C16 Blood before dawn

The kiss still burned on Lucas’s lips when Vashti finally left his chamber, her expression guarded but her eyes glowing with the fire of the bond they could no longer deny.

Exhaustion tugged at his body. He lay back, Zoe curled close beside him on the bed, her little hand clutched around his wrist. Sleep pulled at him like a tide.

But it did not last.

The window creaked open. A shadow slipped through—silent, swift. Another followed. Two assassins, cloaked in Gravelmoon black. Their blades gleamed with silver.

Lucas’s wolf stirred instantly, a low growl vibrating in his chest. His eyes snapped open. He shifted Zoe behind him in one motion, baring his teeth.

One assassin lunged. Lucas rolled off the bed, grabbing the wooden chair by the desk. He swung it hard, shattering it across the wolf’s chest. Bones cracked.

The second came from behind, slashing low. Pain ripped across Lucas’s leg as silver bit deep, but he snarled and turned, catching the wolf’s wrist. With a roar, he twisted until the assassin screamed and the blade clattered to the floor.

Zoe sobbed, “Papa!”

“Stay back, Zoe!” Lucas shouted, even as his blood slicked the floor. His wolf surged, stronger now than ever since the Trial. He slammed the assassin into the wall, his claws tearing through flesh.

The first assassin recovered, charging with another blade. Lucas spun, taking the cut across his arm but using the momentum to tackle the wolf head-on. They crashed to the ground. Silver hissed against his skin, burning, but he drove his claws through the wolf’s throat until the gurgling stopped.

The second staggered up, clutching his ruined arm, and bolted for the window. Lucas was too bloodied to chase. He collapsed against the wall, panting, silver still lodged in his leg.

Zoe crawled to him, tears streaking her cheeks. “Papa, don’t die. Please don’t die.”

He pulled her close, voice raw. “I won’t, little wolf. Not while you need me.”

By dawn, the news spread like fire. Assassins in the queen’s packhouse—striking not at her, but at him.

The council chamber was a storm. Elder Rhygar’s voice rang above the others, sharp and furious.

“You see? This is what comes of harboring him! The Gravelmoon filth brings danger to our walls, to our pups! If he remains, Paxton will bleed!”

Murmurs of fear swept through the council. Wolves nodded. Some demanded Lucas’s exile. Others whispered death.

Vashti sat on her throne, her knuckles white on the armrests. The queen in her demanded calm, but the mate in her raged at the thought of anyone laying a hand on him.

Rhygar slammed his palm against the table. “I call for a vote! Either cast him out, or risk war!”

The chamber roared in agreement.

And in that moment, Vashti rose. Her wolf flared, golden light flooding her eyes, silencing the chamber.

“No one,” she growled, her voice laced with Alpha command, “touches my mate.”

The words rang like thunder. Wolves gasped. The declaration hung in the air—undeniable, irreversible.

Rhygar’s face twisted into a smile. “So it is true. The queen admits her sin.”

The council erupted into chaos, but Rhygar’s smirk said it all.

He had been waiting for this.

And now, with the queen’s confession, he had everything he needed to move against her.

********************

The council chamber was still ringing with shouts when Vashti stormed out, her wolf’s power still pulsing through the stone halls. Behind her, guards tried to contain the chaos, but the scent of fear and fury clung to the air like smoke.

Lucas waited in the shadows of the corridor, Zoe clutching his hand. He’d heard enough through the walls to know the truth: Vashti had claimed him openly. There was no going back.

Her eyes met his, gold still flickering in her irises. For one heartbeat, the bond between them blazed with warmth. But then the sound of approaching boots broke it, and she ushered him quickly into a side chamber.

Inside, away from prying eyes, the weight of it all came crashing down.

“You shouldn’t have said it,” Lucas rasped, his voice tight. “Now they’ll never stop. Rhygar—he’ll kill you for it.”

Vashti rounded on him, her wolf bristling. “And what would you have me do? Deny you? Pretend the goddess’s bond doesn’t exist? You nearly died last night in my packhouse, and still they call you the danger?”

Lucas flinched at her fire, torn between awe and dread. Zoe’s small fingers squeezed his hand, grounding him.

Vashti’s voice softened. “I will not live in shadows anymore, Lucas. Not with you.”

He swallowed hard, torn in two. “And what if they take your throne for it? What if Zoe grows up hunted because of me?”

Her jaw tightened, her gaze fierce. “Then we make sure they fail.”

Elsewhere, deep in the council chambers, Elder Rhygar’s voice echoed in secret. The council had adjourned publicly, but half of them lingered in the dark.

“She has sealed her fate,” Rhygar said, spreading his hands. “The goddess may mark her choices, but Paxton is ruled by tradition. A queen who defies the council is no queen at all.”

Some wolves murmured agreement. Others hesitated.

“She commands loyalty,” one elder said cautiously. “The wolves still love her.”

Rhygar’s eyes glinted. “Then we turn their love against her. We show them that her mate endangers their children. We remind them that Gravelmoon blood is poison.”

A murmur of unease swept the chamber.

“And if she resists?” another elder asked.

Rhygar’s smile was cold. “Then the Paxton Pack will need a new Alpha. One chosen not by the goddess, but by the council.”

The silence that followed was heavy with treachery.

Back in the secluded chamber, Vashti pressed her hand over Lucas’s heart. “I will not surrender you. I will not surrender us. But if they mean to strip me of my throne…”

Lucas caught her wrist, his voice breaking. “Then what?”

Her gaze held his, unwavering. “Then we fight for it. Together.”

That night, in the village below the packhouse, Rhygar’s whispers began to spread.

By dawn, wolves would gather in the square—demanding their queen choose between her throne… or her mate.