Chapter Seventeen — Between Fire and Frost
1254 Words
Selene’s POV
The castle felt quieter without Kael in it, but not safer.
The silence was only a pause before the storm—a false peace Malrik always cultivated before he bared his teeth. Servants walked lighter, spoke softer, and no one met my eyes for long. Fear was a scent, and it clung to everything.
I sat near the window, a half-finished letter before me. My hand hovered over the parchment, the ink cooling on the tip of the quill. I had written the same sentence three times already and torn it each time.
He’s not coming back the same.
That was what my heart kept whispering.
Eryndor entered quietly, robes whispering against the stone. He didn’t speak right away; he simply studied me, his eyes sharp but not unkind.
“You haven’t eaten,” he said.
“I wasn’t hungry.”
“Lies don’t suit you.”
“Then I’ll practice.”
He sighed softly. “You can’t think clearly on an empty stomach, Selena.”
I looked up. “And what makes you think I’m trying to think clearly?”
He smiled faintly, setting down a tray of food I knew I wouldn’t touch. “You’re planning. It’s what you do when you can’t stop worrying.”
I said nothing.
He moved closer, lowering his voice. “Malrik has begun moving his pieces. He’s met privately with three of the elders—ones who owe Veyra favors. The gossip says he’s preparing an announcement.”
I frowned. “An announcement?”
“Perhaps a new heir. Or a new Luna.”
My stomach tightened. “He wouldn’t—”
“He would,” Eryndor said calmly. “If he believes Kael won’t return, he’ll try to reclaim control through Veyra. She’s been playing her part well—meek smiles, lowered eyes, a perfect widow before the burial.”
“She’s not ready for what’s coming,” I murmured.
Eryndor tilted his head. “Then tell me, Selena—what is coming?”
“The fall,” I said. “And this time, she won’t take me down with her.”
I rose, crossing to the table where I had gathered the small tokens of my plan: a silver ring Veyra had given me during our last “friendly” visit, a vial of her perfume, and a folded scrap of parchment marked with her handwriting.
“She thinks she’s clever,” I said softly. “But she leaves traces. The hand that poisons is always the one that forgets to wipe the cup.”
Eryndor’s lips curved. “You intend to set the stage?”
“I intend to let her hang herself.”
“And Malrik?”
“I’ll let him watch.”
The witch chuckled under his breath, the sound low and knowing. “You grow more dangerous each day.”
I turned toward him. “Danger is the only language this house understands.”
Outside, snow began to fall, soft and slow, dusting the courtyard like ashes.
Somewhere beyond that frost, Kael rode north into the wild.
And I wondered if he could still feel the pull between us—the thread that had never loosened, even when we stood on opposite sides of the same war.
---
Kael’s POV
The northern wind cut like blades.
Snow gathered in the creases of my armor, the air sharp enough to bite through leather and steel alike. My horse’s breath came out in pale bursts, each one vanishing before it reached the next.
We had been riding for two days, heading toward the borderlands where the Ravaryn Pack’s power ended and the wild clans began.
Jarek rode beside me, his usual grin replaced with grim silence.
“You haven’t said much,” he said at last.
“I don’t waste breath on frost.”
He snorted. “You used to waste it on philosophy. What’s different now?”
“Too much depends on silence,” I said.
He gave me a sidelong look. “Meaning?”
“Meaning my father’s spies ride faster than we do.”
That shut him up.
We rode another mile in silence before I spoke again. “He doesn’t intend for me to return.”
“I know,” Jarek said quietly. “But you will.”
I looked ahead at the horizon—flat, endless, and white. “If I don’t, the pack won’t survive him.”
He hesitated. “You think the Luna will?”
The question hit harder than I expected.
“She’s not his Luna,” I said finally.
Jarek gave a low whistle. “You’re not even trying to hide it anymore.”
“Hide what?”
“The fact that you’d burn half the fortress to keep her alive.”
I didn’t answer. Because he was right. And because I already had.
---
We reached the forest by nightfall. The trees were skeletal, their branches clawing at the sky. A pale moon hung low, bleeding through the mist.
“Camp here,” I ordered. “We move at dawn.”
As the men dismounted and began to build fires, I moved away from the noise, walking to the edge of the clearing.
The bond pulsed faintly again—soft, warm, like a heartbeat pressed against my own. I closed my eyes, feeling it thread through the cold, stretching across miles of snow and stone until it reached her.
For a moment, I could almost see her—standing by the window, watching the storm, her expression calm but her thoughts burning.
“Stay alive,” I whispered into the wind. “Until I come back.”
The wind carried my breath away, but something in the air changed—an answering warmth, fleeting but real.
She’d heard.
---
Selene’s POV
That night, sleep came shallow and strange. The air smelled faintly of smoke and snow, and my dreams were full of silver light and shifting faces.
When I woke, the candle beside my bed had burned low. Eryndor’s crystal glowed faintly on the table, its threads swirling like mist.
I reached out, brushing my fingers against the glass. It thrummed faintly beneath my touch.
“Can you see him?” I whispered.
Eryndor’s voice came from the doorway, calm but faintly curious. “Can you?”
I turned, startled. He stepped closer, the candlelight catching the edges of his face.
“I felt something,” I admitted. “A pull.”
“The bond,” he said simply. “Distance doesn’t weaken it. If anything, it sharpens the ache.”
“Then it’s cruel.”
“All gifts are,” he murmured.
I looked back at the crystal, the faint glow pulsing like a heartbeat.
“He’s walking into danger,” I said quietly. “I can feel it.”
“You can’t stop it,” Eryndor said. “But you can prepare for what comes next. The old Alpha grows restless. He senses you moving in his shadow.”
“Then let him look,” I said. “I want him to see what’s coming.”
Eryndor studied me for a long moment. “And what exactly is coming, Selena?”
I lifted my gaze to meet his. “The end of this house as it’s always been.”
The crystal pulsed once more, light flaring briefly across the room—then dimmed to a steady, waiting glow.
Outside, the snow fell harder.
And somewhere deep in the north, the same wind carried the sound of wolves.
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