Chapter 3
Three years ago, my mother, Elowen Silvermane, was the only one who rushed out to stop Aiden. Alaric Hawthorne's men knocked her out cold.
When she finally woke up, she ventured alone to the Black Forest's edge, braving the blizzard for three days and nights in search of me. But she never found me.
I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and then turned to look at Samuel.
He stood by the door, not urging, not persuading. Just standing there.
I walked over and took his hand.
"I'll go with you. No matter what happens, I'll be right here," he said.
"Okay," I replied.
We set out for the Citadel, walking for three days and nights.
On the first night, we set up camp. Samuel got a fire going.
I sat by the fire and pulled off my boots. My feet were covered in blisters from the long walk.
He stayed quiet. After a while, he passed me a piece of cloth.
It wasn't just any handkerchief. He'd torn it from the lining of his own clothes, soaked it in herb water, and it felt cool against my skin.
"How did you know I had blisters on my feet?" I asked.
"You started walking differently. You were putting more weight on your left foot than your right," Samuel replied.
I stayed quiet, and so did he.
On the second evening, we walked along the edge of a cliff, the wind whipping around us.
Samuel instinctively stepped a bit closer to me, keeping his eyes fixed on the ground and refusing to look down.
I barely noticed it at the time. It wasn't until later that I learned the mighty Blackstone Pack Alpha was terrified of heights.
The second night was even colder. I huddled by the fire, wrapped in my cloak, my teeth chattering.
Samuel took off his cloak and draped it over my shoulders, then sat a bit farther away.
I looked at him. "Aren't you cold?"
"I'm from the Blackstone Pack. I've survived places ten times colder than this," he replied.
"Then why are you sitting so far away?" I asked.
He paused for a moment. "My cloak smells like me. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable if I sat too close."
I didn't say anything and scooted a little closer to him. He didn't react. I shifted closer again, but he still didn't move.
Finally, I ended up right beside him, our shoulders touching. His breath hitched for a second.
Then his hand reached out, so carefully, not grabbing mine, but gently cupping my fingers in his palm.
Like he was cradling something fragile, afraid it might shatter.
I didn't move my hand away.
That night, I drifted off with my head resting on his shoulder.
When I woke up the next morning, his cloak was still over my shoulders, and he was already up, heating jerky over the fire.
He handed me the jerky. I took it and bit into it.
"It's too salty," I muttered.
"Yeah. I'll go lighter on the salt next time," he said.
He said "next time," so naturally, like, of course, there'd be a next time.
I didn't say anything, but I finished the jerky anyway.
On the fourth morning, the Citadel finally appeared on the horizon.
At the city gates stood a man with silver hair and striking green eyes, his face calm and composed. It was Alaric.
He smiled, looking kind and harmless. But then, his right index finger bent slightly.
It was such a small gesture. Three years ago, during the Awakening Ceremony, when he declared me a "wolfless outcast," his finger had bent in the same way.
"Welcome back, wolfless princess." From his sleeve, a silver blade tempered with dark blood slid into view.
"But you and your Alpha will meet your end here today," he added.
I recoiled as the silver blade grazed my cheek, slicing off a strand of my hair.
Samuel stepped in front of me, his black wolf claws unsheathing from his fingertips.
"Alaric, you're asking for death," Samuel snarled.
Alaric gave a slow, knowing smile as the city gates creaked shut behind him.
Countless archers peered over the city walls, their arrowheads trained on us.
"Your Majesty Samuel, this is the Silvermoon Citadel, not your Blackstone," he said lazily. "No one is getting out of here today."
Suddenly, Aiden stood up and stepped between us. "Alaric, you can't do this. They came to save my mother."
"Save her?" Alaric scoffed. "I'm the one who unleashed the wolf plague. If I decide someone dies, they die."
With a cold gesture, he waved his hand. A storm of arrows rained down on us.
Samuel quickly pulled Aiden and me behind the carriage, then shifted into a massive black wolf, blocking the attack in front of us.
The arrows bounced off his thick fur with a metallic clang.
"Aria. Head for the side entrance," he roared. "Go find Elowen in her quarters. I'll keep them busy here."
I gritted my teeth, grabbed Aiden's hand, and bolted for the side entrance.
Behind us, wolf howls and agonized screams echoed through the air. I didn't dare look back.
We rushed through the narrow side alley and finally stormed into the palace.
We sprinted all the way to her quarters, and the second I pushed open the door, a chill shot through my veins.
There Elowen was, lying on the bed.
She was nothing but skin and bones, her face gray and lips a sickly purple. Around her wrist was a faint violet ring that marked where wolfsbane had eaten into her veins.
I grabbed her hand. It was ice cold.
"Mom, I'm back," I whispered.