The Council didn't disperse. It rearranged itself. The bonfire threw a spark into the sky, as if it wanted to join the conversation.
"They want to frighten us," said the white-haired man. "Or test us."
"Or announce that he's coming to claim what he believes is his," added the young man.
Everyone looked at Kael. He, for the first time since I'd met him, smiled. It wasn't a toothy grin. It was a brief smile that showed not joy, but resolve.
"Good. At noon we'll register the request for protection. By sunset, if they haven't crossed, we'll send a delegation. If they cross before then, I'll receive them at the stone."
The stone was the place of oaths and truths that admit no nuance. There, one speaks the truth.
"Lía," Kael turned to me. "I won't ask you to be at the stone if he comes. But if you want, you can."
My mouth went dry.
"I want to."
It wasn't that I wanted to see his face. Or hear that unbearable laugh again. It was that I had spent too many hours of my life in silence. And the stone didn't forgive silence.
"Then I'll prepare you," Kael said.
We left the circle. The camp had changed: guards in high positions, corridors, women carrying children to safety. No one shouted. No one disturbed the morning. The sun barely illuminated the rooftops.
"What will you do if he says he rescued you after your parents died?" Kael asked, now on the path, without looking at me, as if speaking to thin air.
"I'll say he locked me in a kitchen. That he took my name. That he used me as an example."
"Now. What will you do if he cites the custom of receiving alpha blood as an honor?"
"I'll ask where that honor was when he beat me. Where it was when he forbade me from training."
Kael turned his head once.
"What if he challenges me to a duel for you?"
"I'll ask if he recognizes me. If he sees me. If not, he has no claim."
"Good," he said. He stopped abruptly and looked at me. "What if he begs for forgiveness in exchange for letting you return in peace?"
My wolf laughed, truly. A laugh that bared my teeth and tongue.
"I'll tell him that peace doesn't live in a kitchen, but in a clean bed and an open window, in freedom."
The sun climbed higher in the sky. The camp smelled of flour and tempered metal. Mikel approached with a wide leather strap.
"So you don't strain your arm."
He helped me put it on.
At noon, the stone burned. Irene read aloud my name, the time, and the place of the shelter.
Everyone signed with their symbols. I left my mark with my good hand.
As evening fell, the first howl drew near. Mikel clenched his jaw. Eidan spat to the side. Ares swallowed and held his ground.
"They're coming," someone said.
I saw them before I smelled them. They positioned themselves along the line of trees, black and ochre. Argon stood in the center, tall with a broad back, smiling. I recognized that curve; I'd dreamt of it on my most sordid nights.
"Kael, they say you took something that belongs to me."
Kael took a step toward the stone. I stood to his left. The camp behind us. The forest, the stage, and my wolf with me.
"Sometimes," Kael replied, "you think you have something in your hands. And it turns out what you have is proof of your shame."
Argon laughed humorlessly.
"Give it back, King. And perhaps I'll forget your audacity."
Kael didn't look at me; there was no need.
"You speak of her as if she were an object," he retorted. "But here, people look each other in the eye. Lia."
My name, the stone beneath my feet. My wolf's laughter.
"I am not yours. And I never was."
The forest fell silent.
Argon's smile vanished.
"Then let's speak in the language you understand."
He unbuttoned his cloak and let it fall. His eyes parted, hungry for a show. Ours remained motionless.
Kael lowered his hands to his sides. He didn't assume a fighting stance. He assumed an oath-taking stance.
"On the stone," he declared.
And the world stopped.
The circle closed.
Argon offered a half-smile.
"According to the law, an Alpha can claim what he raised under his roof."
The stone trembled. I hadn't expected it; a warmth crept up my heels.
The Council woman stepped forward.
"According to the law, a claim without acknowledgment is worthless. Here, we speak the truth."
Kael bowed his head without leaving my side.
The air shifted. Like when a storm is brewing. The stone at my feet grew warm.
"Call witnesses," the woman requested.
"Me," I said without thinking.
Argon chuckled briefly.
"The girl who doesn't scream. Come forward, child."
I stepped a little further into the circle.
"Name."
"Lía, daughter of Helena and Íñigo, Luna and Alpha of the Valley."
There was a hushed murmur. Argon stopped playing with his cloak. "Do you recognize Argon as the one who gave you shelter, care, and honor?" the woman asked, using the ancient formula.
"He gave me work in the kitchen. He gave me the floor to sleep on." He took my name and struck me.
The stone beneath my feet ignited in approval.
"I do not acknowledge it as an honor. I do not acknowledge it as a caretaker. I do not acknowledge it as anything of mine."
Argon leaned forward, his eyes cold.
"I picked her up when she was bleeding," he replied. "I saved her life."
The stone threw off a spark. The entire Council looked at their feet, and I knew they felt it too.
"It's an incomplete truth," said the white-haired man. "Go on."
"You picked me up," I nodded, "and locked me up. You didn't train me. You used me so no one would forget that your hand was the only one in charge. If I'm alive today, it's because I ran."
My wolf tore through the silence with a short, proud breath.
Argon wouldn't give up, he wasn't willing to leave without Lia, and so he challenged Kael.
"Enough of this theater," Argon growled. "Come, King. Let's speak in another language."
"Not yet," the woman with black eyes interjected. "The question that decides the claims is still missing."
She turned to me.
"Do you see?"
I didn't look at Argon. I looked at Kael. He was a step away. He wasn't touching me. He didn't need me.
I looked back at the woman.
"I don't see a partner in him," I said, referring to Argon. "I see danger. I see lies."
"Fine," the woman said. "There's no right to claim based on the bond."
Argon smiled again, without showing his teeth.
"There's still the other one," he said. "The old one."
Kael took a step. And the forest supported him.
"I accept," he replied. "On the stone. If one of us surrenders, the other cannot kill him. Whatever happens in the duel, neither of us can lay a hand on Lia."
Argon raised an eyebrow.
"Are you afraid of getting your hands dirty?"
"I fear the custom of calling carnage victory," Kael said. "The fight must be clean and honorable."
The Council nodded in unison.
"So be it," the woman said. "You exchange places. Without using swords, daggers, or any other forged weapon. Without teeth in the throat."
Mikel took my elbow with the respect of someone asking permission and led me outside. Eidan and Ares stood behind me.
Argon took off his shirt. Kael ripped his open.
They both placed their right palms on the stone.
"I swear," Kael said.
"I swear," Argon repeated.
The first clash wasn't spectacular. It was sharp. Shoulder to shoulder, weight to weight. Argon pushed, trying to unbalance him. Kael took a half step and twisted his hip, deflecting the force.
Second clash. Argon threw a punch to the ribs. Kael lowered his forearm, blocked, and responded with a clean heel strike to the calf. No claws. No fangs.
"Breathe, King," Argon spat. "You'll need it."
My wolf bristled inside me. I wanted to advance. Ares barely grazed my shoulder with his knuckles, reminding me where I was.
Third clash. Argon changed his rhythm, quickly, a punch above and a sweep below. Kael fell to his knees and smiled. He caught the wrist that was coming for his face, twisted it, and Argon landed with his mouth on the stone with a thud.
The circle didn't applaud. The stone did.
Argon reared up with a growl and, for a heartbeat, bared his claws. Cursing under his breath.
"No claws," the woman reminded him.
Fourth clash. Kael advanced this time: he took two steps, one short and one long, and pushed him. Argon stumbled back three times. The edge of the circle stopped him. He looked at us. He looked at me. He smiled with his eyes.
"Surrender," Kael said, without hatred. "And I'll let you go back to your kind."
"I wasn't born to give in. I was born to reclaim."
"Reclaim dignity," Kael said.
Argon broke the rhythm and went in low, straight for the waist. Kael had him on top of him for a couple of seconds. It was enough time for Argon to attempt a blow to the windpipe. The stone burned. The blow stopped a millimeter short without anyone touching it.
"You've been warned," said the white-haired man.
Argon roared. Kael took the roar as a signal, freeing himself with a hip twist and a precise shove. Argon stumbled. Kael didn't follow through. He waited.
"Enough," said the woman. "Either you give in, or you'll break."
Argon wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. There was blood. He grinned, showing his teeth.
"I won't give in."
"Then listen," I interjected without asking permission. "If you fall, I'll see you. I'll remember you, fallen, defeated."
Argon looked at me as if he were seeing me for the first time. He didn't like it.
"King," he growled. "Last time."
Fifth clash. This time, Kael didn't wait. He entered with a twist and a shoulder lock that turned Argon's body into a lever against itself. It was clean. And that was the end.
Argon fell backward. Kael followed and pinned him down, placing his weight on precise points.
"Yield," Kael demanded, taking a deep breath.
Argon looked at his men. He searched for looks of humiliation among ours and found none.
"I yield," he said almost inaudibly.
We all took a deep breath.
Kael stepped back immediately and helped him to his feet. Argon half-heartedly accepted his hand, rage clenched behind his teeth. He didn't look at the Council. He looked at me.
"You haven't won," he murmured, just enough for those very close to me to hear. "The wolves remember. So do I."
"They remember the truth. And today it spoke."
Argon gestured to his men. They retreated as they had come: black against ochre, their shadows dissolving among the tree trunks. Only when the last one was lost did the woman speak.
"It is recorded. Protection granted. Claim denied. Duel concluded. The border is warned."
Mikel exhaled through his nose. Eidan's shoulders slumped. Ares ran a hand through his hair, relieved.
Kael turned to me.
"Are you alright?"
"Yes," I said, and my wolf, behind me, added a short, happy howl.
"I want to say something," I asked.
The Council nodded. Kael did too.
I stepped into the center.
"My name is Lia, daughter of Helena and Íñigo. I am one of those who see. And today I saw again."
A silence fell. And then, a murmur that wasn't from people: leaves, branches, earth, wind. As if the land accepted me.
Kael smiled for the second time that day.
"Come. There's bread."
I laughed involuntarily. My body was craving rest and soup.
We moved away from the circle. Halfway there, a strange smell cut through the air: old iron, smoke. Kael stopped. Mikel raised his head like a dog. The forest tensed.
"Do you smell it?" I whispered.
Kael nodded.
"Yes," he said. "This isn't over."
And the night revealed what was to come.
The smoke was strange; it wasn't the smoke from a chimney, a hearth, a celebration. It was a smoke that tried to resemble something else. Behind the rancid, irony note, there was something else that stung the eyes: oil, black resin, and something sweet.
"This border," Mikel said, already moving.
Eidan and Ares spread out as if they had been born in the forest. Kael looked at me; that was enough.
"I'm staying with you," he said, without questioning it.
"I don't want to be a burden."
"I know, that's why you're staying with me."
We moved forward without following any path, guided by instinct and reading the roots. The smoke drew closer. With each step, the old iron became more present.
"Silver," Eidan murmured from above, on the branch. "I smell worked silver."
My wolf bared his teeth. The forest fell silent: the insects stopped, the wind died down, and even the moon grew paler.
"Watch out for the ground," Mikel warned. "Claw traps."
He didn't explain. There was no need. Two steps later, Kael's light revealed the first claw: a buried claw, curved teeth, taut springs, and in the center, a central tooth that gleamed differently.
"Silver on the rivet," Kael pointed out, bending down without touching it.
"That's human," Ares spat, annoyed and scared at the same time.
"Or wolves who learned to buy like humans," Mikel corrected.
I knelt carefully, my splinted arm pressed close to my body. There was disturbed earth around the trap, as if it had been set hastily. To one side, a mark in the mud: three vertical lines and a crescent moon crossed by a nail.
My throat made a noise.
"That's it, I saw it."
Kael looked at me, waiting for me to finish explaining.
"Where?"
"In the kitchen. In the drawer where they kept the meat hooks. The night my parents were killed, there was one of those drawings in soot on the pantry wall."
We were silent.
"Black Iron," Kael murmured. "They're not a pack. They're buyers. They do the dirty work for whoever pays them."
"Argon?" Ares asked, almost wishing for it; a known enemy was better.
Kael shook his head.
"Argon risked his pride on the stone tonight," he said. "And even if he were capable of going that far, he wouldn't set traps with silver here. He knows what that means."
"So," Eidan clenched his jaw, "someone wants it to look like Argon. Or for us to think it's just anyone." And while they distract us, they attack from behind.
The smoke was coming from a small clearing. A low shadow. It wasn't a blazing fire, but embers meant to ward them off. A pile of damp leaves, green logs, and on top of them, pieces of leather and a hemp rope that smelled of tar.
"Masked fire," Mikel said.
"To break the trail," Kael added.
My wolf was alert, not so much to the fire, but to the strange silence to my left. I turned without thinking. My body led me before my head.
"There," I said.
There was a second, smaller trap, hidden under the leaves. And a meter away, a shape. It wasn't human. It wasn't a wolf. It was a large, domestic dog, with a thick leather collar and a blank tag. The trap was biting its paw. It was trembling silently.
My chest tightened.
"Stay still," I whispered. I lowered my good hand. The dog sniffed me and didn't growl. His eyes locked onto mine as if he were trying to tell me something.
"Don't touch it," Mikel said. "If that tip has silver on it, it'll burn you."
"The silver didn't touch me. It touched him."
Kael was already beside me, crouching down. He took a thick cloth from his boot and folded it four times. He placed the cloth on the clamp and, using his body weight, opened it just enough. Mikel placed a wooden stake on the hinge so it wouldn't slam shut. Eidan held the dog's ankle with two fingers and pulled him out. It was all clean and quick. The dog whined only once. Then he licked his paw.
"This isn't hunting," Kael said, looking at the collar. "It's a message."
"What message?" I asked.
"That they can come in. That they can make noise and still take us a while to find them." They want us to stop sleeping.
"They already succeeded."
The dog licked my wrist. Ares grinned toothlessly.
"We'll take care of him. I'll handle it."
"Take him to Irene," Kael ordered. "And have them store the trap, but unloaded. I want them to see it at the Council at dawn."
Ares left with the animal in his arms, clutching it to his chest.
"There's more," Eidan said, pointing to metal in the mud.
"Should I take them out?" Mikel offered.
"No," Kael said. "We'll mark them and post guards. If they come looking for them, I want to see their faces."
The sweet ember in the smoke stung my nose again. I looked at the smoldering pile of leaves.
"There's something underneath. Something they don't want us to see."
Kael dug his boot in and kicked the pile aside. The smoke rose and stung my eyes. Mikel coughed. Eidan cursed. When the smoke cleared, I saw it. A metal box, with holes in the lid and runes engraved on the sides. Silver rivets. A red thread around the edge.
"What is it?" I asked.
Mikel didn't answer. Neither did Kael. They looked at me. The answer was within me, not them. And I knew it...
"It's a scent mask," I said, remembering something I'd heard. "They want to distort a trail or plant one by force."
Kael carefully lifted it, using the cloth. He brought it to his nose without inhaling.
"Ivy, ash, resin, wisps of... wolf fur..." he lowered his voice.
My breath caught in my throat for a second.
"Do they want to erase our clues... or erase their own scent?" Eidan asked.
"Both," Kael replied. "And they want us to know that they know."
The box had a seal in the shape of three lines and a crescent moon through it. The same as the clay. The same as the drawer of hooks.
My wolf was restless and angry.
"And why now?" I asked. "Why tonight?"
"Because I introduced you to me today," Kael said bluntly. Because when a name is spoken aloud, the people who make their living by tying it up get nervous.
I didn't know whether to be grateful or curse. The smoke dissipated. The breeze returned. The forest, little by little, was returning to normal.
"We're going back to this," Kael decided. "And we're posting guards in the trees. No one sets foot in the clearing until further notice."