Chapter Eight
DIERK
We entered the heart of the Hold when the sun was at its peak. I knew the grounds. I wandered through the kingdom my entire life, but I had stayed in here long enough to know them. Today, for the first time, I noticed things.
The scent lines at the gate were faint and tangled. No patrol had renewed them in moons.
No one stopped us, because no guard waited at the checkpoint.
A pair of young wolves scuffled in the corner of the square. Not training, just fighting.
Some of the market fires had gone cold, the ashes gray and undisturbed.
My wolf bristled as I took in the Hold’s bones: which gates would keep, which walls would fall first. Gerhard kept his soldiers ready, but even with his discipline, this city would crumble within hours of an attack.
Hunger ruled here. So did fear. And that made it an easy pick for any of the other Kingdoms. The Alpha took pride in his army, too arrogant to see it the kingdom was a starving beast gnawing at its own bones.
Too spoiled by power to see the rot spreading fast under his paws.
A mother pulled her child aside when we passed. Her eyes remained down, but the child’s met mine. Scared and defiant. My wolf stirred, and I stifled a sound so low it was almost a purr. I understood those eyes.
As expected, Gerhard was in his office in the barracks. He sat behind his desk, quill scratching against parchment, the scent of ink thick in the warm air. Matthis was in a corner, swinging on the chair’s back feet as he carved a little piece of wood.
They both raised their heads when we walked in. “Good morning,” Gerhard greeted us. Then stopped.
Looked at Matthis, then back at us. Both sniffed the air. Once, twice.
Then Matthis nodded with a grin. “Called it. You owe me ten coins,” he said to the commander. “Pay up, Ironfang.”
But he walked close to Gerhard, and both looked at us, Elske and then me, and they inclined their heads. Acknowledging and showing respect for the bond. Not disgust, pity, or shame because she bonded with someone like me. They gave us, me, respect.
It felt good.
The way she took my hand and squeezed felt even better.
I kept her hand in mine as I said the formal words that would start the challenge.
“I’m Dierk. Son of no one. Belonging to nowhere. By flame and fang, I call the Alpha to the circle. Let blood decide our fates.”
Gerhard nodded, grave. “I’ll order the banner to be burned.”
And not fifteen minutes later, my Princess and I watched from a shadowed corner as villagers gathered, whispers spreading like sparks, as the House of Fireborn’s banner on the front gate burned, declaring Vargan’s reign under dispute.
“You’ll challenge him tonight, and fight him under the next full moon,” Elske told me, stepping closer, watching as her family crest was engulfed by flames.
I wrapped my arm around her shoulder, pulling her into my side. “I wish it could be over tonight.”
“It’s part of the challenge. It takes strength to wait. It makes lesser wolves shy away, crushed under the pressure.”
“It won’t crush me.”
“I know,” she said. “I know.”
And the surety of those words settled where nothing used to live.
ELSKE
I’D NEVER PARTICIPATE in a Moon Council.
It should have been a time when the council and the Alpha came together to judge the harshest disputes, honor warriors, and plan for the month ahead.
A mix of ceremony and politics meant to preserve the pack’s unity and keep the Alpha accountable before we gave ourselves to the moon.
But under my family’s rule, my father and his father before him, it had turned into a drunken orgy of power, where debts were traded in flesh or coin and disputes were solved in blood for the council’s entertainment.
I only ever knew bits and pieces of it, and even that was enough to make me shiver.
It seemed that Dierk’s call to the circle gave that a new spin.
The throne chamber, where the Moon Council met, was silent.
The council members sat at the table to the side: the Master of Coin and the three members of the Claws of Justice–all in my father’s pockets.
Feuermeister Adelmar, who never attended these meetings.
The war chief–an empty title for my brother, Skarr.
And on the throne, alone, the Alpha of the Dornwulf pack: Vargan of House Fireborn.
His hair had lost some of the red of his youth.
His face carried more lines than scars, but his power still resonated in the air.
He was tall. Strong. Trained to always be at his best. His cruel dark green eyes, so much like mine, scanned Dierk head to toe, deliberate and slow, while he brushed an invisible speck from his silky coat.
“Ironfang, bring him forward,” he ordered, boredom in his voice.
I wished I could walk to him and slap his face. Instead, I watched as Dierk followed Gerhard to the front of the throne.
Gerhard bowed. “Alpha.”
Dierk stood straight, eyes fixed on my father. I felt the strain of control in him, the hunger to finish this then and there. For the longest heartbeat, I feared he was going to do exactly that. But he yanked it back into place, and I exhaled.
“Name,” my father ordered.
“Dierk.”
“Son of?”
“None.”
“Pack?”
“None.”
My father curled his lip. “And you want to challenge me?”
Dierk didn’t take the bait, thank the gods.
He kept it formal, saying only the words needed to start the challenge.
“Your reign ends where my fire begins. By fang and flame, I call you to the circle.” He brought his wrist to his mouth and bit into his flesh until a single line of blood dribbled on the floor.
The room seemed to pause under the weight of his words.
Even I, someone used to his strength, held my breath. Not because of what he’d said. But because his voice resonated with something my father and his corrupted court were not used to hearing: command.
The voice of a male strong enough to lead. Of a wolf strong enough to protect.
The smirk drained from my father’s face.
He straightened, eyes calculating as he looked at my mate.
He did not like what he saw. But he could not lose face, so he schooled his expression and shrugged.
“Very well. Dierk.” He glanced at the room.
“Is there anyone here who stands with the challenger?” He didn’t try to hide the threat in his voice.
Which only made it sweeter when I stepped out from the shadows and took Dierk’s side. “I, Elske of House Fireborn, stand with him.”
Fury crossed my father’s face; my brother only sneered. My father sniffed the air. “You’re his mate?”
“I am.”
A ripple of stunned murmurs passed through the court, then whispers quickly snapped into silence.
My brother sneered and sat on the edge of his chair. “Always knew you were a fucking useless bitch.”
I was used to his insults; I didn’t even blink. But Dierk snarled, vicious and wild. It was terrifying enough that my brother slid back in his chair, and my father’s knuckles whitened on the throne. “Anyone else?” he called.
Adelmar rose. “I, Feuermeister Adelmar of House Emberlicht, stand with him.” This time, no one even breathed.
My father rose to his feet. “So be it. The circle is called. At the next full moon, blood will decide.”
WE LEFT THE THRONE room and the keep after the council dispersed, dismissed by a furious Alpha whose roar still echoed in the stone halls. Outside, the streets were alive. Word had spread fast, and everyone wanted to see who'd been brave, or foolish, enough to challenge my father.
I was used to the eyes that followed me everywhere, from furtive glances to bold stares, but Dierk wasn’t.
I felt the tension in him like a wire drawn too tight and ready to snap.
His scent carried the edge of violence, fire racing just beneath his skin.
He marched on like a wildfire contained, searching the crowd, sniffing the air, ready for whatever would come at us.
“There’s no danger here. Not yet,” I murmured, slipping my hand into his. The gesture caught the crowd’s attention like a spark in dry grass.
“There’s always danger,” he said low, his voice a growl meant only for me. “Now more than ever.”
“They only want to see you,” I whispered back. “You’re hope, Dierk.”
He looked at me then, and though his guard didn’t fall, the menacing sound coming from his chest eased.
When we finally reached the edge of the hold, we shifted and ran into the trees. The forest closed around us like a red and yellow embrace, the scent of pine and chill wrapped around us in welcome.
Adelmar had stayed in his tower, waiting for the challenge.
We’d begged him to come with us, but he’d stubbornly refused.
“The Alpha won’t strike while I’m surrounded by witnesses,” he’d said.
“Too many would ask questions if the Feuermeister suddenly dropped dead. And we need all the eyes we can get in that den of wolves.”
And so, the waiting began.
Because there was no world in which my father wouldn’t try to destroy us both before the challenge.
Dierk trained every day–fire with me, combat alone.
Matthis couldn’t reach us safely. The city hummed with gossip and fear, which he would play to the maximum effect.
He was busy slipping through back alleys, spreading whispers that the male who’d challenged the Alpha had not given up.
That he was strong enough to fight back.
That he was ready. He’d smuggled in some of the villagers we’d saved from the pit to validate his words.
Gerhard was testing his troops, quietly feeling out which of his males would stand with us when the moment came. He couldn’t ask openly, but loyalty has its scent, and many of his wolves would follow their commander Ironfang before they’d ever bow to the Alpha again.
And with a target painted bright across our backs, with death waiting in the shadows of every hour, it was the happiest I’d been in years. Ever.