Knotted By The Three Feral Alphas

I was walking the lower storerooms with Garrick when one of the guards dragged the man out from behind the grain barrels. He had been hiding there for hours, cloaked in shadow, a small pouch of northern runes clutched in his fist.

The guard shoved him forward and the man stumbled into the open, his face pale and his eyes darting like a cornered animal.

The pack gathered fast. Word spread through the corridors and the bailey until the entire space filled with boots and low voices. I stood in the center with the kings at my back, the children safe in the nursery under heavy guard. Lila had asked me before I left if the bad wolves were inside the walls. I had told her no, but now the lie felt heavy in my throat.

The man lifted his head when I stepped closer. His hands shook as he tried to hide the pouch, but Garrick ripped it free and held it up for everyone to see. The runes were carved into thin bone, the same symbols the northern triad had left on the marker stones.

"Speak," I said. "Tell them why you came here."

He swallowed hard, voice cracking. "The northern triad sent me. They want the twins alive. Their blood carries the broken curse. The leader believes it can be remade into a weapon that will let them rule every kingdom from the western sea to the frozen north. I was to watch the nursery and send word when the time was right."

The hall went dead silent. Some gammas stood up. Others gripped the edges of the benches. I looked at the man and felt the weight of every eye on me.

I drew the blade from my thigh. The steel caught the torchlight. The man’s breathing quickened, his eyes pleading.

"You came here to take what is mine," I said. "You will leave with nothing but with what happens when anyone comes near my children or territory!"

I drove the blade into his heart with one clean motion. He jerked once and sagged. I held him upright until the life left his eyes, then lowered him to the ground. Blood spread across the stones. No cheers rose. No gasps. Just the quiet acceptance that the line had been drawn again.

I wiped the blade and sheathed it. "We do not wait for the next spy," I said. "We strike first. Gather the best riders. We plan the attack on their main camp tonight."

The pack dispersed with purpose. I turned back toward the war room with the kings at my side. Darius walked on my right, his hand brushing my elbow once in silent support. Kane stayed on my left, his scarred fingers flexing near his knife. Rylan took the rear, axe resting across his shoulder, his steps measured.

We spread the captured maps across the table. The northern camp lay three ridges over, hidden in a narrow valley the scouts had marked two days earlier. I traced the route with my finger, noting the narrow passes and the open ground near the center.

"We go at dusk tomorrow," I said. "Small force. Twenty riders. We hit the outer sentries first, then drive straight for their leader’s tent. We take her alive if we can. Dead if we must. But we end this before they complete their ritual."

Darius studied the map. "The valley is tight. We send two teams around the ridges to block their escape. The main force drives through the center."

Kane nodded. "I take the left flank. Rylan takes the right. You stay in the center with the main group."

Rylan’s fingers tapped the table. "We burn the supplies they have stored. Starve them of resources while we take their leader. They will scatter after that."

I looked at the three of them. The bond between us felt steady, the argument from the night before settled into something stronger. They stood with me now, not over me. They had learned.

The rest of the afternoon passed in planning. We marked every route, every contingency, every position for the riders.

The children stayed in the nursery with the women, their laughter drifting down the corridor every so often. I let the sound anchor me while we worked. Thorne and Elara were beginning to babble real words. Lila was becoming more vocal every day. They were the reason we planned this strike. They were the reason we would not wait.

By evening the plan was set. I walked the corridors with the kings, checking the guard rotations one last time. The keep felt alive with purpose. Wolves nodded as we passed, their eyes sharp, their steps purposeful. The pack had chosen to stand with me after the last battle. They would support these diplomatic rides now.

We returned to the chambers as the sun dropped behind the western ridge. The children were already asleep in the big bed, tangled together in a pile of limbs and blankets. Lila had one arm flung over Thorne. Elara curled against her brother’s back. I stood in the doorway for a long moment, watching their small chests rise and fall.

The kings stayed close behind me. Darius rested a hand on my shoulder. Kane brushed his fingers along my arm. Rylan leaned in and pressed a kiss to the side of my neck.

We would ride at dusk tomorrow.

We would end this threat before they completed their ritual.

I turned to the three of them and felt the bond settle deeper, stronger than it had been since the night I returned from Shadowpine. The children slept safe between us. The keep held. The wall I held inside myself was still standing.

Tomorrow we would take the fight to the northern triad.

And we would bring it to them on our terms.

The silence after victory felt different. It was not empty. It was full of the small sounds of the children breathing, the low crackle of the fire, the steady presence of the kings around me.

****************

The next morning, our scouts galloped into the bailey as the sun climbed higher, their horses breathing hard and their cloaks streaked with mud. I stood on the steps with the kings beside me, the children safe in the nursery under heavy guard. The lead scout slid from the saddle before his mount stopped moving and dropped to one knee.

"They’re coming my queen," he said. "The northern triad. At least fifty riders. They left the far passes at dawn and they’re moving fast. Their leader rides at the front with two mates who look like they’ve never known defeat. They carry banners with the same runes we saw on the carved bone."

The pack gathered quickly, their faces tight as the words spread. I looked at the kings. Darius’s jaw tightened. Kane’s scarred hand rested on the hilt of his knife. Rylan’s fingers flexed on the reins of his horse, his axe already strapped across his back. The bond between us pulled tight, the four of us linked in the same cold anger.

I stepped forward and raised my voice so the entire bailey could hear.

"We knew this day would come," I said. "The bastards brought the fight to us. The northern triad wants my children alive to twist the broken curse in their blood into a weapon for their empire. They think fear will make us yield. They are wrong."

The pack murmured. Some gammas stood up. Others gripped the edges of their weapons. I looked at every face and let the silence stretch.

"We do not wait for them to reach our walls," I said. "We meet them on the field. Gather the best riders. We ride at dusk. We end this before they can complete their ritual."

The pack cheered, the sound raw and fierce. I stood there with the children safe inside the keep and the kings at my back and felt the keep shift beneath my feet. The northern triad had drawn its line.

We would draw ours in steel and fire.

We spent the rest of the day in the war room with the maps spread wide. I traced the northern routes with my finger, marking the narrow passes where we could set the first ambush.

Darius leaned over the table, his ice-blue eyes sharp as he noted the best positions for the archers. Kane checked the supply lists for the outer farms, his scarred hand steady on the parchment. Rylan paced the edge of the table, his fingers tapping the hilt of his axe as he studied the distances.

The children stayed in the nursery, their laughter drifting down the corridor every so often. I let the sound anchor me while we worked. Thorne and Elara were beginning to babble real words. Lila was becoming more vocal every day. They were the reason we planned this strike. They were the reason we would not wait.

By evening the plan was set. I walked the corridors with the kings, checking the guard rotations one last time. The keep felt alive with purpose. Wolves nodded as we passed, their eyes sharp, their steps purposeful. The pack had chosen to stand with me after the last battle. They would ride with me now.