Chapter 76: Seventy Six : Blood On walls

Ronald's POV

By dawn, the blood had dried into the stone. The sigil looked almost harmless now, just another mark in a fortress built on too many ghosts. But I could still smell it. Iron, fear, warning.

Mara stood at my side, arms crossed, eyes sharp as blades. She hadn’t said a word since we found it. The symbol, her family’s crest, had been carved outside her door. In blood.

Behind us, Elder Korrin knelt, muttering under his breath as he traced the symbol’s outline. His fingers trembled, old and bony, but his voice carried enough weight to make the gathered guards shrink back.

“It’s not a message,” he rasped. “It’s a curse mark. A claim.”

Mara’s wolf stirred. I could feel it through the bond, her fury pressed tight against her skin. “Claim?” she spat. “By who?”

Korrin shook his head. “Silverfang blood calls to its own. Whoever carved this meant to bind you, to your past, or to your death.”

I stepped forward, ignoring the way the air around the mark seemed to hum. “Enough of your superstitions. Someone did this to scare her.”

Korrin looked up, his pale eyes cold. “Or to summon her.”

Mara stiffened beside me.

I turned to the guards. “Erase it. Every trace.”

They hesitated, no one wanted to touch it, but my growl snapped them into motion. As they worked, I caught the flicker of eyes between my men. They didn’t trust her. They didn’t trust me.

And maybe, for the first time, I didn’t blame them.

When I finally dismissed them, I found myself staring at the empty wall long after it was clean. The air still felt heavy, like something unseen lingered.

Lucas joined me, arms folded, face drawn tight with worry. “You believe the elders?”

“I believe someone inside these walls wants her dead,” I said.

He nodded grimly. “You think it’s one of ours?”

I didn’t answer. But I didn’t have to. He knew.

Every councilor had a motive. Some feared what Mara represented. Others feared losing control if she survived the trial. And then there were those who feared the truth that the prophecy the assassin mentioned wasn’t a lie.

“The Blood Moon reveals all.” The words had haunted me since that night.

I could still see the assassin’s eyes before he died, bright, almost fevered, as he gasped the warning. She must not survive it.

But why?

Was it because she was Silverfang? Because her blood carried something ancient, something the Council didn’t want reborn?

Or because she was the one thing I wasn’t supposed to love?

Lucas’s voice broke through my thoughts. “Ronald, you can’t protect her if your pack starts doubting you. The elders are already whispering that she’s cursed.”

I turned sharply. “Let them whisper. I don’t bow to superstition.”

“Maybe not. But they do.”

He was right. The walls had ears here and sharper teeth than most wolves.

That night, I called a closed meeting with my council. Only five of the seven arrived. The two missing were the ones I trusted least. Convenient.

“We’re days from the trial,” I began. “I want the guards doubled around Mara’s quarters. No one goes near her without my order.”

Elder Renn arched his brow. “You treat her like a queen, yet she’s the one accused of treachery.”

I met her gaze. “And she’ll stand trial as such. But until then, she’s under my protection.”

“Protection,” she echoed softly. “Or possession?”

The low growl rumbling in my chest silenced the murmurs around the table. “Careful.”

Renn only smiled, all teeth and venom. “Careful is for the weak.”

After that, the meeting dissolved into quiet hostility. Every question felt like a test, every glance a threat. By the time I left the chamber, I could feel the cracks forming in my leadership.

The Council didn’t just want Mara gone, they wanted me divided.

When I returned to my office, Lucas was waiting. He closed the door behind me, his expression unreadable. “You’re losing them,” he said quietly.

“I know.”

“And you’re still choosing her.”

“Yes.”

He didn’t look surprised. Just sad. “You always were terrible at choosing the easy path.”

I leaned against the desk, rubbing a hand over my face. “Lucas, if they kill her… everything ends. The prophecy, the curse, none of it matters. She’s the key, I can feel it.”

“Or she’s the reason the curse exists,” he countered.

I looked up sharply. “You sound like them.”

He shook his head. “I sound like someone who doesn’t want to bury his Alpha because he let love blind him.”

The words stung more than I wanted to admit. But I didn’t argue. I couldn’t.

Because when I closed my eyes, all I saw was Mara’s face the night she whispered, I came here for vengeance, not salvation.

And I knew then that I feared her death more than my own.

I opened my mouth to speak, but the sound of beating wings cut me off.

A raven slammed into the window, black feathers scattering against the glass. Its claws scratched until I unlatched it. A scroll was tied to its leg, sealed with crimson wax.

Lucas untied it, scanning the message before handing it to me. His face went pale.

I read it once. Twice. Then again, just to make sure I wasn’t seeing things.

Deliver her bound before the Blood Moon. Or your pack burns.

The wax bore a mark I hadn’t seen in years, the emblem of the High Council.

My blood ran cold.

Lucas swore under his breath. “They’ve made their move.”

Not a move but a declaration.

The Council’s game had begun.

And the stakes were no longer politics or prophecy.

They were surviving.