I swallowed. “Nicero Blackfang called me.”

The sentinels circled.

“He doesn’t summon broken wolves,” the ash-gray female said. “He claims them.”

Her gaze dropped to my shoulder where the mate-mark scar still burned faintly beneath my cloak.

“So tell me, Silvermoon castaway,” she said. “What did you trade to cross our border alive?”

“My future,” I replied without hesitation.

The sentinels stilled.

After a long moment, she nodded once. “Follow.”

They did not escort me like a guest.

They herded me like a weapon.

---

Blackfang territory was nothing like Silvermoon.

Where my former pack had built spires of white stone and ritual gardens under permanent moonlight, Blackfang rose from volcanic rock and ancient forest, its citadel carved directly into the mountain’s heart. No crystal towers. No decorative shrines.

Only iron gates, obsidian walls, and magic thick enough to taste.

They led me through tunnels lit with ember-veins that pulsed faintly like a living beast beneath the stone. My wolf paced restlessly inside me, bristling at every territorial marker we passed.

This land did not welcome submission.

It demanded survival.

At the citadel’s core, the sentinels halted before a set of double doors forged from blackened steel and bone.

“Wait here,” the ash-gray female said.

I did not have the energy to argue.

Minutes stretched into an hour. The soul-vessel at my chest grew colder, Papa’s flame flickering erratically.

Panic clawed its way into my lungs.

I pressed both hands over the crystal. “I’m here,” I whispered. “Don’t leave me now.”

The doors opened.

Nicero Blackfang stood in the threshold, sleeves rolled up, dark hair tied back with a leather cord. His presence filled the corridor before he even spoke—predatory, unyielding, impossible to ignore.

“You’re late,” he said.

I lifted my chin. “I came as fast as I could.”

His gaze drifted to the soul-vessel, narrowing. “Your father is already slipping.”

My chest tightened. “You said—”

“I said I would help,” he interrupted. “Not that I would reverse decay. Bring him.”

He turned without waiting, striding back into the chamber beyond. I followed, legs numb, heart pounding so loudly I feared he could hear it.

The altar chamber was not beautiful.

It was terrifying.