Page 69 of Blood Marked

The table was scattered with crumpled scrolls and overturned maps. Strategic points had been slashed through. Blood was drying in a half-circle near the stairs.

“Where’s Ruarc?” Kael asked.

Nyra shook her head. “No one’s seen him. If he’s not dead, he’s run.”

The words landed like a blade between his ribs.

His father, once the legend of this court—vanished. No goodbye. No order. No spine. Kael looked around at the soldiers still fighting. The wounded still screaming. At Selene, who now stood half-lit with the flickering wardlight, eyes burning with fury and fire. And something inside him snapped.

“We hold this citadel,” he said, voice like iron. “If Varyn’s turned, he’ll answer for it. If Ruarc is dead, I will take the crest. And if the Rising Flame thinks they’ve broken us—” He stepped forward, placed his hand on the war table. “Then we bury them.”

Silence followed.

Nyra nodded once. Selene stepped to his side. And in the ruins of the fallen citadel, Kael Fenrir claimed the mountain—not as heir.

But asAlpha.

THIRTY

SELENE

They gathered the court at dusk, once the Rising Flame had been pushed back—at least for now.

The battle-scarred keep stood like a wounded beast, walls singed and crumbling in places, the banners of House Fenrir hanging limp and torn. Fires had been extinguished, but smoke still laced the air, acrid and clinging to every breath. The surviving warriors—both noble and common-born—filed into the fractured war chamber in armor dulled by soot and blood. Advisors, emissaries, and old court figures stood along the edges, tense, bruised, and waiting.

No one spoke above a whisper.

The weight of what had just happened—the breach, the casualties, the betrayal from within—had changed the air. And they were waiting now, waiting for Kael to make the next move. To claim his place fully. To become the Alpha not just by blood, but by command.

Selene stood beside him.

Their fingers had brushed briefly when they entered, and she thought—hoped—it was a silent promise.

He said nothing at first.

Just moved slowly around the war table, eyes scanning the wreckage of maps and reports and the ceremonial blade still resting in its sheath. His jaw worked like he was grinding gravel between his teeth.

Selene glanced at Nyra across the table. The woman’s face was unreadable—tense, but calm, like she was bracing for something.

Selene turned back to Kael.

He still hadn’t looked at her.

She told herself he was just overwhelmed.

Of course he was—he’d just lost a father, a home, nearly lost her, and had stepped into a role none of them had been truly ready for.

So when he finally stepped forward, standing behind the war table like a general before a firing squad, she straightened too. She expected him to rally the court. To speak of unity. Ofthem.

Instead, the room went silent when he cleared his throat—and spoke to everyone but her.

“To secure peace,” Kael said, voice level, “and preserve the structure of House Fenrir through this war, I will fulfill the rite of leadership and complete the formal bond.”

Selene blinked.

Wait.

What?

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