Chapter 27: Chapter 27: The Child Is Cursed
Later that afternoon I walked the walls with Lila, the cold wind tugging at my cloak. Darius walked beside me, one hand on my lower back. Kane and Rylan followed a few steps behind, giving us space but staying close. The baby had fallen asleep against my chest, her small weight a constant reminder of why I was doing this.
"You’re changing things faster than they expected," Darius said quietly. "Some of them are scared. They’ve never had a queen who speaks back."
I smiled down at Lila’s dark hair. "Good. They need to be scared of something other than my father’s silver chains."
Kane caught up to us, his scarred hand brushing my arm. "The southern scouts report your father is still regrouping. He’s lost men, but he’s sending envoys to the smaller packs. He’s telling them the child is cursed and that keeping you here will bring the witch’s wrath on all of us."
Rylan snorted. "Let him talk. The packs that matter are already listening to us."
We stopped at the southern wall. The ridges stretched out below us, snow-covered and quiet for now. I felt the bond hum between the four of us, steady and warm, but the shadow of the curse was still there at the edges, waiting for the next full moon to test how strong we really were.
Lila stirred in the sling, letting out a small sound. I rocked her gently, the motion natural now, something I did without thinking. The pack below in the bailey watched us from a distance, some smiling, some still wary.
That evening in the chambers I sat by the fire with Lila at my breast while the brothers planned the next move. Darius wrote messages to the packs that had stayed silent. Kane sharpened blades for the riders who would carry them. Rylan paced, axe in hand, but his eyes kept drifting to the baby.
"She’s going to be faster than all of us," he said again, softer this time.
I looked at the three of them and felt the weight of the crown I had never asked for settle on my shoulders. It wasn’t heavy anymore. It felt right.
* * * * ** * * *
A week later the first real victory came.
The eastern ridge gamma who had complained about the law stood in the hall again, this time with his daughter beside him. She wore scout leathers now, a blade at her hip, her chin high.
"My daughter has already brought back two deer from the high passes," he said, voice grudging but clear. "She’s a better scout than half the men I know. The law... it was right."
The hall murmured. Some clapped. Others stayed silent, but the crack was closing, inch by inch.
I nodded at the girl. "Keep training. The North needs scouts who aren’t afraid to speak."
That night in the chambers I lay with Lila between us, her small body warm against my side. Darius’s hand rested on her back. Kane’s scarred fingers brushed my hip. Rylan pressed in from behind, his breath steady against my shoulder.
The bond hummed fierce and warm.
The war with my father wasn’t over.
The witch’s shadow still waited for the next full moon.
But for the first time, I wasn’t fighting alone.
I had a daughter who already carried the strength of three kings.
I had a pack that was starting to see me as theirs.
And I had three feral alphas who would burn the world down before they let anyone take us away.
The North was changing.
And so was I.
* * * * * *
Three months had passed since Lila’s birth, and the keep had settled into a rhythm that felt almost steady. She was bigger now — sitting up on her own, grabbing at anything within reach, her dark eyes following every face with a quiet intensity that reminded me of Darius when he was thinking too hard. The pack had stopped calling her "the bastard" in the open. Some even smiled when they saw her strapped to my chest in the sling while I moved through the halls.
But peace in Frostfang was always borrowed time.
I was in the war room with the brothers when the scout arrived, breathing hard, snow still melting on his cloak. He didn’t wait to be asked.
"Gamma Voss is moving again. Not with a full army.... smaller groups this time. They’re hitting our supply lines, our hunting parties, anything that leaves the walls. He’s not trying to take the keep. He’s trying to starve us out."
Darius’s hand tightened on the map spread across the table. Kane’s knife was already in his grip. Rylan’s eyes flashed gold for half a second before he forced it back.
I looked at the three of them. The bond hummed between us — steady, warm, but with that familiar shadow at the edges. The curse was weaker now, but it still waited for the full moon to test how much control we really had.
"How long until the next full moon?" I asked.
Kane didn’t look up from the map. "Eleven days."
Eleven days. That was all we had before the curse would push again, before one of them might start slipping if the bond wasn’t strong enough. Before the witch might decide the partial breaking wasn’t enough and come back for more.
I pressed my hand to my belly out of habit even though Lila was already here, the gesture had become something I did when the weight felt too heavy. The mark on my chest was still there, a faint scar now, but it never fully disappeared. Just another reminder that nothing was ever truly over.
Darius looked up at me. "We can’t keep playing defense. He’s bleeding us slowly. We need to hit him where it hurts."
I nodded. "Then we stop reacting and start choosing the ground. We send a small group south, not to raid, but to cut off his supply routes from the other side. Make it look like we’re pulling back, then trap whatever he sends after us. Kane, you lead it. Rylan goes with you. Darius stays here with me and the pack."
Kane’s jaw tightened. "You’re asking me to leave you here with the full moon coming."
"I’m asking you to trust that I can hold this place for eleven days. And that when you come back, we’ll be ready for whatever the moon brings."
Rylan’s grin was sharp. "I like it. Make the old bastard chase ghosts while we burn his routes."
Darius didn’t argue. He just looked at me for a long moment, then nodded. "Eleven days. We make them count."
The brothers left to prepare. I stayed in the war room with Lila, staring at the map until the lines blurred. The North was still bleeding, still testing us. But for the first time since I woke up in that prison cell, I wasn’t just surviving. I was choosing the next move.
I picked up Lila and held her close. She grabbed a fistful of my tunic and made a small, satisfied sound.
"We’re not running anymore," I whispered to her. "Not from him. Not from the witch. Not from any of it."
Outside the window, the snow was starting to melt on the southern ridges. Spring was coming, slow and cold, but it was coming. And with it would come the next full moon.
Eleven days.
We had eleven days to be ready.
And I planned to use every single one of them.
* * * * * * *
Four days later the snow had melted enough to turn the bailey into a sea of mud and half-frozen puddles. Lila was almost four months old, and she had discovered her voice which was loud, demanding little sounds that echoed through the chambers whenever she wanted attention. I carried her in the sling while I walked the outer wall with Darius, the cold wind cutting through my cloak but not touching the warmth of her body against mine.
The scout met us at the southern gate, his cloak splattered with mud. He didn’t waste words.
"Gamma Voss is moving supplies again. Not the main camp — smaller groups, hidden trails. He’s trying to stockpile for a long siege. But that’s not the part that matters."
Darius’s hand tightened on my lower back. "What is?"
The scout looked at me, then at Lila. "One of the captured men talked before he died. Voss isn’t just coming for the keep. He’s coming for the queen and the child. He’s offering gold to anyone who can get close enough to put a blade in the baby’s cradle."
The words landed like a stone in still water. I felt the flutter of old rage rise in my chest, but it was colder now, sharper. Lila made a small happy sound and grabbed at the edge of my tunic. I pressed my hand over her back, shielding her from the wind and from the words.
Darius’s voice was ice. "How many know?"
"Enough that the beta who questioned you before has started doubling the guard on the nursery. But some of the younger wolves are listening to the gold. They’re scared. They think handing over the child might save the rest of us."
