"Riona made it clear—Wintertooth was not to be involved," Thorin admitted, his voice low. "But when those ancient vampires were too busy saving their own asses, I called for help."
Puck stiffened. "What?"
It wasn’t that he disapproved. Any help was welco, no matter how small. But Riona had been firm—she wouldn’t accept their aid if it ant putting Trudy in danger.
"I an... I didn’t think the vampires would help us," Thorin continued, frustration lacing his words. "With just the three of us—maybe the princess—what chance do we have against the emperor and a demon? Florian isn’t the boy we knew anymore. He’s a demon now. How do we kill the demon without killing him?"
His reasoning was sound. No one could fault him for wanting to help. But this wasn’t about good intentions. No matter how noble, every choice carried consequences—especially when lives were on the line.
Puck exhaled sharply. "Did you call Trudy and Charna?"
Thorin shook his head.
***
Zacharia was not a welco na here. Warren knew the weight it carried—the consequences of speaking it aloud. The Zacharia siblings had no shortage of enemies, even among their own blood. All because Nina had been obsessed with elevating the family na, no matter the cost.
But Warren had no choice. He had to say it.
The werewolves tensed, ready to strike at a mont’s notice. Behind him, his own guards mirrored their aggression, their hands twitching toward their weapons.
Warren exhaled sharply and raised a hand, signaling his n to stand down. "We’re not here to fight," he said firmly.
Morgan scoffed. The way Warren said it—calm, asured—made it sound like he was backing down for their sake, not out of fear or weakness. And that only made it worse.
"A Zacharia showing up here only ans one thing," Morgan growled, eyes burning with challenge. "A fight. So get back into position. We’re going until the end—I won’t let you lot run like your predecessor."
Her claws extended, as did those of the other werewolves around her. They were ready to rip the shaless Zacharia and his guards apart—a long-overdue reckoning for the destruction they had caused.
Technically, the worst of it had co from Riona, who had burned their village to the ground, but that didn’t make Warren any less of a target.
Morgan expected him to react, to brace himself, to et her challenge with steel. She had declared war, after all. But Warren didn’t flinch. Instead, he simply clasped his hands behind his back, utterly composed.
"I apologize for the terror my sister caused," he said evenly.
Trudy barked out a laugh—sharp, scornful. "Terror? Don’t make laugh! We were never afraid of you!"
She wasn’t. But she couldn’t say the sa for everyone in the pack. Because the truth was, when the Zacharia army raided their village, so had cowered. So still did.
Warren stared at her with sothing that looked dangerously close to pity. Trudy’s rage flared. She was about to lunge, ready to strike first, when he spoke.
"I’m here at my nephew’s request."
The words stopped everyone cold. A stunned silence settled over them, the pack holding their breath, straining to hear every word—because surely, they had misheard.
Warren continued, his voice steady. "Thorin sent a ssage. He needs help."
Charna scoffed. Thorin? Asking for help? Those two words didn’t belong in the sa sentence. If the situation weren’t so tense, she might’ve laughed outright.
"I get it," Warren said, unfazed by their skepticism. "I wouldn’t believe it either if I were you. But it’s the truth."
He slid a hand into his pocket, and at once, the Wintertooth wolves tensed, muscles coiling, claws itching for a reason to strike. But Warren moved deliberately—no sudden gestures, no tricks. Slowly, he pulled out a folded piece of paper.
Without a word, he held it out to the nearest person. Charna.
Charna took the paper and scanned its contents. Then, she grimaced. It was short, but there was no mistaking it—this was Thorin’s handwriting. She knew it well, having served as Chief of Wintertooth for as long as she had been part of the pack.
"He’s heading to Asvaldur," she said, her voice tight. "He claims the vampire emperor is holding Riona’s brother captive."
She hesitated, the weight of the next words pressing down on her. Saying them out loud would make them real. But she forced herself to continue.
"The boy has a dangerous demon inside him... and the emperor plans to use it to destroy the world."
A heavy silence followed. The implication hung thick in the air.
Warren gave a slow nod. "That vampire emperor isn’t soone to underestimate," he said grimly. "He wiped out my entire family. Single-handedly."
He let the words sink in, his gaze sweeping over the werewolves.
"This isn’t just any vampire. He’s unhinged. And now, there’s a demon involved—a real one. You have no idea what could happen if those two forces combine."
Charna knew it had to be sothing of this scale for Thorin to swallow his pride and ask for help. She lowered her gaze, deep in thought. This was because of Riona—there was no doubt. When Lady Maris had co here, she had spoken of Riona, calling her the key to everything.
"They must really need us," Charna murmured. If it ant protecting Riona, Thorin would go to any lengths. He would even kneel if it ca to that.
Her decision was made. "We have to help them."
Trudy’s expression shifted imdiately. She had never doubted Charna’s judgnt. If Charna said they were going, then Trudy wouldn’t question it. The real problem lay with the rest of the pack—especially Morgan.
The Queen Thin Eyebrows longed for change, for sothing to break the monotony of their routine. But joining a war where her life was at stake? That was another matter entirely.
Besides, she still couldn’t wrap her head around the idea of Thorin asking for help—even with the letter staring her in the face.
"You could’ve forged that ssage. Anyone could," she snapped.
Warren didn’t even flinch. He simply gestured toward Charna. "You heard her. It’s your Alpha’s handwriting. I wouldn’t know how to fake it—I’ve never even seen it before. We’re not exactly penpals."
Morgan had no coback. Because he was right.
The truth was, she was scared. But there was no way in hell she’d ever admit it.
Charna clapped her hands, commanding the attention of every werewolf present. She might not have Thorin’s diplomatic finesse, but she didn’t need it. She was respected, and more importantly, she was heard.
"I won’t force anyone to follow ," she said, her voice firm. "I know this fight doesn’t concern our pack directly. But make no mistake—it will affect us. If the world burns, we burn with it. If this pack falls, we fall together."
She let that sink in before continuing.
"I refuse to stand by while everything we’ve built turns to ash—not when I have claws that can fight for my ho."
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