Page 71 of Feral Fates
A laugh breaks free, the sound rusty but genuine. “You’ve ruined me, little wolf.”
Her smile is wicked, satisfied in a way I’ve never seen before. “I’ll ruin you again. Just give me five minutes and a glass of water.”
My chest shakes with laughter, joy and relief and a hundred other emotions I can’t name washing through me. “Deal.”
As my knot slowly begins to recede, I hold her close, memorizing every detail of this moment—the way her body fits perfectly against mine, the weight of her in my arms, the scent of us mingled on her skin.
The war is coming. Thaddeus gathers his forces. A traitor moves among us. But right here, right now, none of that matters.
She is mine. I am hers. And woe be to anyone who tries to separate us.
Chapter
Twenty
As the days tick down toward the new moon, the atmosphere in the Shadowmist den shifts. Where before there was tension and preparation, now there’s grim determination, an almost palpable sense of imminent confrontation. The new moon is just two days away, and every pack member old enough to fight has been assigned to defensive positions.
“You’re certain about the timing?” Ryker asks as we review the latest intelligence in our chambers. Maps cover every surface, marked with defensive positions and enemy approach vectors based on my visions.
“Yes,” I confirm, tracing the southern approach with my finger. “Thaddeus will lead the main force himself. They’ll reach the outer perimeter just before midnight on the new moon.” I indicate another position on the map. “The east force will move an hour earlier, hoping to emerge behind our lines during the initial engagement.”
Ryker studies the markings, his expression thoughtful. We’ve prepared for this attack from every angle—traps laid along approach routes, and ambush points established.There’s nothing more we can do but keep adjusting as we gain new information.
I should feel confident in our preparations, but unease lingers at the edges of my awareness.
It makes me nervous.
A sharp knock interrupts my thoughts. Lithia enters without waiting for permission, her scarred face tense with urgency.
“Forgive the intrusion, Alpha, but a messenger has arrived at our borders. From the Grand Alpha himself.”
Ryker straightens, immediately alert. “Carrying what message?”
“A truce offer.” Lithia’s expression reflects her skepticism. “Thaddeus requests a summit. Neutral territory. Tomorrow at midday.”
The timing is too convenient to be coincidence—just one day before their planned attack.
“Who delivered this request?”
“One of his personal guards. Alone, unarmed, carrying the white flag of parley.” Lithia’s voice carries grudging respect for the messenger. “It bears Thaddeus’s seal.”
Ryker turns to me, his mismatched gaze questioning. “What do you see, little mate?”
I close my eyes, reaching not for a full vision but for the intuitive sense my gift provides even without the Well’s amplification.
But something catches.
A thread. A pull.
I frown, focusing.
The world tilts.
My breath catches as I’m dragged under—not gently, not like the warm pull of the Vision Well, but like claws yanking me into freezing water.
Darkness.
Then firelight.
