THE COUNCIL’S ENVOY
THE COUNCIL’S ENVOY
Freya
When there are twenty-two days left until the Blood Moon Conclave, a raven flutters through the high windows of the dining hall and lands squarely on the long table. Its wings scatter crumbs into goblets, startling the servants.
The birdmaster hurries forward, unties the scroll, and passes it over to Kade who tenses as he reads it, “From the High Council. They are sending an envoy to Silvercrest.”
The hall stills.
Kade’s jaw flexes once, then again. I know that look.
He’s always ruled within the reach of his own borders—conquering smaller packs over the last three years at a startling pace, yet never meddling in High Council politics, never giving them cause to meddle with him.
But now, with the Blood Moon Conclave looming, the Council’s eyes are finally on us.
First the Conclave. Now an envoy. What is going on?
Nyx stirs in my chest grimly, ‘Be prepared.’
When I finally look at Izel, I find her smirking.
◆◆◆
The envoy arrives by midday. He’s a gaunt man in a long gray coat, sleeves trailing over his hands. His hair is bound with silver thread which glistens as he bows stiffly before the throne.
“I am sent,” he announces, gaze locked on Kade who sits on the throne, “to conduct an inspection. The High Council requires a full account of the Luna’s health, competence, and devotion to her pack.”
So, it is about me.
To my surprise, Kade’s irritation flares openly. “The Luna’s inspection? Inspections are only ordered if they believe a Luna cannot perform her duty. What drove them to such suspicion?”
The envoy buries his hands inside his sleeves. “The High Council received a complaint… anonymously—but it can’t be ignored. I’m required to formulate a report and present it to them.”
Izel steps forward before anyone else can speak. Her smile is sweet as cream. “Of course. The Council’s word is law, and Alpha Kade will be honored to let you examine anything you desire, to take what you deem necessary.”
The envoy tilts his head, gaze pinning her. “And with what authority do you speak for the Alpha?”
A flicker crosses Izel’s face, but she keeps her chin high. “I am Izel, the lady of this house.”
“Mm.” The envoy’s tone cools. “Yet my records show the Alpha’s wife, and thus Luna of Silvercrest, is Freya Vale.”
Murmurs ripple across the room.
Kade’s annoyance sharpens. “Freya,” he says curtly, beckoning. “Come forth.”
I rise, my sapphire crown gleaming as I walk through the parted crowd.
Kade’s gaze slices to the diadem, but his voice remains smooth. “Please the envoy, Luna.”
“I will prove I am both capable and worthy,” I say, lifting my chin as my heart pounds. “How the envoy—or the High Council—receives it is for them to decide.”
The envoy’s lips curve into a smirk. “Shall we begin, Luna Freya?”
I nod once.
As I move to follow him from the hall, Kade leaves his throne and grips my arm, his hand biting hard into my skin. He bends close, lowering his voice so only I can hear. “Don’t embarrass me, Freya.”
The pain makes my teeth clench, but I lift my chin and let no one see. “As you wish, Alpha.”
◆◆◆
We begin in the pack’s conservatory. Brin pauses his work when we walk inside, shuffling to one side but he keeps his eyes and attention on us. Jax stands behind Kade and Izel, hands clasped behind his back.
The envoy studies the conservatory before his brow arches and he points at a row of jars on the shelf. “Do you know their uses?”
“Yes,” I say evenly. “Moonwort for burns. Feverfew for headaches. Silverdew—poison if taken too long.”
He nods slowly. “And what are the signs of silverdew poisoning?”
From the corner of my eyes I see Kade shift on his feet. Izel’s hand reaches out to soothe him, but he shrugs her away.
I keep my voice clear as I answer. “Shortness of breath and pain in chest. Loss of feeling in the body and sight. Weakening of the mind’s connection with the pack and loss of authority if the person being poisoned is an Alpha or Luna. And most important of all: your wolf goes quiet.”
“Seems like you understand this particular herb very well,” the man remarks. I don’t miss the undertone there but I ignore it.
Izel laughs softly, interrupting us. “Confidence is easy when one recites what others have taught. True mastery requires practice. The Luna has not tended these gardens in years.”
I meet the envoy’s eyes. “Nor has Lady Izel, though she’s quick to claim them.”
Kade’s gaze flicks between us. I have no idea what he is thinking, and honestly? I don’t care.
Next is the training yard. Warriors line up, waiting. The envoy’s voice carries over to me, “If a Luna must protect her young, can she hold a weapon?”
Izel smirks, certain I’ll falter.
I step forward, taking a wooden staff from the rack. Tamsin, watching from the side, folds her arms, giving me the faintest nod of approval.
The envoy gestures. “Strike.”
I plant my feet and swing hard. The thud echoes as the staff slams into the practice post. My arms shake with the impact, but I steady them.
The envoy hums, unimpressed. “Not without skill.” Then, with a flick of his wrist, he summons one of the waiting warriors, staff in hand.
Izel’s lips curve thin with scorn. “Parlor tricks. She cannot—”
“She can,” Kade cuts her off. The shock throws me off balance for a fraction of a second—long enough that the warrior strikes, his staff cracking against my arm and knocking me hard to the ground.
Pain flares. I grunt, fury curling in my chest—not just at the blow, but at myself for faltering. The envoy’s face remains unreadable as he watches me drag myself back to my feet.
The warrior tilts his head, uncertain. “Yield?”
My lips pull into a smile that doesn’t reach my eyes.
I lunge. The move is faster than he expects.
My staff slams against his, driving him back a step, then another.
He adjusts, but I press harder, fury hardening every strike.
Nyx’s power flows through me, warming my shoulders, my elbows, my hands.
He’s stronger, but I can see it in his eyes: he’s holding back.
He thinks I’m fragile.
Snarling, I swing again, pushing until the clash of wood rattles the yard. My arms throb, my breath comes ragged, but I won’t yield.
“Enough.” The envoy’s voice cuts through the air. He raises one long hand. “The test is concluded.”
The warrior lowers his staff at once. I stand heaving, sweat stinging my eyes, the taste of iron in my mouth. I know I proved myself—but rage still coils inside me. Because I could have done more. Because he never truly fought me.
◆◆◆
At sunset, the envoy demands we sit in the Small Council chamber. A mock court, he calls it. It is not just Jax, Kade and Izel now. There are other members of the council of Silvercrest that watch over this test.
He clears his throat. “It’s mentioned in the anonymous complaint that the Luna has neglected her duties: absent from rituals, derelict in keeping order among the pack’s women. Some even whisper of… fraternizing with rogues.”
Gasps ripple across the chamber. Even Kade, who has sat silent and rigid until now, leans forward on his elbows, his eyes narrowing.
I fold my hands on the table, heart racing. This is the real test. Rowan’s face flashes in my mind. He might be the Rogue King of Nightfell, but he’s my friend. I meet him and seek his help but I know the purpose. It is not because I’m betraying my pack.
“May I respond?” I ask.
The envoy inclines his head.
“By law,” I begin, voice level, “a Luna is bound to attend rituals unless incapacitated by illness or Alpha command. Six winters ago, I bore my son, Finn, and nearly bled to death. Afterward, Alpha Kade himself commanded I rest. Witnesses may confirm this.”
What I can’t tell you is that without my wolf I couldn’t possibly participate in any of the rituals.
Izel hisses.
“As for order among the women,” I press on, “name one complaint ever brought formally. None exists. As for fraternizing? I have never consorted with rogues. Not as Luna of Silvercrest…” I allow the words to settle before continuing, “Besides, our history shows packs have dealt with rogues whenever it benefitted them. Border treaties, hunting accords, even mercenary contracts. The High Council itself has never set down a law forbidding such dealings outright.”
The envoy’s brows draw together.
I tilt my chin higher. “If rogues cross unlawfully, it is the guard’s failing. Not the Luna’s.”
The envoy shuffles his notes. “You are well-versed.”
“I was raised to it,” I answer. “Silvercrest’s Luna is not ornamental.”
I turn my head to glance over the members sitting in their chairs. Kade’s eyes narrow when they meet mine. Izel’s face has paled.
◆◆◆
When it’s time to leave, the envoy stands in the court hall, scroll half-rolled. “The inspection is concluded.”
Izel steps forward. “And your report will state?”
“That the Luna of Silvercrest is… adequate.” His voice is dry. “More than adequate.”
Her lips part, fury flashing before she hides it.
Kade dismisses the court. Wolves disperse in murmurs. Only when the crowd thins does the envoy draw close to me, voice pitched for my ears alone.
“Freya.” His eyes dart left, then right, his dark eyes flashing a deep green I recognise in a heartbeat. “We may not be able to meet each other for a while.”
I stiffen. “Rowan?”
He lowers his voice. “The High Council knows about the mark you bear. And they are not happy about it. Nightfell rises stronger than they like. Their plan is to crush us—by any means. But they intend to use Silvercrest… at the Blood Moon Conclave.”
My heart lurches.
With a slow blink, the green of his eyes vanishes, returning to its original dark brown. He blinks again, and steps back, his face contorted with confusion. “Did I say something to you?” the words slip out from his mouth in a whisper.
What the hell just happened?
The envoy swallows, and forces his eyes back to Kade who’s no longer watching us or listening. “My thanks for your hospitality. The High Council will be satisfied.”
Without another glance at me, he turns and walks away, boots echoing down the stone pathway.
If I’m not wrong, I just saw Rowan take possession of the envoy’s mind and body to—to speak to me. My body shivers. I claw at my neck, and find that I’m sweating.
The High Council doesn’t like that I bear the High Luna’s sigil. They want Nightfell destroyed. And if I’m not careful, I’ll burn with it.