Elena pulled her shoulder from Valerian’s hand.
Her knees trembled; she kept them locked until she could speak.
“Take me to him.”
Valerian left his hands at his sides.
“Bring the ward healer here. Keep Vance under guard.”
She endured the washing and binding of her left side with her teeth set.
The draught was bitter, and the healer made her sit until she could hold the cup without spilling it.
Twice she tried to stand.
Twice her legs folded.
By dusk she reached the arch with one hand along the wall, though the burn in her chest had not eased.
Guards were carrying Tyler through the guest passage.
Valerian sent them toward the lower cells.
Elena followed down the slick stairs, waiting at each turn for the dizziness to pass.
In the third stall they chained Tyler’s wrists to the wall rings.
When his knees sagged, she pointed to a stool; a guard set it beneath him.
His bandage showed through his torn shirt, and every breath she drew echoed in his chest.
Tyler lifted his chin.
“You came.” A cough speckled his collarbone with dark phlegm.
“Shut your mouth.” She stepped over the rusted threshold.
The old tether dragged at her belly.
Asteria paced within her, restless beneath the bandage, while Valerian filled the doorway and blocked what little light reached the cell.
His fingers rested motionless on his sword hilt.
“Why did you stop before the life-release?” Elena asked.
“You knew I had not accepted. You never offered to finish your part.”
Tyler gave a weak, broken laugh.
“I thought you wanted freedom, Elena.”
“Do not lie to me,” she said.
She stepped within his reach and drove two fingers into the hollow above his collarbone.
Tyler screamed against the chains.
The shock struck Elena’s shoulder too, nearly folding her over the stool.
Asteria roared within her.
Elena kept her fingers in place and pressed harder until she could separate the pain from the pulse beneath them.
Three quick surges.
She recognized their rhythm: with each, the wound under her bandage drew inward.
She eased her pressure.
The surges continued.
Hurting him had not begun them; taking her hand away would not end them.
“You are draining my marrow,” she said.
“Every hour I breathe, you pull from me. Who taught you that rite?”
Tyler wept, tears cutting clean gray lines through the filth on his face.
“I swear to you, Elena. I never wanted this poison.”
“Who gave you the verse?”
“My father taught me the verse,” Tyler said.
“Camilla found a surviving preparation sheet in the elder crypts three days before your birthday. The blood source and opening were on it. Not the whole rite.” He swallowed, trying to straighten on the stool.
“My father died three winters ago without naming an heir. The pack accepted my command. Harlan kept the wards, but they were still failing.”
Elena removed her fingers.
The triplet pulse continued beneath her own bandage.
“What had your father told you about me?”
“That a Warden mate could limit an Alpha’s command.” He strained toward her until the cuffs scraped his wrists.
“I thought he meant a woman who could shift. I thought yours would stay dormant. On rejection night I taught Camilla the ordinary life-release words. She said leaving your acceptance and my life-release unfinished would draw enough from you to hold the valley’s north edge.” His gaze dropped to her bandage.
“I let her use it.”
Valerian stepped into the cell, his boots sinking into the wet bedding.
“You used my Queen as cattle.”
“She was my mate!” Tyler screamed back, his fevered eyes bulging in terror.
“I was saving my pack! Camilla promised me Elena would stay in the lower quarters as an omega. Nobody was supposed to hurt her. She was supposed to sleep in the dispensary and feed the wards until spring!”
“You left me in the mud for your title,” Elena said.
“I needed the alliance,” Tyler pleaded, his voice breaking into a dry sob.
“Camilla’s father commands forty heavy blades. Without his warriors, Silvercrest would fall to the first winter raid. You could not give me an army, Elena!”
Elena felt her stomach turn cold with disgust.
Forty swords.
She had counted that price before he opened his mouth in the birthday clearing.
He had called her wolfless and turned away rather than defend it.
Now, chained to a wall, he was asking her to understand the bargain that had put her in the mud.
Valerian drew his black blade with a sound like tearing silk.
He caught Tyler by his tangled hair, jerking the young Alpha’s throat tight against the honed steel edge.
“Offer her the life-release,” Valerian said.
“When she accepts, open your veins and speak it. Refuse, and I will cut your throat myself.”
“Go on, do it!” Tyler yelled, spitting red foam across Valerian’s leather vambrace.
“Cut my throat, Lycan! If you snap the cord tonight, the northern boundary stones collapse before mid-passage! Four hundred omegas and children sleep in the valley below those stones. When the wards break, the mountain cold will freeze them in their beds before morning!”
Elena put her palm against Valerian’s chest before the blade could move.
Heat came through his tunic.
He did not yield, but his eyes left Tyler and settled on her; his upper lip lifted from his fangs.
“Stand back, Elena.”
“Sheathe the blade.”
“He fed on your life.” The words vibrated against her palm.
“He crippled your beast to keep his walls standing. He dies here.”
“Mira’s mother is in those kennels. She can barely stand. Toby is eight, and his little sister is there too.” Elena pressed her hand flat against him.
“The washerwomen carried broth to my mother’s cot when our rations were cut. Move the blade away until I know the stones can hold without him.”
“They stood in the circle and watched him cast you out,” Valerian snarled.
“They were unarmed omegas,” she said.
“He just told us he meant to keep you feeding those stones until spring.” Valerian’s gaze dropped to her bandage.
“You could barely stand at that stair.” He bent until his mouth brushed her temple.
“And now I hear you keeping him alive.” Read this novel at g.com for the best experience.
“I am defending people who cannot hold a sword.”
His jaw tightened against her.
“You still bleed for him.”
“I bleed for myself.” She did not lift her palm from his chest.
“Do not confuse my mercy with devotion to that coward.”
“Then let him bleed.” Valerian tightened his fist in Tyler’s hair.
“Let his pack freeze. A true Queen protects her own court, not the dogs that kicked her into the woods.”
Elena looked at the blade beneath Tyler’s jaw.
She had named three people in a locked kennel, and Valerian had not moved it.
Through the wool she felt his heart, steady against the erratic beat in her own chest.
His mouth was still close enough to touch her; she stayed where she was.
“Let me reach the stones first. Kill him now and I go south without your guard. I will not sit beside you while they die.”
His fist stopped tightening.
He lowered the blade, leaving a thin line under Tyler’s chin.
Elena waited until the edge was clear before taking her hand away.
Valerian stepped back without looking at the stool or Tyler’s bandage.
He had spared the man.
About the people in the valley, he had given her no answer.
Heavy boots clattered down the stone stairs before either of them could speak another word.
Lord Cassian entered the vault, flanked by two citadel guards bearing poleaxes.
“Put the steel away, King Valerian,” Cassian commanded, holding up a folded paper sealed with dark gray wax.
“The Council of Fangs has reached its verdict.”
Valerian turned around, though he kept the bare blade resting against his thigh.
“This parley was granted under my authority, Cassian. The council does not issue rulings without my seal.”
“Ancient blood law supersedes the throne during parley,” Cassian replied, extending the paper toward Elena.
“Alpha Vance entered our gates under the white branch. His blood cannot be shed in chains while the parley holds.”
Elena stepped toward the decree.
“What does the council want?”
“It will not shelter a drain into enemy territory,” Cassian said.
“Orin confirms the tether survives. Your blood feeds Silvercrest’s failing wards while the crown protects you here. The lords demand that it end.”
“Those wards keep four hundred omegas alive.”
“We do not wage war to warm foreign omegas. At dawn, on the Solstice dais, you face the Trial of Loyalty.”
“What are the conditions?”
“The Oath of Renunciation. You will speak your acceptance of Vance’s rejection. He will open his veins and give the life-release verse before the elders. No unfinished cord will remain to feed his wards. Let Silvercrest bear the loss.”
Elena stared at the sealed decree in his hands.
“And if I refuse to speak the oath at dawn?”
Cassian did not hesitate.
“Failure of standing sends me south,” Elena said.
“That was the judgment.”
“That is not the charge I am bringing.” Cassian tapped the lower seal.
“Aiding an armed foreign pack while under our protection. The council hears that charge at dawn, beside the loyalty oath. Refuse, and I will ask them to convict you. Then you hang before the third bell.”