ZARIA'S POV
I unfolded the wrinkled parchment, my eyes tearing through my mother’s frantic, ink-smeared script. The letters were shaky, written with a hand that had clearly been trembling with pure terror.
“Zaria,” the note read, the words bleeding into each other where her tears had hit the page. “Cynthia discovered that Garrick is missing, and she has completely lost her mind. She went straight to your father. Alpha Rowan has locked me away in the lower cellars to keep me silent. Cynthia has seized total control of the entire Bloodmoon pack, and she is marching a massive rogue army from the wastes toward the neutral borders right now for a total slaughter. She wants you dead, Zaria. She wants the North in ashes. Please, you have to run. Do not let them find you.“
I stared at the paper for a long, silent beat. My mother wanted me to flee. She wanted me to run away into the shadows like a frightened animal, waiting in hiding while the wolves decided the fate of the world. She thought I was still the helpless girl who could do nothing but take the blows they dealt out.
A cold, heavy stillness settled over my bones. The lingering fear, the exhaustion, the stinging ache of Cassian’s betrayal—all of it evaporated in a single heartbeat, leaving behind a sharp, unyielding core of absolute flint. I didn't cry. My hands didn't shake. I rolled the blood-spattered parchment tightly into my fist, turned away from Maya and Helen without saying a single word, and walked straight out into the corridor.
My boots struck the stone floors with a heavy, rhythmic cadence that echoed through the quiet halls of the castle. I had planned on going to pack my clothes and leaving the pack this morning but there was a change of plans.
I walked straight toward the grand strategy hall where the leadership of the North gathered.
When I reached the massive double doors, the two towering Lycan sentries positioned outside took one look at my face and immediately stepped aside, pushing the heavy oak doors open without asking for a pass. They could see it in my eyes: the girl who had entered this palace a broken refugee was gone.
Inside, the room was thick with a tense, suffocating silence. Cassian sat at the head of a massive mahogany map table, surrounded by his top generals and war councilors. All of them were staring down at the territorial markers in grim concentration, arguing in low, stressed voices about border movements. The moment the heavy doors creaked open, every single head snapped up.
Cassian stood up instantly. The terrifying, unyielding Alpha King who had nearly leveled the palace with his sheer presence hours ago looked completely hollowed out when he looked at me. His golden eyes locked onto mine, wide with a raw, desperate plea, his lips parting slightly as he took a step forward around the table, clearly looking for a chance to explain the lies I had uncovered in the vault.
I didn't give him the chance. I didn't even acknowledge his guilt or look at his expression.
I marched straight to the center of the room, completely ignoring the stunned murmurs and shifting postures of the Lycan generals. With a sharp, cracking sound that cut through the arguments like thunder, I slammed my mother's bloody note flat onto the center of the map table, right across the lines marking the neutral border.
The generals went dead silent, their breath catching in their throats as I leaned over the table, my hands flat against the wood, looking directly across the map at the Lycan King. The sheer, deadpan authority in my voice cut through the room like a sudden winter frost.
"We will deal with what you did to me later, King Cassian," I said, my voice steady, freezing cold, and entirely devoid of any personal emotion. "Right now, my sister is bringing a war to our doorsteps. She has gone to my father, and Alpha Rowan has locked up my mother in the cellars. Cynthia has taken total control of the Bloodmoon pack and is marching a rogue army straight to the neutral border."
Cassian went completely rigid, his golden eyes scanning the frantic handwriting and the dark blood on the parchment before locking back onto mine with a sharp, lethal focus. The personal heartbreak between us instantly vanished, replaced by the reality of an impending slaughter.
I stood up straight, my chin lifted as I looked over the gathered Lycan commanders, speaking with a fierce, regal command that left absolutely no room for debate or hesitation.
"I am going to that border," I told them, my voice carrying to every corner of the grand hall. "And I am going to take her head myself. I will do it with your warriors standing beside me, or I will walk out of these gates and do it entirely alone. Decide right now."
A profound, breathless shock rippled through the entire war room. The seasoned generals stared at me as if seeing a complete stranger—no longer the human girl they had tolerated out of obligation to their king, but a leader who held the room by absolute force of will.
Cassian stared at me from across the table. A sudden, powerful wave of profound respect washed over his features, mixing with the deep guilt that still shadowed his eyes. He didn't look at his generals for approval, and he didn't hesitate for a single second.
With a harsh, scraping shriek of steel against leather, Cassian drew his massive, black-iron broadsword from its scabbard. He lifted the heavy blade high and slammed the point directly into the center of the wooden map table, right beside my mother's bloody note.
The heavy wood groaned under the immense force, the territorial markers rattling as the Lycan King dropped down onto one knee, bowing his dark head deeply to me in total submission before his entire council.
"My warriors are yours, Zaria," Cassian vowed, his deep, gravelly voice vibrating through the stone floor beneath our feet. "I will always fight beside you.“