MasukKeon's POV:
“I’ll see what I can do Alpha but I can't heal witches in the way that's needed. I'll run a scan to see if she's bleeding internally or hurt anything, but that's all I can do. The most I can do is heal her bruises. That's all.” “Whatever, just get to it, Jet.” I say to the pack doctor. I keep glancing at Winter, but she hasn't moved at all since I found her. He nods, and I shut the door to my chambers, and the memory of her—us in the same room, only a while back makes my nose flare. She was going to be okay. She had to be. For now, there is only one thing that matters. Finding the perpetrator. The guards and house staff were already assembled in my office when I arrived, though their postures had stiffened as soon as my boots echoed across the stone floors. I didn’t even glance at them. My mind was entirely on Winter. She was still unconscious, pale, and fragile, but alive. My wolf rumbled low in my chest, vibrating through every bone, every nerve. No one dared move. No one breathed too loudly. They all knew. Something was wrong, and whoever was behind it would feel the Alpha's wrath. “Winter was hurt,” I said slowly, letting the words hang. My voice was calm, too calm. Too calm to be human. It made the room feel like ice. “And someone inside these walls knew exactly what they were doing.” The room is dead quiet. I stepped forward. “I want everything. Every guard, every servant, every lieutenant must give a report of their location for today. Where were you? What did you see? What did you hear?” The youngest guard shuffled, bowing nervously. “A-Alpha…We—” Excuses. Always excuses. And now Winter was paying the price for it. “Did I ask you to speak yet?” I growled, cutting him off. My wolf stirred, a surge of raw power threatening to push me over the edge. I could feel it wanting out, claws digging into reality like it wanted to tear through the room. “I don’t want excuses. I want the truth. Now.” The sheer power behind my voice has him bent over, knees bent, bowing deeper, as if pressing himself into the floor would shield him from the storm in me. It wouldn’t. Another guard cleared his throat. “Alpha… we—” “Do not fucking speak until I ask.” My voice snapped like lightning across the room. My wolf’s growl under my ribs grew louder, like a rolling avalanche. The hairs on the back of the necks in the room stood up. I could see it in their eyes, they knew the storm was coming, and that was never a good sign. I stepped closer to the nearest guard, my shadow stretching over him like a predator poised to strike. My wolf’s scent filled the room, the raw, terrifying alpha scent of a predator the size of a polar bear. They all inhaled it, shivering instinctively. “Whoever struck Winter…” I said, my voice dropping to a rumble that made the chandeliers sway slightly. “…will regret it. But first, I need names. Times. Movements, Locations, Anything.” A lieutenant, older and usually steady, swallowed hard. “Alpha… There was a disturbance near the Blood-Fang trail. No one could see who it was…” I slammed my fist against the table, shaking it. My wolf snarled in my chest, claws itching to burst free. “No one could see? Or no one is saying what they saw? Which one?” The room trembled. The guards and maids flinched as if I had struck a beast into their very bones. Silence. “You think this is a game,” I said, pacing slowly, my eyes narrowing, calculating. “That you can hide information from me?” I chuckle darkly. “Or her identity as a witch is the reason you all couldn't care less earlier right? She can fall and die for all I care, right?” The truth is written in their guilt-struck faces. I was right. They didn't care about Winter, and that was the reason they ignored her cries. My wolf is prancing about in fury. “From the second Winter was mated, she became one of our own. So let this be a warning. If something like this repeats itself…” One of the servants tries to speak. “But Alpha she's not one of us, the blood of our people still cries out on that same path she was on. Don't you—” I rush at him, grabbing him by the throat. He gags, my arms wrapped around him like a vice. When did all this bullshit start huh? Probably because it was almost a full moon again. The full moon made our wolves more aggressive, and temperamental. Regardless, I will not tolerate this insubordination. “I do not care. As of now on, Winter is one of us. I do not care for your opinions. What I'm saying is she's one of us now whether you like it or not. Is that clear?” His face is a dark shade of red. He nods repeatedly, and I squeeze his neck once before dropping him just to get the message across. I turn to the others, who have subtly shifted away in fear. “Is that clear?” They nod. “Now, I will not ask again.” My eyes swept across the room. “Do you want me to let my wolf loose? To tear this place apart until someone talks?” The floor vibrated faintly under my presence. They all knew I meant it. I let the tension hang for a moment longer, then walked towards my seat, my wolf retreating just slightly under my control, but only slightly. “Start from the beginning. Who saw her leave the palace today?” I said, voice sharp and precise. Every single guard gives a slightly different story. Some hesitated, some stumbled over the truth. My wolf sensed lies before I could even process them. I stopped at one, a young woman, the maid who was there when she and Derrick ate. “You. When last did you see her? You work in the kitchens, right before the gardens, what did you see?” “Alpha,” she says bowing slightly, her cleavage exposed from the move. The movement is deliberate. Practiced. I look away immediately, disgust curling in my stomach. Not now. Not ever. “I haven't spotted her today Alpha…I guess she's really—” I crouched slightly, lowering my head so she could feel the presence of my wolf. “You lie,” I said simply. My hand traced the air near her throat. “Your pulse. Your fear. It’s telling me more than your mouth. You know something. Tell me now, or you will wish I hadn’t stopped my wolf.” Her brows fly upwards. She folds. Yes, someone had passed, someone moving too fast to be a normal wolf. But she claimed she wasn't sure if it was someone or a trick from her mind. Someone cloaked in magic. Someone watching Winter. I straightened, letting the wolf’s presence settle over the room like a storm cloud. “Good. You spoke,” I said. “Keep your secrets, and you will fail. Do you understand me?” “Yes, Alpha,” she whispered, The process continues for over an hour. Their responses tell me something. My wolf was right. There was something in the air, something was wrong. Something was missing. The attacker left nothing behind. Nothing. No scent. No trace. Only Winter, broken and alone. The thought made my claws itch. My jaw clenchs so tight it aches. I paused, looking around at the faces in the room. They were terrified. Good. They should be. This wasn’t about intimidation for fun. This was about survival. This was about making sure that anyone thinking of touching her, of hurting her, of lying to me, knows what happens next. Because the next time, I wouldn’t be holding back. I turned sharply toward the door. “Search the perimeter again. Double it. Every hidden corner. Every blind spot. I want eyes and ears everywhere. Someone knows something, they will come forward, or they will answer for it.” I think of Winter again, lying in my bed, still unconscious, still fragile. My wolf growled low in my chest, the promise of vengeance burning through it. Whoever did had just announced that they were playing a game with me. And I never lose. Not when it’s her. Not when it’s my mate. Not ever. I take a deep breath, trying to calm the surge of power, the heat of the anger that still simmers like molten metal. My wolf is satisfied, for now, but the hunt has begun. And I will find every last piece of this puzzle. Because someone dared. Someone dared to strike at Winter Blackbird. And they are going to regret it.Keon's POV: The chamber had become so quiet that the steady, low hiss of the burning torches seemed to echo off the vaulted ceiling. Not a single chair scraped against the stone floor. Not a single person shifted their weight. Even the oldest, most battle-hardened wolves in the room knew better than to interrupt Derrick once he reached this point. He stood over the old Delta without crowding him. He didn’t need to. The sheer difference in height and presence alone was enough to pin the man in place. "...Let's start again," Derrick’s voice remained cool, almost conversational, cutting through the heavy air. "Where were you yesterday?" The old Delta swallowed hard, his eyes darting briefly toward the ancient black granite table before locking back onto the prince. "I... I already submitted my official report, Prince Derrick—" "You did," Derrick agreed with a slow nod, his expression entirely unreadable. "And it was false." A sharp muscle jumped beneath the old wolf's jaw, th
Keon's POV: The torch fell back into place with a heavy, metallic thud as the massive oak doors slammed shut behind us. This room, its history ran deep into the very bedrock of our territory. It was a space built on ancient foundations, a chamber designed for a past that our ancestors had tried to bury. Four Clans. One table. Some clans had stood the test of time, adapting and surviving the turning of the ages, while others had vanished completely into ash and memory. Yet, through the rise and fall of regimes, one thing had remained completely constant. The table remained. Carved from a single, gargantuan slab of black granite, its polished surface formed an enormous, intricate compass. North. East. West. South. Time and centuries of heavy use had weathered the edges smooth, but not even the turning of the world had managed to shift its direction. Legend claimed that before the Great Wolf-Witch War, the stone compass had turned freely, spinning on a mystical axis to refl
Keon's POV:Sleep had become a courtesy I occasionally extended to my body. Nothing more.The dawn hadn't yet broken, but the palace was already beginning to stir beneath my window. Guards changed shifts below in practiced, rhythmic silence, their armor clinking softly in the heavy air. Life continued. It always did, entirely indifferent to the wreckage left in its wake.I rested both hands against the cold stone railing of the balcony, leaning my weight forward and letting the rain-soaked wind strike my face. The icy droplets bit into my skin, but it still wasn't enough to drown out her scent.Gods. Even after washing. Even after changing clothes twice. Even after forcing myself to stay on the absolute opposite side of the palace, away from her wing of the castle, she lingered. Not on my skin, where the physical trace could be scrubbed away, but somewhere deep beneath it. The bond pulsed quietly beneath my ribs, simply existing.I closed my eyes, a heavy sigh escaping into the dark
Winter's POV: Neither of us spoke for several minutes. The fire had burned lower in the hearth, leaving the room bathed in soft amber and silver where the moonlight slipped through the curtains. Somewhere outside, rain tapped gently against the stone balcony, a rhythmic, soothing backdrop to the storm that had just settled between us. Sabrina broke the silence first. "...Can I see it?" I looked up, momentarily taken aback by the request. "The mark," she clarified, speaking carefully this time, as if handling something incredibly fragile. "The soulmate mark." For a heartbeat, I simply stared at her. The secret had been hidden under layers of fabric and concealment charms for so long that revealing it felt like exposing a raw nerve. Then, without a word, I nodded. I stood from the chair, suddenly very aware of my own body again. Derrick's oversized shirt hung loosely around my frame, the soft fabric brushing against my thighs as I turned around, turning my back to her. "It isn'
Winter's POV I lowered my eyes, watching the moonlight ripple faintly across the surface of the nearly finished tea in Sabrina’s cup. The pale liquid caught the silver light, trembling slightly with every heavy breath I took. I had never narrated this to anyone other than Mother, and now that it was finally out in the open, the space between us felt entirely rearranged. "I don't think I told you everything," I murmured, my voice barely carrying over the crackle of the hearth. Sabrina had just taken another bite of the berry dessert. She paused mid-chew, her sharp gaze locking onto mine as she slowly swallowed. She set her spoon down with deliberate care, the soft clink against the ceramic sounding remarkably loud in the quiet room. "Considering we've spent the last hour discussing what might become the greatest diplomatic headache of the century," she said, her dry tone laced with a sudden, underlying tension, "that's a rather concerning sentence. What didn't you tell me?" I dr
Winter's POV I pause as a sudden realization chills me. "Did he—" She nods, her expression turning somber. "Keon told me about your second attack. He knew I needed to understand the full scope of the danger we're dealing with if I'm going to help get it out." She takes another bite from the dish tray, chewing thoughtfully before continuing. "As I was saying. The first thing Derrick asked when we arrived was about you. Not the treaty, not the perimeter security, not the casualty report. You. Wonder why?" I tilt my head in confusion, my brows furrowing. I think about what she'd just said earlier, trying to piece the puzzle together, but the logic feels just out of reach. "I don't get it. Why would a scent marker make him drop his guard?" She sighs. "Sometimes I forget you're not a werewolf. In our world Winter, you don't live in a world governed by instincts you can't see, smell or feel. Wolves rule, live by, and establish dominance by their senses, one of which is the sense of
Chapter 63: Winter's POV The room is silent after her last words. If the Eye of The Witcher, the single most important ancient symbol of protection and favor to Witchkind that hasn't been reported to make a single appearance since the Wolf-Witch War, wasn't what scared her, I don't know if I
Winter's POV For a long moment after my mother's words, neither of us speaks. The room is quiet except for the occasional crackle from the fireplace and the distant sounds of the palace beyond the walls. I should be thinking about the relics. Or the attacks. Or the eye from my dreams. In
Winter's POVThe silence after my mother's words feels heavier than anything that came before them."If he is right, Winter... then the attacks against you are not random anymore."The sentence hangs in the air between us long after she finishes speaking.I stare at her.She stares back.For the fi
Keon stands from the chair, waving to me slightly before walking out. Probably to welcome Mother or something. They spend a good five minutes together, discussing in hushed tones.When Keon mindlinks me goodbye, I know it's time to face the music.I'm shaking.Why am I shaking?The door closes qui







