Knotted By The Three Feral Alphas

**Chapter 106: Voices in the Hall**

Her words carried real steel. I adjusted her grip and let her strike the practice post again. Around us the pack moved with purpose. The raid had cost us supplies but gained us prisoners and fresh hatred for the north. That hatred could be shaped into something stronger.

By midday I met with the kings in the war room. We planned the next strike, smaller teams this time, aimed at supply lines. Kane would lead one. Rylan another. I would coordinate from the keep but stay ready to ride if needed.

As evening fell, Lila climbed into my lap during supper and whispered, "If the bad wolves come here, I’ll hide Thorne and Elara. Then I’ll call you."

I hugged her tight, chest aching with love and fear in equal measure. The north kept reaching for us. But every day my daughter grew more determined to push back.

The prisoners revealed one last detail before night fell. Their camp held something ancient. A relic tied to the original curse. They believed the twins’ blood would unlock it.

I looked out across the darkening ridges and felt the weight of generations pressing down.

We had drawn our line in blood and fire.

Now the north would learn exactly how deep that line ran.

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

The next morning the great hall buzzed with unease. Older gammas filled the front benches, their faces carved deep with years of border fights and harsh winters. I took my seat at the head table with the kings flanking me. Garrick stood to one side, arms crossed. The air felt thick before anyone spoke.

Calder rose first, a grizzled gamma with gray threading his beard. "We burned fields defending farms that barely feed us through winter. Another raid like that and we’ll be eating our own horses by spring. How many more lives for this northern shadow?"

Murmurs rippled through the hall. Several heads nodded. A woman near the back called out, "My son died in the last clash. I want vengeance, but not at the price of starving the rest."

I let the noise crest then fall. When the hall quieted, I stood. "You think I don’t count every loss? Every empty chair at supper tables? I feel them here."

I pressed a hand to my chest. "But hiding behind these walls won’t stop them. They want our children. They believe our blood can rewrite their broken power. If we wait, they will come when we are weakest."

Calder didn’t back down. "Words are easy, my queen. We need grain, not speeches. The outer packs already whisper that Frostfang brings trouble to everyone."

The challenge hung there. I walked around the table and stopped in front of him. "Then let them whisper. I rode out yesterday and brought back prisoners who confirmed their plans. They hit us because they think we will break. Every farm we save, every supply line we cut, tells them different. You want grain? We take theirs. You want safety? We make them fear stepping south."

I turned to the full hall. "I will not trade my children’s future for short peace. But I will not ask any of you to bleed alone. Double the hunting parties. Open the deep stores for the farms that burned. And those who still doubt, ride with the next team. See for yourselves what waits beyond the ridges."

Silence stretched. Then Garrick slammed his fist on a table. Others followed. The sound grew until the rafters shook. Calder held my gaze a long moment before he gave one slow nod. The older gammas relaxed their shoulders. The hall shifted from doubt to grim purpose.

By afternoon the mood in the yard had changed. Trainees drilled harder. Women sharpened blades with new focus. Lila practiced beside me again, her small wooden sword moving with extra snap. She glanced at me between strikes. "They listened to you. Even the grumpy ones."

"They did," I said. "Because fear talks loud until someone answers louder."

Thorne and Elara watched from a blanket near the wall, bundled against the chill. Thorne pointed at the targets and made excited noises. Elara clapped every time Lila landed a solid hit. Their simple joy grounded me after the heavy morning.

As dusk settled I walked the walls with Darius. He stayed quiet for a long stretch before speaking. "You turned the room today. Not with force. With truth they could feel."

"It needed saying," I replied. "We can’t win if half the pack doubts every step."

Kane joined us later, carrying a report from the prisoners. Rylan found us near the northern tower, axe resting on his shoulder. The four of us stood together as the stars came out, the bond humming with shared exhaustion and shared fire.

That night in our chambers the children slept soundly after full bellies and stories. I closed the inner door softly and turned to the kings. The day’s weight still sat on all of us, but something else crackled underneath.

Darius pulled me to him first, his kiss slow and deep, hands sliding under my tunic. Kane moved behind me, scarred fingers tracing my spine with surprising gentleness. Rylan watched for a moment then joined, his touch playful yet hungry as he nipped my shoulder.

We didn’t rush. Clothes came off piece by piece, mouths following every newly bared stretch of skin. I tasted salt and smoke on Darius’s neck. Kane’s quiet growls vibrated against my back. Rylan whispered rough praises against my thigh before he used his tongue in ways that made my knees buckle.

They took turns and then together, the bond flaring bright between us. Every touch carried the day’s tension and released it. I rode Darius slow and deep while Kane kissed me breathless and Rylan marked my hip with teeth and tongue. When release hit me it rolled through all four of us like a wave, leaving us tangled and breathing hard.

Afterward we stayed woven together under the furs. Darius kept one hand on my belly. Kane rested his forehead against mine. Rylan draped an arm across us all. The bond felt richer, steadier, like the day’s trials had forged it stronger instead of wearing it thin.

Sleep came eventually, but not before I heard Lila’s soft breathing from the next room and the twins shifting in their sleep. My family lay safe for another night.

Morning would bring new plans against the northern camp. We had turned the pack’s doubt into resolve today. But the real test still waited farther north, where ancient power stirred and hungry eyes looked south toward my children.

I closed my eyes and let the kings’ warmth hold me.

Tomorrow we would strike their supply lines. And I would make sure the north understood exactly who protected this keep.

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

I changed that plan before sunrise. Four of us slipped out under cover of darkness: me, Darius, two trusted gammas who moved like ghosts.

Kane and Rylan stayed behind with most of the guard, ready to defend if we failed to return. The risk tasted bitter, but we needed eyes inside their heart, not guesses from a distance.

We traveled light and fast, ditching horses at the last ridge and continuing on foot through thinning pines. Frost crunched under our boots.

By the time the enemy camp lights appeared, my legs burned and my breath fogged the air. We circled wide, using a dry creek bed for cover, then crawled the final stretch on our bellies until we lay beneath a cluster of supply wagons.

Voices drifted from the central pavilion. I signaled Darius to stay close and edged forward until I could peer between two wagons.

Inside the open flap, firelight danced across heavy furs and iron braziers. A tall woman stood at the center, her dark braids woven with silver and what looked like tiny finger bones. Power clung to her like smoke.

She spoke to her captains in a voice that carried old authority. "The cursed kings’ spawn carry the broken pieces. My grandmother’s blood sealed their fate. My blood will unseal it. Drain the twins under the right moon and the curse becomes ours to command. Immortality for every loyal wolf who follows me. No more hiding in frozen wastes."

One captain shifted uneasily. "The queen fights like a demon. She took down Lira in open battle."

The woman who was apparently Vespera’s successor’s right hand, or perhaps something worse, laughed once, sharp as cracking ice.

"Elena carries latent strength but she is still mortal. Cut her children and watch her shatter. Bring them breathing. I need their hearts still beating when the ritual begins."

My stomach twisted hard. Darius’s hand gripped my shoulder, claws pricking through my cloak in silent warning. The truth landed like a hammer: this woman carried the original witch’s direct line.

The same curse that bound my kings now fueled her hunger for my babies. She didn’t just want power. She wanted to flip the curse inside out and rule forever on their stolen lives.

A guard’s boot scraped nearby. We froze. One of our gammas breathed too loud. Shouts erupted. Torches swung in our direction.

"Run," I hissed.