Knotted By The Three Feral Alphas

We broke camp before the sun cleared the ridges. The pack moved with quiet efficiency, loading wounded onto stretchers, dousing fires, erasing signs of our presence.

I walked the line checking straps and morale, my thigh still stiff from the fresh stitches. Every step reminded me how little time we had left.

Two weeks until the alignment. Fourteen days before that woman tried to open my children on cold stone.

Darius matched my pace, his presence a steady anchor. "We send riders ahead with orders to evacuate the outer hamlets. Pull everyone behind the river line."

"Do it," I said. "And double the messengers to Frostfang. Garrick needs to know the exact window."

Kane fell in on my other side, his bandaged forearm hidden under a fresh sleeve. "I’ll lead the night harassment teams. Keep them blind and jumpy so they can’t organize."

Rylan brought up the rear with the scouts, his axe strapped tight. He had that restless energy again, the kind that came right before he did something reckless and brilliant.

"Give me thirty riders. We’ll burn their eastern forage stores before they settle for the night."

I approved both plans with a nod. Small strikes. Constant pressure. Make them bleed resources while we preserved ours. The pack had learned this rhythm well. No one questioned the orders. They simply adjusted packs and tightened belts.

We marched hard through the morning. The land rose into steeper hills that favored defenders. By midday we reached a narrow defile perfect for an ambush.

I called the halt and set teams to work blocking the pass with fallen trees and loose rock. If the northerners wanted to reach Frostfang, they would pay in broken bones for every mile.

While the work continued I found a sheltered spot behind a boulder and allowed myself a brief rest. My body ached in places I hadn’t noticed during the fighting.

Darius sat beside me without asking, passing over a skin of water. Kane joined a moment later, sharpening his favorite knife with slow, deliberate strokes. Rylan dropped down last, stretching his long legs.

"Fourteen days," I said quietly. "It feels both too long and not nearly enough."

Darius rested his hand on my knee. "We use every hour. No waste."

Kane tested the edge of his blade. "She needs them alive and together. That gives us something to work with. We control the ground. We control the timing."

Rylan leaned back against the rock. "And when she finally shows her face, I want first swing. Been dreaming about planting this axe between her eyes since you described that altar."

Their words didn’t soften the dread coiled in my chest, but they steadied it. I had three men willing to tear apart heaven and earth for our family. That counted for more than any army.

A scout arrived with fresh reports. The northern columns had slowed after our raid on their camp. Their supply situation looked worse than expected. Good news, yet I couldn’t shake the feeling the witch-blood heir had planned for setbacks. Women like her always kept hidden cards.

By late afternoon the defile was ready. We left a small rearguard and continued north toward home ground. The pace stayed punishing. I wanted every advantage of familiar territory before the final clash.

As twilight settled we made temporary camp in a protected hollow. Fires stayed tiny. Sentries doubled. I gathered the captains for a short council, laying out the next three days of movement. Hit and retreat. Draw them deeper into our valleys. Wear them down.

When the meeting ended I slipped away to a small stream cutting through the camp. The water ran clear and freezing. I knelt and scrubbed dried blood from my hands and face. The cold shocked my skin but cleared my head.

Darius found me there. He knelt beside me and took over, his large hands surprisingly gentle as he wiped a streak from my neck. "You’re carrying the weight of every decision."

"Someone has to." I turned to face him. "If I hesitate, if any of us do, those children pay the price."

He cupped my face, thumb tracing my jaw. "Then don’t hesitate. Lead like you always have. We follow."

Kane and Rylan appeared moments later. We stayed by the stream in a tight circle, the four of us connected by touch and the constant flow of the bond. No grand passion tonight. Just the simple need to feel each other breathing, alive, still fighting on the same side.

Later I lay under a thin blanket with their warmth surrounding me. Sleep came in fits. Every time I closed my eyes I saw stone altars and small bodies. Every time I woke one of the kings was there, hand on my shoulder or leg, grounding me back to the present.

Dawn brought movement again. We broke camp fast and pushed harder than the day before. The hills gave way to more open country closer to home. Scouts reported the northern force had resumed marching, slower but determined. They knew we were bleeding them. They simply didn’t care anymore.

I rode at the front with fresh purpose. The carved wolf stayed in my pocket, a constant reminder. Every mile we covered brought us closer to Frostfang and the children. Every strike we landed delayed the alignment.

By evening we reached the old watchtower overlooking the approach to our heartlands. I climbed the crumbling stairs alone first, needing the height and the quiet. The land spread out below, familiar ridges and valleys that had become home. Somewhere beyond them three small hearts waited.

The kings joined me at the top. Wind whipped around the stones. We stood in silence looking north, watching distant torch lights of the approaching enemy.

"Two weeks," I said again, softer this time. "We make them the longest two weeks of her life."

Darius placed his hand over mine on the parapet. Kane stood at my other side. Rylan leaned on the stone beside us, axe resting nearby.

Whatever came next, we would face it as one. No more running. No more reacting.

We had chosen the ground, the moment, and the price.

Now we would make the north pay it in full.

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

We pushed through the next two days without rest worth naming. The pack flowed across the hills like a blade drawn slow across skin, leaving nothing usable behind us.

I rode at the head with raw eyes and a back that protested every jolt. Messages flew between us and Frostfang in both directions. Garrick reported the children safe but restless. Lila had taken to sleeping with a small knife under her pillow. The thought twisted something deep in my chest.

On the third morning we reached the old stone bridge that spanned a deep gorge. Perfect choke point. I called the halt and walked the length of it myself, testing the ancient planks and stonework.

Darius stayed at my shoulder. "We could collapse it after we cross. Force them to take the long way around."

"Or we hold it," I said. "Make them bleed for every step across."

Kane joined us, scanning the far side. "Hold it. They’re tired. Hungry. Let them break against stone while we stay fresh."

Rylan arrived last, breathing hard from scouting ahead. "Their main column is six hours back. Angry. Their leader is driving them hard, but discipline is cracking. Some deserters already slipping away."

We made our stand there. The pack dug in on our side of the gorge, building barriers from fallen trees and loose rock.

I worked alongside them, hands blistering on the ropes as we reinforced the bridge itself with just enough weakness to make it treacherous. The hours passed in sweat and quiet curses. No one complained. They understood the stakes now.

By late afternoon the northern scouts appeared. We let them get close enough to see our numbers, then drove them back with arrows. The main force arrived as shadows lengthened. They didn’t charge immediately. Their leaders gathered at the far end, arguing.

I watched through a spyglass as the witch-blood woman moved among them, her braids catching the dying light. She gestured sharply, voice carrying faintly on the wind.

"They’re coming tonight," I told the kings. "She can’t afford more delays."

We ate cold rations standing up. I forced down dry meat and hard bread while Lila’s carved wolf pressed against my ribs in my pocket. The simple weight kept my hands steady.

Darius noticed and brushed his fingers over mine once, quick and grounding. Kane checked my weapons without a word. Rylan flashed a tight grin that promised violence.

The attack came after full dark.

Torches streamed across the far side like angry stars. They rushed the bridge in waves. The first ranks hit our barriers and died screaming as planks gave way beneath them. Those behind pushed forward anyway, driven by fear of their own leader more than courage.

I stood at the front with sword drawn, the gorge’s depth yawning below.