Chapter Forty-Nine
Calista
My mind detonated into memories.
The Black Wolf’s voice in the storm. Everest’s breath at my ear. His warning, his teasing, his rough tenderness. The way he’d called me that same name like it belonged on his tongue.
The hut.
His fur cloak around my shoulders.
His hands on my ankle, careful and sure.
The bite at my skin, controlled, just short of drawing blood.
The way his eyes had flashed brilliant silver when his Wolvryn surged.
Silver. Like moonlight caught in ice. Like Savage’s eyes.
My chest constricted.
No. No, that was impossible.
Everest was the Black Wolf. Savage’s shadow. Frostcrag’s devoted guard. I’d seen them together, more than once, hadn’t I?
Hadn’t I?
And Savage was…
My thoughts scattered, frantic and disbelieving. I tried to grab hold of anything solid. Anything that didn’t shatter everything I thought I knew.
But the pieces lined up with brutal clarity. The way Everest moved like a male trained by a king who demanded perfection. The way he knew every law not as words, but as instinct. The way he spoke of the king as if he’d seen him bleed and breathe and make hard choices that no one else understood.
The way he had been able to shift before the full moon when only Alphas should. The way the enormous black Wolvryn with silver eyes had appeared at Trystan’s boat like death given fur.
The runes on his forehead. That must have been the mark Trystan had recognized. The mark of a king.
A swell of nausea rose hard and fast. I stared at the empty doors Savage had walked through and felt the world tilt beneath me.
Everest. Savage. One male.
One face behind two masks.
Goddess, I had been such a fool.
And suddenly I didn’t know which part hurt more. The betrayal of it or the fact that he had been with me through blood, storm and hunger, and somehow… he hadn’t just been guarding me. He had been learning me.
Watching me. Wanting me.
That last part hit harder than all the others.
And neither of us had understood why. Maybe because we weren’t supposed to. Maybe because kings weren’t allowed to want anything they couldn’t control.
My hands trembled on the throne arms, and my breath came shallow.
I had come here to claim a crown and speak Three Edicts that would change Hollowcrest’s fate. Instead, I had walked into a truth sharp enough to cut me open.
And the worst part was that even now, even with the revelation cracking through my bones, the pull I felt toward Ever—Savage didn’t fade. It only deepened.
Like my body had known the truth long before my mind caught up. Like the wolf in Selraya’s statue had been watching me all along, waiting for me to finally see what was standing beside me.
My vision blurred for a heartbeat, but I forced it to clear because I could break later. I could scream later.
Right now, I had to decide what to do with the most dangerous knowledge I’d ever held. That the male I had wanted in the dark was the king waiting for me in the light.
And he had called me his queen.
A horn blasted across Frostcrag, and the doors opened. That sound… it was the official end of the Hunt. The deep, mournful cry punched through the quiet.
I sat in the imposing chair, spine forced straight by pride and pain, hands curled around the arms of the seat like they could keep me from crumbling apart.
My ankle pulsed hot beneath the wrap, my body aching in places I didn’t know had names, but the worst ache was the incessant one behind my ribs.
Savage. Everest. It was one truth that kept rearranging itself in my mind like it refused to settle.
Then steel, boots, and the heavy cadence of power rushed the throne room as a single unit. I dared not turn my head.
The Conclave.
The Alphas marched before me, their presence turning air to pressure.
Fearsome Fae with the soul of a Wolvryn in fine leathers and furs each marked by their Court, each carrying the weight of lands and bloodlines and grudges older than my island’s oldest stones.
All of them looked at me like they were measuring a knife.
And Savage led them all. His mask was on, and the crown of frost and iron sat firmly upon his brow. He was every inch the king they feared.
I kept my face still, but my stomach turned. Savage, not Everest, had been at my side in the snow. He had carried me. He had… tasted me, Oh, moons, I couldn’t even think about that or how he’d wrapped his body around me in the dark like the world couldn’t take me while he held on.
Savage had kissed me and then told me I belonged to his king. His king.
Himself.
The realization burned again as sharp as the first time. A part of me wanted to stand, to throw the throne at him, and to demand answers until my throat went raw.
Why?
Why pretend?
Why risk everything?
Then another truth slid into place, quieter and even more terrifying. He broke his own precious laws for me. Savage, who was built by the very bones of the law he loved so much.
The king was forbidden to interfere in the Blood Hunt. I’d stood right beside him when the priestess had declared the rules of the rite.
He had anyway.
And if anyone here suspected it… Oh frost take me, what if the Conclave decided to claw at that thread and my claim unraveled? The Moon Crown could become nothing more than a scandal, and Hollowcrest would be left with only ashes and broken bargains all over again.
My thoughts spiraled so fast I nearly lost my breath.
And there was still one missing piece… the thing I couldn’t stop thinking about.
Frost. My little wolf. Savage had been in Hollowcrest a year ago, disguised as a common rogue.
I was nearly certain of it. He’d seen me, and he’d adopted my beloved pet.
Then days later, Savage had claimed me as his bride.
Had the goddess truly chosen me that day or it had it been the king all along?
And why?
The approaching Alphas tore my thoughts back to the present. The Wolvryn males filed toward the long table that stretched across the center of the hall, carved from dark wood and scarred with old blade marks. Chairs scraped against stone as they took their seats.
Dorian folded down beside the others, his lowly standing as a Hollowcrest placing him at the farthest end of the table. For the last time, if I had my say.
Several Alphas looked toward the doors, their expressions impatient and faintly amused. An empty chair waited. Thornwild. Trystan’s place.
My heart leapt up my throat once again. For a second, I’d forgotten all about him. No one spoke of the male, but his absence filled the hall. They must have assumed he was still out there, hunting. My pulse ticked too fast. They assumed he was still alive.
I swallowed hard.
Three figures in silver entered behind the Conclave, their robes whispering across the stone. Priestesses. Their faces were partially veiled, eyes sharp as cut glass. And between them walked Neris, high priestess of Selraya.
Her gaze landed on me and didn’t flinch. Not from my bloodstained cloak, not from the exhaustion hollowing my cheeks, or from the fact that my body looked like it had been dragged through the teeth of this frost-cursed realm.
A hint of a smile peeked through the veil. “Calista Vale of Hollowcrest.” Her voice carried across the hall like a bell. “You stand before Selraya’s law as the first daughter to reach Frostcrag’s throne.”
A ripple moved through the Alphas. It wasn’t a celebration or even approval, just a slow, relentless assessment. The powerless, pathetic Hollow had done what no one ever thought her capable of.
Neris’s voice quieted the murmurs. “By rite and witness, you have earned the Moon Crown. If you choose to claim it.”
The words struck deep. Along with the triumph, came a responsibility settling over my shoulders with a weight that made me want to vomit. If all went as it should, not only would I be responsible for the welfare of my own Hollowcrest Court but for all twelve now.
“You have earned the right to claim Three Edicts,” she continued. “Immutable, binding, and enforced by every Court beneath Selraya’s light.”
My throat tightened.
This was it. This was why I had bled. Why I had crawled. Why I had refused to die.
I rose as best I could, pain slicing up my leg, and forced myself to stand tall anyway.
Unbidden, my hand slipped into my pocket, fingers clenching the Frostcrag sigil.
To lead you home. I didn’t wobble as I glanced down at them all from the dais.
The Wolvryn who’d never given me a choice.
I refused to give them anything but strength today.
Every face watched me.
Savage stood at the head of the table, still as stone, mask hiding whatever he felt. But I could feel him watching. I could feel it in my skin in the same pull that had haunted me since the day we met.
My gaze lifted, eyes meeting his, and a tempest of emotions flared beneath the icy silver.
He didn’t move, didn’t so much as shift his stance. But something in the air between us tightened, like a bowstring pulled to breaking. Like the world itself had gone still to hear what I would say.
It had always come back to him.
My fingers loosened around the Frostcrag sigil.
“I accept the Moon Crown,” I finally announced, my voice rough with everything I had survived to reach this moment. “And I accept the betrothal to the Alpha King.”
Savage’s shoulders drew tighter. Barely. No one else would have seen it. But I did. As if something inside him had struck hard against bone.
And then he was still again, eyes boring into my own. Like he had been waiting for that answer longer than either of us understood.
Then I turned to Neris and dipped my head.
“My first Edict,” I called out, voice steady even as my body trembled, “is that Wolvryn born without the ability to shift are to be recognized as true members of their Court and blood. They will no longer be banished to Hollowcrest Isle.”