Ann stood on the stone steps beside Adam as the palace gates dragged open with a groan, and the courtyard filled with the sound of shouting before the guards even realized who was staggering through.
The first of the survivors staggered into view and she had to stop her mouth from dropping open. She had expected a handful of scouts, maybe wounded soldiers but instead, half a dozen men and women stumbled forward, barely upright, with some supported by others, and some dragging themselves along the ground.
Blood streaked their armor, their skin blistered in patches and veins blackened beneath the surface, glowing faintly before dimming again.
Ann's throat tightened and she felt sick to her stomach. These weren't ordinary wounds. She knew exactly what they were.
Gasps rippled through the courtyard and the nobles pressed handkerchiefs to their noses, as though fabric could block out the stench of rancid blood and necrosis. Lycans at the edge of the crowd stiffened as the scent rolled over them, their shoulders rolling, teeth bared, claws twitching.
One of the nobles raised his voice, sharp and irritated rather than concerned. "Who let them inside? They should be quarantined…"
"They should be listened to," Ann cut in, louder than she intended. Her voice carried across the courtyard. The survivors lifted their heads, eyes glassy but fixed on the palace steps.
One man fell to his knees, coughing until blood splattered across the stone. He forced the words out anyway.
"They've unleashed them." His voice rasped, raw with strain. "Twisted things. Ely's spawn."
The courtyard fell quiet except for his breathing. Then he gagged, spat more blood, and pushed on.
"They don't just kill. They spread."
Ann felt Maeve's voice in the back of her mind, sharp and bitter.
"Well, that's delightful. Why bother with armies when you can vomit out a plague?"
She locked her jaw and forced herself to keep her expression neutral. Panic here would spread faster than any sickness.
Adam moved down the steps, each stride heavy and deliberate. His cloak dragged behind him, dark against the pale stone. He stopped in front of the man and crouched slightly, his presence filling the space so completely that the muttering nobles fell silent.
"What did you see?" Adam's tone was low, but it cut through every other sound.
The soldier raised his head. His eyes were bloodshot, and his lips cracked.
"Witches bound to Lycans. Flesh tied together. Corpses walking. Beasts made of pieces. The Lycan King behind them, laughing." He answered before breaking down into hoarse sobs.
Every noble in earshot flinched. The Lycans growled.
One lord broke the silence, his voice shrill.
"We cannot allow this abomination on our borders! Retaliation must be swift…"
"Swift?" A Lycan from the front line snarled, eyes bright with fury. "My brother's spine was torn out and carried like a trophy. Your swiftness won't bury him."
The nobles reeled back, horrified. The Lycans surged forward, their rage hot and loud. Shouts and growls rose at once, filling the courtyard until the air itself felt pressed thin.
Ann stepped forward, cutting the space between them. "Enough."
Her voice rang out, louder than she thought possible. Dozens of eyes swung to her. Her chest burned, but she held her ground.
"I understand that you want vengeance and you want safety. Neither will come if you tear each other apart before we face the real enemy."
"Congratulations," Maeve said dryly. "You're now nanny to a squabbling mob. Do we get a medal for babysitting the population?"
"We got a crown, Maeve. That's our reward." Ann replied patiently, but she shared her wolfs sentiment.
"Hmmm. I think I'd like to return it. It doesn't really seem worth the hassle, does it?"
Ann didn't let her lips twitch. Adam was watching her. His fury was obvious, but his attention was focused on her steadiness.
He straightened suddenly with his shoulders squared, and his eyes burning with his wolf.
"See to the wounded," He directed the guards and turned to the nobles and Ann, "Council room. Now."
The command shattered the noise of the new arrivals and the Guards rushed to carry the wounded inside. Nobles shuffled toward the palace steps, whispering urgently. Lycans broke into clusters, muttering threats as they stalked after them.
Ann followed Adam through the corridors, her pulse still racing. The smell of blood clung to her clothes and she resisted the urge to scrub her palms against her dress.
The council chamber filled within minutes. Nobles scrambled for seats at the long table, their silks rustling. Lycans circled the room, restless, refusing to sit. The noise rose instantly.
"They'll come for our estates first…"
"They already have…"
"You think your walls will hold…"
"You think your sons will…"
The arguments slammed against each other, growing louder by the second.
Ann cut in when she could, her words cutting sharply through the chatter with her voice steady.
"Your estate is not a fortress. Reinforce the city instead."
"Your sons are not enough. We need supply lines before soldiers."
Every time she spoke, the noise dipped for a heartbeat, but then it surged again.
Adam sat still at first, his gaze fixed on the table. He let the atmosphere build until the room practically shook with the nobles misplaced outrage, every voice climbing higher.
Then, without warning, he stood and slammed his fist on the table.
"Enough."
The single word hit harder than any shout.
The Lycans lowered their heads at once, and the nobles flinched as silence descended instantaneously.a hushed silence fell over the room.
Adam placed one hand on the table, his fist clenched in frustration to the point that his knuckles were white and the tendons in his wrist taut. His eyes glowed gold with his wolf pushing at the edges of his control, desperate to have his voice heard too and bring these unruly subjects to their knees.
"Ely and his coven have declared themselves enemies. The Lycan King has brought war to our gates. We will not beg for peace. We will not wait for another attack. The Dark Moon Pack and all who stand with us are at war."
No one moved. No one spoke. The words hung in the chamber above them waiting for someone to speak..
Ann drew in a long breath as she lowered her hand until it rested near his on the table, not touching but close enough for all to see. Together, side by side.
The silence stretched until the first noble shifted. A lord at the far end cleared his throat.
"If this is war, we need command structure."
A Lycan growled in response.
"You will not command us. Not after how some of your people have treated us."
Ann's eyes flicked between them and she sighed internally. The alliances were fragile already.
"You would have thought that being united against a common enemy would be enough. Apparently the threat of certain deaths isn't motivating enough for them." Maeve snorted.
She straightened her shoulders and braced for the fallout that would follow her next words.
"Then you'll follow orders. You don't have to like each other. You don't have to trust each other. But you will fight together, or you'll die alone. And if you die, they'll take what's left of you and send it back against your own kin. Is that what you want?"
The room went still again. Several nobles looked pale and even the Lycans hesitated.
"Nice speech," Maeve said, tone sharp with approval. "Almost sounded like you believed it."
Ann ignored her. Adam's gaze was on her, unreadable, but his jaw had eased slightly.
The council session continued, but the air was different now. The formal statement had been made now and the lines were drawn. There would be no turning back.
By the time the nobles filtered out and the Lycans dispersed, word had already spread beyond the chamber.
The guards at the door carried it into the corridors. Servants whispered it through the halls. By the time Ann and Adam stepped out onto the balcony, the camp below was stirring with the news.
Ann stood beside him, watching the torches flare as voices rose in waves with shouts of fear, shouts of fury and cheers of agreement.
The war they had dreaded was no longer a distant threat. It had begun.