I had no choice but to return to the small, warded hideout my grandmother Mara had left to my mother.
I had only a few silver pieces remaining in my pouch. Forget next season's training fees at the Academy—I could barely guarantee my next meal.
I sat in the den that had been cleaned until not a speck of dust remained, a bitter ache swelling in my chest.
Uncle Fenris and my mother had been born together under the same moon—twins blessed by the goddess. When I was barely two winters old, a territory ambush claimed both my parents in a single bloody night.
The bond between the siblings had always run deep. Uncle Fenris could never bring himself to abandon this small hideout-den. He came often to tend it himself, running his claws gently over the worn furniture, breathing in the fading traces of her scent. He told me once that her shadow still lingered here, caught in the walls like moonlight trapped in amber.
For my sake, Uncle Fenris never took a mate. He raised me as both father and mother, his massive presence a constant shield against a world that had already taken so much from me.
He had loved me so fiercely. Why would he leave everything to a stranger?
I refused to accept it. Again and again, I watched the Moon-witness recording of the blood-oath will, certain something was wrong. Something missing.
My hand froze. My pupils contracted sharply.
I knew what it was. The recording lacked Elder Eamon—the witness who should have been present.
Elder Eamon was the most respected member of my mother's bloodline, a wolf whose word carried the weight of ancient law. Uncle Fenris had been clear: only with Elder Eamon present to witness the oath would the succession be valid.
I scrambled to find the recording of Uncle Fenris's first blood-oath will—the one that named me as heir. Elder Eamon stood right there in the image, his silver-streaked fur unmistakable.
Excitement surged through me. I leaped to my feet, already burning to expose Alaric Ravenhart for what he truly was.
I raced back to the estate and forced my way through the outer wards. I had barely crossed the threshold when Garrick Frostmane, the old den-steward, stepped into my path.
"Young master, this territory no longer belongs to you. If you continue to cause disruption, I will summon the pack enforcers."