"On your knees, Damian."
The heavy oak doors behind me were still vibrating from the impact. In the Great Hall, everything froze: the elders' whispers, the clinking of goblets, even the torch flames seemed to stop flickering. The wolf inside me wasn't just howling—it was clawing at my ribs, demanding I rip the traitor's throat out right here, right now.
Damian didn't even turn around. He slowly finished his wine, studying the crimson dregs at the bottom of the cup, and only then deigned to turn his head. That same condescending smile played on his lips—the one I had grown used to regarding as a sign of ultimate tact.
"Cale? You're unusually loud today. Father taught us that an Alpha shouldn't shake the air over trifles."
I slammed a bundle of letters sealed with Silverclaw wax onto the table before him. One of the envelopes was torn open, revealing the lists of our patrols.
"Are these trifles? Is your signature on the plan to attack the northern border a trifle as well?"
Edric, sitting to the right of our father's empty chair, lunged to his feet, knocking over his chair. The crash of wood against stone rang out like a gunshot.
"Damian? What is the meaning of this?"
Damian finally stood. Slowly, smoothing the folds of his expensive doublet, as if we were discussing the weather rather than a death sentence.
"So, you did break into my safe after all. And here I thought, Cale, that your nobility wouldn't allow you to stoop to theft."
"Guards!"
My voice broke into a growl. Four warriors appeared in the doorway. They froze, glancing back and forth between Damian and me. Their hesitation was almost physically palpable—Damian had been their mentor for years, their right hand, their "rational Alpha."
"What are you waiting for?" I stepped forward, feeling my claws tear through the skin of my fingertips. "Take him. He is accused of high treason and conspiracy with the enemy."
"Stop."
Damian raised his hand. One short gesture, and the guards froze in their tracks.
"Do you truly believe this pup, blinded by rage and his... new toy, can judge fairly?" Damian swept his gaze across the hall, and I saw the elders avert their eyes. "Cale, you're so busy trying to hold onto power that you haven't noticed it slipping through your fingers."
"Shut up and get into the shackles before I rip your tongue out."
I took another step. The floor beneath my feet felt red-hot.
"Oh, you could kill me," Damian suddenly laughed. It was a dry, mocking sound. "But that won't change the fact that you are an idiot. You hold the key to world domination in your hands, and you use it to warm your bed."
He turned sharply and pointed a finger deep into the hall, toward where the servants and those without a vote were hiding behind the pillars.
"Alina, dear, come into the light. Let them see what the Silverclaws are willing to slaughter us down to the last pup for."
Alina flinched. Her face in the shadow of the pillar looked deathly pale. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to make herself even smaller.
"What are you talking about, traitor?" Edric gripped the hilt of his sword.
"Cale marks her as a slave," Damian raised his voice, drowning out the rising murmur. "He considers her trash, a useless omega, a mistake of nature. But her blood... Oh, her blood is the key. True power over all the packs, an ancient legacy that you thick-headed wolves have managed to forget."
"Take him! Now!" I lunged forward, closing the distance in a single leap.
The hall erupted.
A sharp, blinding white light struck my eyes, searing my retinas. The smell of ozone instantly filled my nostrils, mixing with bitter smoke. Someone screamed; the sound of breaking glass followed.
"Traitors among us!" one of the warriors roared.
I slashed with my claws where Damian had just been standing, but met only emptiness and acrid mist. The smoke stung my eyes. I could feel the pack falling into a panic around me: the sounds of blows, the screech of metal, orders dissolving into rasps.
"Block the exits!" my voice was drowned in the chaos.
Through the veil of smoke, I saw a silhouette by the side passage. Damian. One of my personal guards was holding the door open for him.
"You've lost, brother," his voice came, eerily calm amidst the madness. "You chose the girl, but you didn't understand what she is. Now, everyone will come for her. And I will be first in line."
"Stop!" I rushed toward him, knocking one of the elders off his feet.
The door slammed shut. From the other side came the grating sound of a bolt. I slammed my shoulder into the oak panel; the wood cracked but did not give.
"Alpha! Behind you!"
I spun around, catching an attacker's arm. It was one of the young warriors, madness in his eyes. I threw him against the wall, not even looking to see if he was alive. The mist began to thin, revealing a scene of destruction: overturned tables, wounded guards, scurrying shadows.
"He's gone..." Edric stood by the window, breathing heavily. A jagged wound gaped on his shoulder. "He escaped through the old tunnels. Cale, the guards at the gates... they aren't answering."
"To hell with the gates!" I looked around, searching the crowd for the only thing that mattered. "Where is she?"
"Cale, you must lead the pursuit!" Elder Gallar grabbed my elbow. His fingers were trembling. "Did you hear what he said? If it's true about her blood..."
I shook his hand off so hard the old man flew several meters back.
"I don't give a damn about his fairy tales."
I saw her. She was sitting on the floor, her back pressed against the cold stone of a pillar. Alina's eyes were huge, reflecting the glints of the dying torches. She wasn't crying, but she was shaking as if she were freezing in the dead of winter.
An ocean of voices raged around us.
"He is a traitor!"
"Did he tell the truth? About the omega?"
"The Silverclaws will be here by dawn!"
"Cale, answer us!"
I ignored them all. I took one step, then another. My boots splashed through spilled wine mixed with someone's blood. The wolf inside me was still demanding blood, demanding I pursue, tear, and kill, but as I approached her, the beast suddenly grew quiet.
I dropped to one knee right in front of her.
"Alina."
She didn't answer. Her gaze was fixed somewhere past me, where Damian had just been standing.
"Look at me."
I reached out, and she flinched visibly, expecting a blow or a jerk. I acted roughly—I simply didn't know any other way—grabbing her by the shoulders and pulling her toward me. She was so fragile, almost weightless in my hands, like a downed bird.
"Cale... what did... what did he say?" her voice was barely a whisper. "What blood?"
"Forget it. It's the rambling of a madman."
I cupped her head in my palms, forcing her to bury her face in my shoulder. I needed to drown out the chaos around us. The noise of the pack, the cries of the wounded, Edric's accusations—it all became background noise.
I buried my face in her neck, right where her pulse throbbed.
The scent.
Wild herbs, bitter wormwood, and icy fear. The aroma hit my head harder than any wine. My frenzied wolf, who just a second ago wanted to tear the hall to pieces, suddenly went still, curling into a ball. It was the only peace in a world that had just collapsed.
"You aren't going anywhere," I growled against her skin. "Do you hear me? Nowhere."
"Are you afraid of me?" she pulled back an inch, looking into my eyes. "Now, after his words... am I just a key to you too?"
I looked at her pale lips, at the smudge of soot on her cheek. My fingers tightened on her shoulders, likely leaving bruises.
"To me, you are my greatest mistake, Alina. And I won't let anyone else make it."
"Cale!" Edric's voice cut through the silence. "We need to decide. The pack is waiting. Damian will lead the Silverclaws now; he knows all our weaknesses. If we don't move now..."
I rose slowly, not letting go of Alina's hand. She stood beside me, pressed against my side, and I felt her tremors transferring to me.
"Assemble the council," I barked without looking back. "Reinforce the posts. Anyone seen associating with Damian—to the dungeon."
"And the girl?" Gallar stepped closer, his gaze greedy and calculating. He looked at Alina not as a person, but as a rare artifact. "If her blood truly is..."
I intercepted his gaze. My eyes, I knew, were glowing with a feral yellow light.
"If you look at her like that one more time, Gallar, I will rip your eyes out and force you to eat them. She is mine. That is all you need to know about her blood."
I pulled her after me toward the exit. The hall parted before us, warriors bowing their heads, but I could feel their whispers, their doubts, their fear against my skin.
The world had changed. A friend had become an enemy, a slave had become a treasure, and the war... the war was no longer just about defending borders.
It had become personal.
When we stepped into the cold corridor, Alina stumbled.
"You don't believe him, do you?" she stopped, forcing me to halt as well. "Cale, I'm just... I'm nobody. I don't have any power."
I looked at her. In the moonlight filtering through a narrow window, she seemed almost transparent. Damian never lied for amusement. Every word of his was a calculated strike. If he said "key," it meant a hunt was coming, the likes of which these lands had never seen.
"I don't care who you are," I pulled her close, pressing her against my armor almost to the point of pain. "You are my mistake. My weakness. And I will burn this land to the ground before I let anyone take the right to that mistake away from me."
I breathed in her scent again. Herbs and fear. My only anchor in the encroaching madness.
"Come. Tomorrow the slaughter begins. And you'd better stay as close to my fang as possible."
She said nothing. She only gripped my forearms tighter, and in that grip, there was more desperation than in any betrayal. We walked through the dark corridors of the castle, and the shadows seemed to reach for us, whispering the name Damian had shouted to the entire hall.
The war for blood had begun. And I was the one standing at its very center, clutching the thing that could destroy us all.