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The wolf pup was bony. Its fur was a midnight shade of black with silver on each paw. One ear was curled and half the size of the other, as though it never grew properly. I knelt beside its sleeping form and stroked its wiry fur.

“Things may be different,” I said and looked over my shoulder. “But surely they’re not that different, are they?”

The smallest smile teased his mouth. You want an enormous wolf following us everywhere?

I kept stroking the large head of the pup. “Well, it’s not like I can blame the poor thing. I know what it is like to be bonded to you, and it is a coveted experience.”

Roark laughed softly. He wanted the wolf—the truth of it was in the way he kept glancing at the beast—but he did not want to inconvenience me with a burly creature bonded to our household, our family, until we went to Salur.

I wanted Roark to be Draven, the clan of his blood. I wanted him to have the wolf he drew in his boyish art as a child. I wanted him to find a bit of the happiness he was robbed of so long ago.

But I could not tell him any of this before a horn blared over the courtyard.

Roark stiffened at once and hurled me to my feet.

From one of the towers near the gates, a Dark Watch warrior called down. “Stav Guard! They’ve breached the borders! Dravenmoor is under attack!”

26

Roark

The palace fell into violent madness.

Dark Watch units swiftly assembled beyond the gates, cowls over their heads, short blades in hand. Ram horns thundered across the courtyard, the sound rippling to the lower townships and villages.

Already the road to the palace was filled with frantic Dravens. Families fled for the safety of the royal house, elders were aided by the young, and children sobbed as their mothers pulled them forward to their assigned wings and safeguards.

Exactly as my father had arranged safety protocols during my childhood.

Between every block of Dark Watch were lines of fara wolves with their bonded warriors.

Brynn and Auki were among the first to leave the courtyard. In haste, Brynn fastened a leather band around Òlmr’s neck and sheathed two additional daggers. On command, the wolf would return to Brynn with a second wave of weapons, should she need it.

Auki worked with other keepers and armored the packs with leather across their haunches, spines, and skulls. My uncle barked orders and surrounded himself with half a dozen fara. He tugged the thick woolen hood over his head.

I wheeled on Emi. Take Lyra—

“No.” Lyra shoved between us, the damn fara pup now awake and following close behind. “Don’t even say it. They are here for me—”

Exactly, I interrupted. In what world would I send my wife to those who wish to harm her?

Lyra’s mouth tightened. “If we are to fight this together—bonded—then every fight we face we will be sending each other into battle with those who wish to harm us both. Do not think for a moment that any Jorvan out there will allow you to live should you be captured.”

We had no damn time for this argument.

Lyra took my hand and squeezed three times. “Roark, this fight is mine as much as it is yours. They want my life, so let me fight for it. They want yours, so let me fight for you as fiercely as you fight for me.”

Gods. I curled my hand behind her head and slammed her mouth to mine. The kiss was fast and heated and came close to painful. All I desired was to lock her away, to never let a blade come near her, but she was not wrong.

Lyra’s life had been shredded from these battles for her craft as much as mine had. If anyone deserved a bit of retribution, it was her.

We broke apart, our breaths heavy. My fingers moved quickly against her cheek. Arrows?

She nodded. “I won’t miss.”

Stay as far from them as you can. Consider that every move they make could be a trap.

“This is not where we end, Ashwood.” She grinned with a touch of malice. “I’m not nearly done with you.”