *I got you*.
"Easy," he muttered. His voice was rough but not cold. "You just shook the ground. Give it a minute."
Sunna hovered on my other side, her eyes wide. "Elva, your arm... fuck, it's still bleeding. And your eyes… they're silver now. Like his."
I blinked hard. The world looked too sharp, edges glowing. The cracked pendant hung heavy between my breasts, cold as ice against the fire still simmering under my skin. Mom's three days? Gone. The stone had split clean when the roots shot out of the dirt. Whatever spell the elders had on me was probably already sniffing the air like a hungry wolf.
Matthías jogged up, wiping blood off his face with the back of his hand. "Gate's holding. We lost eight. They lost forty. And that root trick? Saved our asses. But the wounded are asking what the hell just happened."
Gunnar didn't answer him. He just scooped me up like I weighed nothing and started toward the main hall. I wanted to snap at him to put me down because I wasn't some damsel but my tongue felt thick and my claws (still half out, black and shiny) wouldn't shrink all the way. So I let him carry me. For now.
Inside, the hall smelled like smoke and sweat. Nina Logar was already barking at a group of warriors to clear tables for the injured. She glanced at me in Gunnar's arms and raised one eyebrow. "She break the keep or just the enemy?"
"Both," Gunnar said. He set me on a bench by the fire and crouched in front of me. His silver eyes locked on mine. Up close I saw the new cut on his jaw from the fight. Fresh blood, but already closing. Lucky bastard. "You still with me?"
I swallowed. My throat tasted like metal. "Yeah. Hurts. But… good hurt. Like something finally woke up." I flexed my right hand. The claws slid back slow, leaving bloody grooves in my palm. "Jakob's face when the roots grabbed them. That part felt really fucking good."
Sunna dropped onto the bench beside me and pressed a clean rag to my arm. "Your mom warned me this might happen fast. The Old Blood doesn't ask permission. It just takes."
Gunnar grabbed a flask from the table, poured something clear onto another rag, and started cleaning the gash without asking. It stung like hell. I hissed but didn't pull away. His fingers were careful in a way that didn't match the rest of him: big, scarred, built for breaking things. The bond tugged low in my gut again, warm and insistent. *Not now, you traitor.*
"Talk," he told Sunna. "Everything Merja said. No pretty words."
Sunna glanced at the door like she expected Jakob to burst through it any second. "The note was short, but she told me the rest before I slipped out. Elva's grandmother wasn't just Lycan. She was the last living descendant of the First Kings — the ones who ruled all the packs under one moon before the big split two hundred years ago. The elders and the Alphas got scared. They said the blood was too strong. One ruler, one law, no more border wars. They made a pact to suppress it. Poison in the bloodline, tracking spells, the works. Jakob married Merja knowing she carried it. Thought he could keep it quiet and use it someday. But when Elva didn't shift on ceremony night, he panicked. Figured the power had died out. Then you showed up, King, and the moon slapped him in the face."
I laughed once, bitter. "So dear old Dad tried to bury me in a cell to save his own ass. Nice."
Gunnar tied the rag tight around my arm. "And now the power's loose. Elders will feel it. They'll come with more than Jakob's hundred wolves."
Sunna nodded. "Merja said three days max before the tracking spell locks on again. But with the stone cracked? Could be hours. She also said the bond with you, Gunnar, is the only thing that can anchor it without killing Elva. Something about two halves of the same old curse. Your line and hers were supposed to rule together once."
Gunnar's hand stilled on my knee. He looked at me for a long beat. "Explains why the moon hit me like a hammer the second I saw her in that cell."
I met his eyes. The spark between us crackled so loud I swear the fire jumped. "Don't get any ideas. I'm not some prize you get to keep just because ancient blood says so."
His mouth twitched which was the closest thing to a smile I'd seen on him. "Too late. You're already mine. And right now that means keeping you alive."
Matthías stuck his head in from the courtyard. "King. Scout's back. Jakob didn't run far. He's camped five miles out with fresh reinforcements. And he's got a shaman sending up green smoke signals. Code for the elders. Word's spreading fast."
Gunnar stood up slow. "Double the watch. Bar the gates. And bring me Sveinn. I want him talking."
Two guards dragged Sveinn in a minute later. He looked worse. His face was bruised purple, one eye swollen shut but he still managed a sneer when he saw me. "Look at you. Playing queen already. How long before the Old Blood eats you from the inside?"
I stood up on shaky legs and stepped close enough to smell the blood on him. "Longer than it takes me to rip your throat out. You rejected me. Called me worthless. Now I'm the one with roots coming out of the ground. How's that feel?"
He laughed wet. "Feels like you're dead already. The elders don't negotiate. They erase. And when they come, they'll burn this whole keep just to get to you."
Gunnar grabbed him by the hair and slammed his head against the table once. Hard. "Names. Who's riding with Jakob? How many shamans?"
Sveinn spat blood on the floor. "You'll find out when they're at your walls. Elva's blood is a beacon now. Every pack that hates the idea of one king is coming. And they all want her head on a spike before she wakes up fully."
The fire in my chest flared again. The cracked pendant went icy cold, fighting it, but the power pushed back harder. My vision tunneled. I saw flashes: wolves running through snow, stone thrones cracking, a moon stained red. My knees buckled.
Gunnar caught me again. "Enough. Get him out of here. Chain him deeper."
Sunna helped lower me back to the bench. "She needs rest. The power's new. It'll tear her apart if she keeps pushing."
I grabbed Gunnar's wrist before he could step away. My claws were out again, just the tips. "I'm not resting while my father is five miles away planning how to gut me. I want to fight."