Chapter 40: The Sister’s Fury
Chapter 40: The Sister’s Fury
Aeron opened the note.
One line, written in hurried, unfamiliar script:
They have a second assassin already inside the tower.
Tonight.
The bond flared. Sharp, cold, and furious.
Aeron crushed the note in his fist.
His eyes met Seren’s.
"Get to the tower," he said quietly. "Now."
They moved in tight formation, boots striking the corridor in near-perfect unison. The bond between them thrummed with urgent warning, sharp, electric, pulling them forward even as the note in Aeron’s fist burned like a live coal.
They had barely reached the spiral staircase when the same young guard who had delivered the message came sprinting back, face slick with sweat, eyes wide with fresh panic.
"Your Highnesses, another message!" He skidded to a halt, thrusting a second folded parchment toward them. This one was sealed with deep crimson wax imprinted with a delicate wolf’s paw; the personal sigil of Princess Elowen.
Aeron snatched it, broke the seal with a sharp twist, and scanned the elegant, slashing handwriting. His expression darkened instantly.
Kael growled low in his throat. "What now?"
Aeron read aloud, voice flat and cold:
"’Brothers,
You dare declare yourselves kings in open court? You parade your human whore on the dais and call it unity? I am the eldest. The first-born of our father’s blood. The throne is mine by right of birth, and I will not stand by while you three spit on every law and tradition that built this kingdom.
Tonight, the game changes.
Enjoy your little triumvirate while it lasts.
—Elowen’"
Silence crashed down the corridor.
Seren felt the bond flare hot and vicious. Kael’s claws slid out with a soft metallic scrape. Theron’s usual playful mask cracked into something lethal and amused. Aeron’s jaw tightened until the muscle jumped.
"She sent the warning about the assassin," Aeron said quietly. "Not to help us. To toy with us. To remind us she’s always one step ahead."
Kael’s voice came out a snarl. "I’ll rip her throat out myself."
"Easy, brother," Theron murmured, though his eyes glittered with dangerous calculation. "She wants us to be angry. Angry wolves make mistakes. And right now, she’s furious because we just stole the narrative she’s been weaving for months."
Seren stepped closer, the silver mark at her throat pulsing in time with her rising heartbeat. "She truly believes the throne belongs to her because she was born first?"
Aeron folded the letter with deliberate care, tucking it inside his tunic. "She has always believed it. Father never named an heir precisely to keep us all dancing on strings. Elowen sees the triumvirate as the final insult, three males sharing power while she, the eldest, is pushed aside because of old laws that say only males may rule."
Kael cracked his knuckles, the sound echoing off the stone. "Then she can choke on those old laws. We declared ourselves kings together. She can declare herself queen of the dungeons for all I care."
Theron let out a soft, humorless laugh. "She won’t go quietly. She’s been courting the eastern houses, whispering to the border lords, even sending feelers toward Magnus. This letter is her declaration of war, elegant, venomous, and timed perfectly to rattle us right after the hall."
They resumed climbing the spiral stairs, shoulders brushing, senses stretched wide. The bond pulled tighter, feeding each of them the others’ tension. Seren could taste Aeron’s cold strategy, Kael’s raw protective rage, and Theron’s razor-sharp mind already spinning new webs.
When they reached the royal wing, the outer antechamber was dimly lit, the heavy oak doors to their private quarters slightly ajar. A single loyal guard, hand-picked, stood at attention, but his face was pale.
"Is everything okay?" Aeron asked.
"All okay, Your Highness," the guard replied. "No one has entered or left since you departed to the hall."
Kael pushed past him, sword half-drawn. Theron slipped in like smoke, his daggers already in hand. Aeron kept Seren behind him, one arm extended protectively.
The sitting room was empty. The hearth burned low. Everything looked untouched, until Seren’s gaze fell on the long table near the window.
A single white rose lay across the polished wood, its stem wrapped in crimson ribbon. Beside it rested a small silver dagger, its blade etched with the same wolf-paw sigil as the wax seal. A folded note was pinned beneath the dagger’s point.
Kael reached it first. He read silently, then handed it to Aeron with a vicious curse.
Aeron’s voice was ice when he read aloud:
"’If you three insist on sharing a throne, then I will share your deaths. The human dies first. Then the rest of you, one by one, until the crown sits on the only head worthy of it. Mine.
The first-born claims what is hers.
Sleep lightly tonight, brothers.
—E’"
Theron picked up the white rose, twirling it between his fingers. A single drop of blood welled on his thumb where a hidden thorn had pricked him. He smiled, but there was no warmth in it.
"She’s bold. I’ll give her that. Slipping a message and a dagger past our new guards while we were still in the hall? That takes skill. Or an insider’s help."
Seren stared at the silver dagger. The blade was beautiful, deadly, and unmistakably meant for her throat. The bond surged with protective fury from all three princes at once.
Aeron set the note down slowly. "She’s furious because we declared ourselves kings without her. She sees the triumvirate as theft, three males taking what she believes is her birthright. And she’s promising to take the throne herself, by any means necessary."
Kael paced the length of the room like a caged wolf, claws fully extended now. "Let her come. I’ll meet her on the training field and end this nonsense with steel."
"Brother," Theron said, voice deceptively mild, "you know Elowen. She doesn’t fight fair. She fights smart. She’ll turn the court against us, rally the houses that still cling to ’tradition,’ maybe even strike an alliance with Magnus if she thinks it buys her the crown. This letter is her opening move, warning us she’s coming while daring us to stop her."
Seren picked up the silver dagger carefully, testing its balance. It was perfectly weighted for a woman’s hand. "She called me a whore in the first letter. In this one she calls me ’the human’ again. She’s terrified of what I represent. Not just a mate, but a living proof that the old bloodlines can change. That a human can become a wolf. That three brothers can share power without tearing each other apart."
Aeron turned to her, eyes softening for the briefest moment. "She’s always hated being sidelined because of her gender. Father used it against all of us, he kept us competing, kept her angry. Now she sees us united and it’s driving her mad."
Kael stopped pacing. "Then we stop playing her game. We hit first. I’ll double the guard on every approach to this tower. Purge anyone who even looked at her twice."
Theron nodded, already moving toward the writing desk. "I’ll start turning her own spies tonight. She has at least three in the eastern wing. By morning I’ll know every letter she’s sent in the last week."
Aeron placed his hand on Seren’s shoulder again, thumb brushing the glowing mark at her throat. "And you stay with one of us at all times. No exceptions. She wants you dead first because she knows killing you would shatter us."
Seren met his gaze, then looked at Kael and Theron in turn. The bond sang between them, fierce, protective, unbreakable.
"I’m not afraid of her," she said quietly. "She can send all the roses and daggers she wants. I survived silver poison. I survived Magnus’s threat. I survived becoming something the world says shouldn’t exist. Let her come. Let her try to take the throne from all four of us."
Kael’s grin was feral. "That’s my mate."
Theron chuckled softly. "Careful, little wolf. You’re starting to sound like us."
Aeron’s expression remained grave, but pride flickered in his eyes. "We face her together. Tomorrow we begin dismantling her support in the court. Tonight we fortify. No one sleeps alone."
He turned toward the inner chambers, motioning for them to follow.
But as they crossed the threshold, a soft click echoed from the far side of the room, the sound of a hidden panel sliding shut somewhere in the walls.
The four of them froze.
Kael’s sword was drawn out in a split second. Theron’s daggers flashed. Aeron pulled Seren behind him.
From the shadows near the hearth, a single white rose petal drifted lazily to the floor.
And in the air, came a faint, but unmistakable echo of delicate laughter. Elowen’s laughter, fading into the stone as though she had never truly left.
The tower was no longer safe.
And somewhere in the darkness, the eldest sibling had already fortified her war for the crown.
