Chapter 24 Message from the council
Dagnoth’s POV
The moonlight poured through the arched windows of the war chamber, silver streaks cutting across the polished stone floor. The air was cold and heavy, the kind of silence that held a thousand unsaid thoughts. I stood there long after everyone else had gone, hands braced against the edge of the table, papers scattered before me in no particular order. Reports, council summons, requests for border reinforcements.
None of it made sense anymore. None of it mattered.
Because all I could think of was her.
Dahlia.
The name had become a curse on my tongue, one that burned every time I tried to speak it. The more I tried to forget her, the more she found her way back into my mind. Her scent lingered in my chambers, that soft mix of lavender and forest dew that clung to the air long after she left. Even now, it was there, faint but powerful enough to make my chest ache.
Simone cleared his throat behind me, breaking the heavy silence.
“You have been staring at those parchments for an hour, my King,” he said cautiously. “Not one of them has been signed.”
“I do not remember asking for a report on how long I stare at things,” I muttered. My voice sounded low and rough, almost foreign to my own ears.
Simone sighed, the sound heavy with worry. “I am not here to test your patience, Dagnoth. I came to remind you the Council’s hearing is in two days. And that maybe, you should get your mind off a certain wolf.”
I turned to him slowly, letting my eyes find his. “Careful, Simone.”
He did not flinch. “You have not been yourself since that meeting. You barely eat. You train until sunrise. You have stopped speaking to the Queen. And the guards said you were seen standing outside her quarters. Hers, not the Queen’s. Do you want to tell me I am wrong?”
My jaw tightened, and I said nothing. Because he was right.
Simone’s tone softened a little. “Is she really that important?”
The question pierced through me like a blade. I hated the way it felt because I did not have an answer.
“She is not important,” I said finally. “She is a complication. One that should not exist.”
A low growl echoed inside me. My wolf stirred, restless and strong.
You lie.
I shut my eyes, trying to silence him. Not now.
“She is just a wolf,” I said again quietly. “A wolf who got caught in something far beyond her control.”
She is more than that. My wolf’s voice was deeper this time, persistent and defiant.
You know her. You have always known her.
My fists clenched until my knuckles cracked. “Enough,” I said under my breath.
Simone looked confused, maybe even a little concerned. “Are you speaking to me or the beast in your head?”
I did not bother to answer. I turned away, staring out the wide archway where the courtyard stretched below. The torches flickered in the night breeze, casting orange light on the wet stone. The air smelled of coming rain. It was going to storm soon.
“Dismissed,” I said quietly.
He hesitated for a heartbeat, then bowed and left the room. The doors closed behind him, sealing me inside my silence once more.
I pressed a hand to my temple, trying to drown out the noise in my mind. It was useless. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her.
The way she looked that morning, her hair loosely braided, the sunlight catching the golden tones of her skin as she bent to tie her daughter’s shoes. She had smiled at the child, soft, tired, and full of warmth. For a split second, I had wanted to step into that world. I had wanted to be part of that picture, even though I knew I could never belong there.
The thought alone was enough to make me curse under my breath.
I left the chamber. My boots echoed on the stone floor as I moved through the corridor. The guards bowed when I passed, but I hardly noticed them. I did not know where I was going until I realized I had been following the faint trace of her scent.
It led me to her quarters.
The light inside was soft and golden, spilling through the small gap of the door. I stopped just outside, unseen. The sound of quiet laughter drifted through the space.
Inside, Dahlia sat cross-legged on the floor between her children. The little ones, Liam and Lily, were both drawing on scraps of parchment, their voices full of life as they argued playfully about whose drawing was better.
My chest tightened at the sound.
Daddy. They were calling someone daddy.
That word hit deeper than I wanted to admit. That was not me. It was not supposed to be me. Yet standing there, watching them, something unsteady began to rise inside me.
She smiled when the little girl handed her a crooked drawing of a flower. “It is beautiful, Lily,” she said softly. “You are getting better every day.”
“And mine?” the boy asked proudly, holding up a drawing of a sword.
She laughed, the sound bright and genuine. “Yours too, my little warrior.”
That laugh. I had not realized how much I missed it until I heard it again. It sounded like sunlight after endless storms, something pure and healing in a world full of darkness.
I leaned against the doorframe, fighting the pull in my chest. She should not affect me this way. She should not make me feel like I was still capable of being human.
She is ours, my wolf whispered again. The gods marked her for you.
I did not want to believe it. I could not.
“She is the daughter of the Silver Moon pack,” I said quietly to myself. “The same bloodline I was born to destroy.”
My wolf growled in defiance.
The same bloodline that saved you.
My heartbeat grew louder. I took a step forward, then stopped. If I went in there, if she looked at me with those eyes again, I would not stop myself. And I could not afford that, not now.
So I turned and walked away. Her voice followed me down the hallway.
“Time for bed, my loves. Say your prayers.”
I paused for a second. Her humming began softly, a tune that wrapped itself around me like a memory I could not escape. I did not realize my claws had extended until I saw blood drip onto the floor from my palm.
By the time I reached my chamber, the storm had broken. Rain hammered the windows, wind howling through the night like restless wolves calling to their lost kind.
I poured myself a drink. It was strong, bitter, and almost tasteless. It did nothing to quiet the chaos inside me.
I stared at my reflection in the glass, seeing a man who looked nothing like a king, nothing like the monster he once accepted himself to be. I looked like someone haunted.
“I am losing my mind,” I muttered.
No, my wolf replied, his voice dark and calm. You are losing control.
The knock came before I could respond. Loud. Urgent.
“Enter,” I said coldly.
Simone stepped inside, rain clinging to his cloak. His face was grave. “A letter, my King,” he said. “From the High Council.”
I broke the seal and read. My pulse slowed as my eyes moved across the words.
Kael.
That bastard had done it.
He had filed a formal accusation against me, claiming I attacked him before witnesses. The Council was calling me to answer under oath. And they had named her as a witness.
Dahlia.
The parchment slipped from my fingers.
Simone caught it and looked at me carefully. “He wants to drag her into this,” he said. “He knows what that will do to you.”
“I will kill him before I let that happen,” I said quietly.
“I am fire,” I replied. “And Kael just set himself in the middle of it.”
When he left, I stood alone once more. Rain thundered against the glass, and the world outside seemed to burn with lightning. I looked down at the letter again, her name written beside mine.
Fate had tied us together once more. No matter how hard I tried to cut the strings, it pulled us back into the same storm.
And for the first time in years, I was afraid. Not of the Council. Definitely not of Kael. But of what I might do if anyone dared to take her away from me again.