Chapter Five
Calista
A high priestess, by the look of her, with a veil edged in ice-bright thread and a circlet of hammered iron set with a shard of smoky quartz approached. Older than me by decades and thin as a spear, she moved like a winter bird.
“By Conclave writ and Frostcrag custom,” she announced, “the alliance between Frostcrag and Hollowcrest Isle begins. The moon bride is offered as a symbol of unity among the Wolvryn Courts, and the king accepts.”
Dorian bowed. “Hollowcrest witnesses.”
The priestess’s gaze cut to me. “Step forward, Calista Vale.”
I forced my feet to obey, though the wolf mask at my side filled my senses like a storm I refused to turn my back on.
“The official betrothal.” She produced a narrow binding cord, plain iron threads braided with wolf-hair and a line of pale linen.
Holding up the three items, she continued, “Iron threads are practical and unyielding, symbolizing restraint and law. Wolf hair for the Wolvryn soul made tangible, a primal claim. And finally, linen, the hearth of the home.”
Home. The word caught in my chest.
“Hands around left wrists,” the king murmured.
Dorian’s hand brushed my elbow in warning, though I scarcely needed it. I gave him the smallest nod.
This was not the moment for panic. This was the alliance Hollowcrest needed, the first step toward real protection, and I would not be the one to fumble it before it even began.
I extended my arm, and the king did the same.
Leather brushed my skin as his fingers curled around my wrist. His hand was warm, too warm for such a cold-looking male.
It was broad, steady, and far too large around mine.
The priestess wound the braid around us once, twice, then pricked our thumbs with a blackened bone needle.
“One drop.”
Pressing my thumb to the cord, I gave it my blood, and he gave his. The iron threads darkened where they met.
The priestess tied a flat knot, firm but not biting, then pressed the cord briefly to my palm and to his as though sealing it with our shared heat. My skin prickled at the touch, tiny pops racing over the cold of my flesh as if the goddess’s own elra had brushed the braid.
“Witness,” the priestess intoned, lifting the braid and our clasped hands for both courts to see. “Under moon and hoarfrost. Under law these two souls are bound until the marriage rites are complete.”
A murmur rippled through Frostcrag and Hollowcrest alike.
Then she removed the cord and slid it into a small iron tube, stamped it with a wolf-head seal over a mountain, and stepped back. “Bound.”
Silence stretched.
The king’s attention never left my face. Somewhere deep beneath all that controlled muscle, something stirred. I had never felt anything quite like it, and the strange awareness chased a chill up my spine.
“It’s done,” he announced. “Now, we return to Frostcrag Fortress.”
A pulse of panic tried to claw up my throat. Not because I doubted what I must do, but because doing it made everything real.
“Alpha King.” I fought to keep my voice even. “May I have a moment to say goodbye to my family?”
“Make it quick. We must return before the tides turn.”
I bit back my first answer and folded my irritation into something smaller, more careful. “Of course. I would not want to test that infamous patience of yours.”
Dorian made a sound halfway between a cough and a groan. The king’s head tilted just slightly, the silvered fangs of his mask catching the light. I couldn’t tell if it hid a smirk or a warning.
I turned away before I could decide which was better.
Suri stood in a quiet corner with my aunt, tears slipping steadily down her cheeks as though she couldn’t stop them. “Cali,” she whispered, reaching for me and then stopping herself, as if touching me would somehow make this all worse.
I pulled her in anyway, pressing my forehead to hers. “Listen to me,” I murmured. “You hold the house together. You keep Ma steady. And hidden. You cast the nets when the wind turns wrong, and you eat even when you’re scared because someone has to keep their feet under them. I know you can do it.”
Her breath hitched. “I can’t.”
“You can.” I cupped her jaw. “Strong, little fish. Show me your spine.”
Her teeth clenched. Her mouth wobbled, then steadied. “Strong,” she echoed. “I’ll take care of Ma. I’ll keep her hidden. I swear it.”
“I’ll send word as soon as I can.” I pressed a kiss to her forehead. “And if this alliance is worth anything, I’ll make sure aid reaches you first.”
That was the hard truth of it.
I doubted I would love Frostcrag or that anything about this role would be easy. But if I had to go, then I would squeeze every scrap of protection and advantage I could from it and send it back across the sea.
“You’ll write?” she whispered.
“About everything,” I promised. “Even what color the sky is.”
A broken laugh escaped her.
I kissed her cheek and stepped away before my own throat betrayed me. I would not cry in front of Frostcrag. I would not let them think Hollowcrest sent them a female who broke apart so easily.
A flicker of movement beyond Suri caught my eye. Jameson stood by the hedge, shoulders squared and jaw set tight.
“Careful…” Aunt Mara inched closer, voice too low for anyone else to hear.
Jameson didn’t try to push forward. He wouldn’t dare. He simply held my gaze the way a rope might be thrown from shore to a ship already drifting. I gave him the smallest smile, gratitude and a farewell folded into one. He touched two fingers to his heart, the old dockhand sign for safe crossings.
Before I had a chance to return it, leather creaked behind me.
“A friend of yours?” The king’s voice was close enough that the cold of it brushed the shell of my ear.
Heat licked up my neck, sharp and humiliating, but I kept my gaze on Jameson. “Yes.” I owed him nothing more.
The sound that answered was not a word. It was something lower. Meaner. A warning from a throat that knew how to tear.
My entire body stiffened.
Dorian hurried between us, hands spread in the old posture of diplomacy. “My king, our court thanks you for your forbearance. I’m told the boats have been restocked and wait ready at the cove.”
“Then we are finished here.” The king’s rough voice had leashed itself again, but I could feel the beast beneath it still pacing.
I squeezed Suri’s hand one last time, fierce and fast, then let go before grief could turn me foolish. I refused to give Frostcrag my tears on top of everything else.
“Tell Ma I’ll be late to supper.” I forced a teasing note into my voice. “I promise, I’ll be fine.”
The effort coaxed a broken little laugh from Suri. I touched Mara’s shoulder as I passed. Her dark eyes held everything she did not dare say aloud. Then I turned toward the road.
The king moved first and the Frostcrag column flowed after him, cutting a path through Hollowcrest like a river through ice. I fell into line half a step behind Dorian and offset from the king, close enough to feel the heat rising from him but far enough not to brush it.
We moved through our gathered court in a blur of gray cloaks, iron rings, bowed heads, and hungry stares. I kept my gaze forward, counting breaths. Counting steps. Counting all the things I could still control.
At the cliff path, the wind rose to meet us, whipping strands of blonde hair across my face. Below, I could just make out the boats waiting, ready at the waterline.
The king paused at the lip of the path and glanced back. “Hollowcrest,” he called out, voice carrying over the wind and surf, “you have my word that the bride will be treated as befits her station of queen consort.”
A murmur ran through my court.
Dorian bowed his head. “We are forever in your debt, my king.”
“As I said before, you are in hers.”
His words struck something buried deep within my chest. As I looked down toward the waiting boats and the sea beyond them, I couldn’t deny the fierce, unfamiliar flicker rising beneath all my dread.
Hope.
Dangerous. Fragile. Easy to crush.
But hope all the same.
If the Savage King meant even half of what he had shown today, then perhaps this marriage would not simply swallow me whole. Maybe I could turn it into something useful and Hollowcrest might survive me leaving it.
I squared my shoulders and followed Frostcrag down the path toward the boats, toward the king I had not chosen.
I refused to look back. Because this alliance was my duty.
And I vowed to make the goddess regret underestimating what a wolfless female could do with a crown.