Chapter 10 Raven and elven mole

Vane did not return to his throne.

Instead, he stood at the base of the dais and pulled a silver-cased pocket watch from his tunic. He clicked it open, staring at the ticking hands. His grip did not loosen, even after he had read the time.

"The clock is ticking," Vane said, his voice shedding its feral rage and returning to its formal authority. "The Covenant of the Gavel expires in three days. For centuries, this treaty has been the only thing keeping the streets from running red."

The elders shifted uneasily. One man's hand found the arm of his chair and did not let go.

"The last time the Covenant was allowed to elapsed without renewal," a voice rasped from the back of the semicircle, "the Longest Winter took fifty-two of our wolves. I was a pup then. I still remember what the North smelled like that year."

Silence answered him.

No one needed to ask what had happened during that period.

Vane snapped the watch shut and looked up at the council of elders. They nodded grimly, though their agreement seemed more like a decision to walk into fire because the alternative was worse.

"The Covenant must be renewed, Alpha," another elder rasped, bowing his head. "We cannot afford a war on two fronts."

"Exactly," Vane said softly, turning back towards the room. "Peace is a fragile thing. It is slipping through our fingers as we speak."

"We cannot be the ones to start a war."

Elder Brahma's voice cracked across the hall, sharper than an elder was supposed to speak in that room. Two other elders near the wall flinched at the sound.

"But we cannot survive being the ones caught unprepared for it either, Alpha. Not after Norway. Not after Lyra."

The name landed in the room like a struck bell.

Vane's jaw remained still, but something behind his eyes shifted. For an instant, his thoughts turned from the Alpha's responsibilities to the daughter whose mistake threatened to cost his dominion dearly.

"Instruct everyone to hasten the preparations," he ordered, his voice flat and final. "We leave for London within the day. I will sign that treaty and ensure the vampires do not have any loophole to pin anything on us again."

---

ELARA — EN ROUTE FROM THORNEWOOD

Two sturdy elk pulled the carriage as it drifted just above the ground. The elves still preferred the old ways to the modern cars used by the other species.

Elara stopped beneath a tree beside the road.

There were no houses in sight, and no travellers passed by. She looked in every direction and listened carefully until she was certain she stood entirely alone.

Her hands moved with practised ease. She had done this many times before.

She spoke soft words only elves could shape, and a raven dropped from the branches to land upon her palm.

She pressed a folded scrap of parchment against its feathers, whispered a single word—

"Fyrenael."

Then she released it.

The raven beat its wings and disappeared into the clouds.

A faint smile touched Elara's lips as she watched it vanish. She turned back towards the elk and signalled them forward.

She had delivered many such messages.

This one felt different.

This one brought the promise closer.

+THORNE CHEN PACK HOUSE

Alpha Vane sat at the table near the window, a stack of border reports spread beneath one hand, the other wrapped around a glass he hadn't touched in an hour. The fire had burned low enough that most of the room sat in shadow, leaving only the small circle of candlelight where he worked.

The door opened.

Elena stepped through, wrapped in nothing but a towel. Her silver hair was still damp, darker at the ends, and droplets of water glistened along her collarbone. She said nothing at first. She simply let him look.

Vane turned towards her, but his gaze soon returned to the reports.

"Thornewood Academy," he said coldly.

"She leaves tomorrow."

Elena crossed the room slowly and perched on the edge of the table, directly between him and the reports he had stopped reading.

"Why there, of all places?"

"Because she needs to heal."

Vane let out a sharp, humourless sound that was not quite a laugh. "She is the daughter of the Alpha of Alphas. She does not need healing. She needs to find a proper mate. An Alpha who can erase the stench of that Beta from our history."

"There are wolves at Thornewood," Elena said, her voice deliberately light.

"Southern wolves." Vane stood. The movement brought him close enough for his hand to settle on her waist. "They bow to me because they fear me, but they are rebellious. They resent our Northern laws. They want independence. Putting our heir in their territory is a risk."

Elena cupped his jaw. Her fingers traced the rough stubble, guiding his face towards hers with no real force, only the certainty of a woman who had never needed to force him.

"They fear you too much to touch her, Vane. Lyra is not just your heir. She is your daughter. And she is broken."

"She should have listened to me," he growled.

"She was in love."

"Love." The word ground against his teeth. "We are royalty. Love shouldn't be the first thing we consider. We have duty. We do not have the luxury of love when the bloodline is at stake."

Elena's eyes flashed. Amber bled into their natural brown as her wolf surfaced.

"And yet you marked me. I wasn't your fated mate, Vane. She died before you could mark her, and you chose me. You claimed me. Not because of duty. Because you wanted me," she whispered, reminding him of their history.

She let the towel slip slightly lower on her shoulder. It was no accident.

Vane fell silent. His grey eyes searched hers.

"I knew you would be my perfect Luna," he replied with a smile.

"Then don't lecture me on the weakness of love."

He looked away, his jaw tightening. Elena pulled his face back towards hers, refusing to let him hide. This time, she didn't stop at his jaw. Her palm slid slowly down his chest, and she watched his attention follow her hand.

"Let her go. Let her find herself before she finds a mate."

"And if she does not find one?" Vane asked, though his voice had already lost some of its edge.

"Then she will be like me." Elena leaned closer, her breath warm against his ear. "A chosen mate. Not a fated one."

He stared at her for a moment. She could see the precise instant the argument in his head began to lose ground to the woman standing before him.

"The pack will talk." His voice dropped to a lethal rasp, though it had softened for an entirely different reason. "They look at her and see a crack in our foundation."

"Then let them talk." Her hand tightened against his jaw.

"Sometimes I wish you had given me a son," Vane said.

"Lyra is better and stronger than any son you could have. Just give her a chance to prove it."

Vane said nothing. The only sound in the chamber was the fire settling in the grate.

Then he pulled her against his chest, his teeth grazing her neck in an unmistakable reminder of his claim.

"If she fails again..."

"She will not."

"If she brings shame to this house again..."

"She will not."

He bit down hard.

Elena gasped, her claws digging into his shoulders and shredding the linen of his shirt. He held her against him, his fangs buried in her throat, her blood hot on his tongue.

The anxiety in Vane's chest did not disappear. It merely shifted into something hungrier.

He swept the reports off the table with one arm. They scattered across the floor in a flutter of parchment.

Elena watched them fall before looking up at him. She used one hand to unhook the towel and let it fall before diving into his arm. Alpha vane caught her and  lifted her as she locked her legs around his waist.