Knotted By The Three Feral Alphas

The boy kept talking, words tumbling out faster now. "There are twelve of us left. We have camps in the dead passes. We were going to wait for the next full moon when the kings are weakest, then come for the little ones. That’s the plan. Take the children alive. Use their blood to fix the curse in our own line."

I let the silence stretch after he finished. Lila shifted on my hip, her small voice piping up clear and loud for the first time in front of the whole pack. "Bad wolf," she said, pointing straight at the scout. "Bad wolf go away."

The hall went dead quiet. Then a few wolves chuckled, the sound low and surprised. Lila looked at me, proud of herself, and repeated it louder. "Bad wolf go away!"

I pressed a kiss to her temple and stood up. "You heard my daughter. The east wants my children to fix their broken curse. They think they can take what is mine and turn it into power. They are wrong."

I looked at the scout. "You came here to talk. You talked. Now you die as a message. Take him to the bailey. Make it public. Let every wolf who still listens to the east see what happens when they reach for my family."

The guards nodded "yes my queen." And dragged him away while we begged but I showed no mercy.

The execution happened before the sun cleared the eastern wall. The pack gathered in a wide circle. The boy didn’t beg anymore. He just stood there shaking while Rylan stepped forward with his axe. One clean swing. The body dropped with the head off. Blood soaked into the mud. No cheers. No jeers. Just the quiet understanding that the line had been drawn again.

I stayed until the crowd began to disperse, Lila still on my hip, her small hand patting my shoulder like she had done something important. Thorne and Elara watched from the cradle the women carried behind me, their eyes wide at the new sounds and smells. The kings stayed close, but they didn’t crowd me. They walked at my sides, present without smothering.

That afternoon in the nursery Lila became more vocal than I had ever seen her. She marched between the cradles, pointing at the twins and declaring "Mine" with absolute certainty every time one of them fussed.

When Thorne reached for a toy she had claimed, she stamped her foot and said "No, mine!" in a voice that carried down the corridor. The nursery women laughed softly. I crouched beside her and let her show me how she stacked the blocks, her little face serious and proud.

"You’re getting loud," I told her. "Good. The world needs to hear you."

She looked up at me, eyes bright, and repeated it back. "Loud. Good."

The kings found us there later. Darius lifted Lila onto his shoulders so she could reach the highest shelf. Kane sat on the floor and let Thorne climb all over him.

Rylan stretched out beside me, Elara on his chest, his hand resting on my knee. The bond moved between us easy and warm, the argument from the night before settled into something stronger.

Outside, the ridges stayed quiet for now. The remnant group had lost another piece. But I knew the east would not stop. They had tasted blood and they wanted more.

I looked at my three children and the three men who had become my equal and felt the wall I held inside myself stand firm.

The decision came at first light.

I stood on the eastern walkway with the wind cutting across my face and told the kings we were riding out before noon. Not a full force. Just twenty of our best, the ones who had trained hardest in the yard. I would lead them myself.

The remnant camp the scouts had located two ridges over was small enough to hit fast and hard. We would take their supplies, burn what we couldn’t carry, and bring back whatever information they had on the rest of their scattered group. The kings argued for half a breath. I stared them down until they saw I wasn’t asking.

By midday the horses were saddled and the gates opened. I rode at the front with my short blade strapped to my thigh and a fresh cloak pinned tight. Lila had watched me leave from the nursery door, her small hand raised in a wave that made my chest tighten. The twins had been asleep, their breathing steady in the cradle. I carried the memory of their faces with me as we climbed the first ridge.

The pass narrowed quickly. Snow still clung to the high rocks, but the lower slopes showed bare ground and the first green shoots pushing through. We moved silent, hooves muffled on the damp earth. Darius rode on my right, Kane on my left, Rylan at the rear. Their presence was solid but not smothering. They had heard me the night before. They stayed close without crowding.

We reached the remnant camp just as the sun hit its peak. Twenty tents clustered in a shallow bowl between two ridges, smoke rising thin from a central fire. I counted twelve men moving between the shelters. No women. No children. Just the ones who had chosen to keep fighting after Caius fell.

I gave the signal with a raised fist. We came down the slope in a tight line, horses picking up speed on the last stretch. The camp erupted. Men scrambled for weapons, shouts tearing through the air.

I drove my mare straight into the center, blade already out, and took the first man who lunged at me across the throat. Blood sprayed hot across my arm. The fight turned brutal and fast. Steel rang against steel.

A wolf shifted mid-leap and Rylan’s axe took its head before it landed. Kane moved like shadow, knife flashing in short, precise arcs. Darius cut through the center, his sword clearing a path wide enough for me to reach the command tent.

I kicked the flap open and stepped inside. The man inside was older, face scarred, eyes wide when he saw me. He reached for a blade on the table. I drove my sword through his shoulder and pinned him to the ground. "Talk," I said. "Or die slow."

He talked. Names spilled out between gasps. Three more camps further east. A cache of silver collars they had been preparing for the next full moon. A promise from a southern pack that they would join if the children were taken alive. I listened until his voice faded, then pulled the blade free and ended it clean.

The fight outside was already winding down. We lost two men. The remnant group lost nine. The rest fled into the rocks. We burned the tents, loaded the horses with their supplies, and took every scrap of paper and map we could find.

The ride back was quieter than the ride out. My arm stung where a blade had grazed it. My cloak was stiff with other men’s blood. But the bond between the four of us felt solid, the kind of strength that comes after you bleed together and still come home.

We reached the gates as the sun dropped behind the western ridge. Garrick met us in the bailey. His eyes flicked over the blood on my cloak, the new maps we carried, the two empty saddles. He said nothing. He simply nodded and started giving orders to tend the horses and the wounded.

I went straight to council.

The hall was already full. Word had spread. The gammas sat in their usual places, Calder near the front with his arms crossed. I stood at the head table with the new maps spread open and the captured papers beside them.

Lila was not with me this time. She was safe in the nursery with the twins. This moment was for the pack to see their queen standing alone with the kings at her back.

I laid it out without softening a single detail. The remnant group had been preparing silver collars. They had allies waiting in the south. They wanted my children alive to twist the broken curse into something they could control. I told them everything the dying man had confessed before I ended him.

Calder stood before I finished the last sentence. His voice cut through the hall. "You rode out during the time you were pregnant with twins and came back covered in blood. You lead raids while your children wait in the nursery. Is this the strength you promise us? Or is this the recklessness that will get us all killed?"

The hall held its breath.

I looked at him across the table and felt the bond steady behind me. The kings didn’t step forward. They didn’t need to. This was mine to answer.

"I rode out because the east is already moving," I said. "I rode out because waiting behind walls while they prepare collars for my children is not strength. It is fear. I came back with their plans and their supplies because that is what a queen does. She protects what is hers by meeting the threat head on. If you call that recklessness, then you have never understood what it means to lead."