Serena touched her throat and sighed. Her hand fell to the side and then she shuddered. These Dawnbreak wolves were not on a holiday, they had come for business. It had been about three days since the communal feast. The woman bit her lip and looked over at herself in the mirror. The dress was nothing to speak of, modest, dark plum with a layered collar but she still loved every one of Livia’s creations. There was something dignified in their simplicity.
In the three days since, she had hardly seen Darius. And the times she did, he looked nothing like the man she had begun to know. His full lips were always drawn into grim lines, and the jokes that once fell easily from his mouth had since evaporated. She rubbed her arm absentmindedly and tried not to frown. She could only imagine how much stress he must have been under.
Her eyes drifted to the desk.
She crossed the room and unfolded the rough note Livia had sent her earlier that morning. It was written in her unmistakable hand, short and to the point.
"We ride to Blackthorn. Mid-morning. Bring nothing foolish. Wear something practical. –L."
No signed full name or a formal address but oh so clearly from Livia. Serena exhaled through her nose and shook her head, then read it again just to be sure she hadn’t missed any hint or some hidden message. She went over the words and then she snickered, her mind was already playing games with her, of course there was no hidden message.
"I have grown awfully bored of this," Feyra grumbled.
Serena smiled and then rolled her eyes, Feyra the ever so quiet wolf spirit had slinked her way back as she always did. Though their conversations were few and far in between, Serena was always grateful for her presence.
"Me too," Serena murmured.
It made sense to hold the talks at Blackthorn Keep. Dawnbreak had sent their own, but they hadn’t brought numbers enough to breach Ironshade’s walls. Still, the castle might have felt too much like enemy ground. The Keep was a wiser location, old, neutral, and secure. She could see the political care in it.
She folded the note and tucked it away, then opened her drawer and retrieved her gloves. Her fingers trembled as she pulled them on.
"All the council members will be there," she muttered aloud, half to the air. That was her assumption, anyway. A show of unity, strength, and diplomacy. She wasn’t sure what role she would play, if any, but Livia had summoned her, and that was reason enough. She was the proposed wild card but until she was pushed into the spotlight she would have to bid her time and be smart. The woman pressed her fingers to her forehead, easier said than done.
When she stepped outside, the wind caught the hem of her cloak. Morning light was just beginning to press through the clouds, soft and pale. She could already see Livia waiting near the courtyard arch, her figure upright and still, seated atop a pale grey mare. She looked like a statue pulled from old mountain stone, regal and unmoving.
Serena approached quietly.
"You are late," Livia said, though not unkindly.
"By a breath," Serena replied.
Livia clicked her tongue and gestured to the horse waiting nearby. "Mount your steed quickly. We are going to ride fast."
Serena swung into the saddle, grateful for the familiar rhythm of movement. The stirrups were high, but she adjusted quickly. Neither woman said much after that. The hooves clattered over packed soil and damp road, the trees along the edge of the trail whispering in time with the wind.
Serena kept her gaze forward, but her thoughts wandered.
She remembered the child from the feast, the one with the stomachache and dirt-smudged cheeks. She remembered Elen’s laughter, Riven’s steady stare, the smell of roasted pine nuts and rich mead in the air.
Now it was all quiet. Now it was all politics and tension again.
After nearly half an hour, the looming structure of Blackthorn Keep began to rise before them. Perched on a low ridge and framed by old pine, it was stark and sturdy, built with defense in mind, not comfort. The stone was dark and mossy, and its walls curved slightly inward, as though it were bracing itself against time.
Serena slowed her horse as they neared the gates. A wry smile crept across her lips, this was her temporary home for a little bit. She was not sure what emotion it was but her chest tightened a bit, for a little while she was considered important enough to be allowed to live here.
"Keep your shoulders straight," Livia said, not looking at her.
They passed through the archway, the guards already recognizing them and nodding. A few Dawnbreak wolves lingered in the inner courtyard, speaking low among themselves, their cloaks bearing the silver sun crest of their house. One or two glanced up at the newcomers, curious but not hostile.
Serena dismounted and took a breath. The air here seemed different, a lot of different scents mingled in the air.
"I need to see to the seating and the materials," Livia said, swinging down smoothly. "The Keep’s steward is an old weasel who will try to hide the good chairs. Find Silas if you see him, or do not, just keep out of trouble until things begin." Check latest chapters at Nov3lFɪre.ɴet
"I was hoping you would say something warm and uplifting," Serena muttered.
Livia gave her a long look. "You will live."
With that, she turned and strode toward the southern wing. Serena remained for a moment in the courtyard, her breath misting in the cool air. She looked up at the turrets. A hawk circled lazily above.
She whispered a small prayer then, under her breath.
"Let things go smoothly. Let the words land gently. Let us not fall apart now."
She wasn’t sure if she prayed for herself, or for Darius. Then she squared her shoulders and stepped through the Keep gates.