Gunnar looked down at me. For a second his face wasn't the cold Lycan King. It was something rawer. "You will fight. But not like this. Not half-dead on your feet." His thumb brushed my jaw, rough and warm. "Go with Sunna. Clean up and eat something. I'll handle the walls."
I wanted to argue. The bond and the fire both screamed at me to stay glued to his side. But my arm was throbbing worse and my head felt like it was splitting open. I let Sunna pull me up and steer me toward a side door.
We walked down a narrow hall to a small room with a real bed and a basin of water. Sunna shut the door and helped me peel off the bloody shirt. The gash on my arm had closed some more, but the skin around it looked silver now, like faint scales catching the lantern light.
"Your mom said the bond will help control it," she whispered while she washed the blood off my shoulder. "But it'll pull you two closer. Fast. You sure you're ready for that?"
I stared at my reflection in the basin water. Eyes still glowing faint silver. Hair wild. Scratches on my face I didn't remember getting. "Ready? I got rejected, locked up, claimed by a king, and grew roots out of the fucking ground all in one night. Ready left the building."
Sunna smiled small. "Fair."
She helped me into a clean tunic and I dropped onto the bed. My body felt heavy as lead. The fire inside had banked low, but it wasn't sleeping. It was waiting. Watching.
Sunna sat on the edge of the bed. "One more thing Merja told me. The elders aren't just coming for you. They're coming for Gunnar too. His line was supposed to be the other half of the crown. If you two complete the bond… they lose everything they built on the split. That's why they'll throw every wolf they have at these walls."
I closed my eyes. The flashes came again. The thrones, red moon, Gunnar standing beside me with a crown that wasn't made of gold but bone and moonlight. My hand found the cracked pendant. Still cold. Still fighting.
Sleep dragged me under before I could answer.
I was out for a few days because I was injured and my power severely drained.
* * * * * * * * * *
I woke up to shouting.
Not the good kind. Alarm horns blasting outside, boots pounding the hall, someone yelling my name.
Sunna was already up, dagger in hand. "Elva... get up. They're here. Not Jakob. Something else. Green smoke everywhere and the sky just went wrong."
I sat up fast. My arm didn't hurt anymore. The fire was wide awake.
I yanked the door open and ran to the courtyard. Gunnar was already there, with his sword out, staring up at the sky. It had turned the color of old bruises: purple and black, clouds swirling like they were alive. Green lightning flickered between them. The air smelled like ozone and old graves.
Matthías sprinted up. "Scout says it's the elders' work. They're five miles out but their magic got here first. Jakob's with them. And they brought the Black Council. All twelve."
Gunnar looked at me. His eyes were hard again, but the bond between us pulled tight like a rope. "You ready for this?"
I flexed my hand. Claws slid out smooth this time. No pain. Just power. The cracked pendant vibrated against my chest like a second heartbeat.
"No," I said. "But they're not getting another chance to bury me."
The first crack of green lightning hit the outer wall. Stone exploded. Wolves howled. And somewhere in the distance I heard Jakob's voice carrying on the wind, calling my name like a curse.
The real fight was here.
And this time I wasn't the one in chains.
The first crack of green lightning hit the outer wall and the whole keep shook like it wanted to come down on our heads. Stone exploded outward in a shower of black shards. Wolves howled; some ours, some theirs. And Jakob's voice rode the wind like a curse, thin and hateful, calling my name over and over. "Elva… Elva… come out, daughter. The elders want their due."
I wasn't in chains anymore. That much I knew. My bare feet were planted on the courtyard stones, claws already out, and the fire in my chest roared so loud it drowned the screaming. Gunnar stood right beside me, sword in one hand, the other gripping my elbow like he could anchor me to the ground. The bond between us pulled tight, hot and steady, pushing back against whatever the hell the elders had just thrown at us.
Sunna slammed the hall door behind us and cursed. "That's elder magic. Green means binding spells. They're trying to drag your power out before it finishes waking."
Matthías came running from the gate tower, blood on his cheek that wasn't his. "South wall's cracked but holding. Nina's got archers up there. But the sky... look at the fucking sky."
I looked. The clouds had turned the color of old bruises, swirling slow like they were alive and pissed. Green veins of lightning forked between them, each one brighter than the last. Every strike made the cracked pendant on my chest vibrate harder, like it was fighting to stay in one piece.
Gunnar's voice cut through the noise. "Elva. Breathe. You feel that pull? That's me. Use it. Don't let their shit rip you open."
I nodded once. My arm still burned from where the roots had come out earlier, but now the skin there looked like faint silver scales catching the weird light. I flexed my fingers and the claws lengthened smooth, no pain this time. Just power. Raw and ready.
Another bolt slammed into the east tower. Stone rained down. A Lycan on the wall screamed as he fell. I didn't think. I just ran for the stairs, Gunnar right on my heels. Sunna and Matthías followed. My heart hammered but my head felt clear for the first time since the ceremony.
This wasn't fear.
This was the match they'd tried to bury finally catching up.
We got to the battlement just as another strike lit up the sky. Below the wall Jakob stood at the front of a new line. It was bigger than before. Elders in black robes rode behind him on gray horses, hands raised, green light pouring from their palms. Twelve of them. They were the Black Council. I recognized two from old pack stories: they had withered faces, their eyes like dead moons and they had come for me.
Jakob spotted me and pointed with his sword. "There she is! The half-breed whore and her Lycan dog! Take her alive if you can. Dead if you must. Either way works, I just want her brought to me. Her blood ends tonight."