Knotted By The Three Feral Alphas

Chapter 88: Chapter 88: She’s Bleeding Men

The heavy doors groaned shut behind the last rider. The sound sealed us in, a barrier between us and the woman still marching south with murder in her veins.

I handed my reins to a stable hand and started toward the inner keep, Darius a solid shadow at my side. Every step closer to the royal wing tightened something in my chest.

Lila spotted me first. She burst from the nursery doors like a small storm, bare feet slapping stone. "Mama!" Her voice cracked with relief and leftover fear.

I dropped to one knee and caught her as she slammed into me. She buried her face in my neck, small arms locked tight enough to bruise. "You smell like smoke and blood. Did you break them?"

"Not all of them," I said against her hair. "But enough to make them think twice."

Thorne and Elara appeared in the doorway, held by two nurses. The moment they saw me their faces split open. Thorne squirmed free and toddled forward on stronger legs than I remembered, arms out. Elara followed right behind, her steps steadier, more determined.

I gathered all three at once, sinking down onto the cold floor of the corridor without caring who watched. Their combined weight, their scents of milk and clean wool and sleep, nearly undid me.

Darius knelt beside us. Thorne immediately reached for him, babbling a string of half-words that sounded suspiciously like "Papa fight."

Elara patted my stitched side with gentle curiosity, as if she could sense the wound beneath the cloth. Lila refused to let go of my neck, whispering fierce promises about guarding her brother and sister while I was gone.

For long minutes the world narrowed to the four of us tangled on the floor. Darius’s hand rested on my back, warm and steady. The bond hummed between us, carrying his quiet relief and the same bone-deep need I felt to hold what mattered.

These small bodies had become the center of everything. Every mile, every death, every hard choice had led here.

Eventually I rose, lifting Elara while Darius took Thorne. Lila clung to my leg as we walked deeper into the royal chambers. Garrick had prepared everything. Hot water waited, fresh clothes, food that actually smelled like home instead of trail rations.

I bathed quickly, wincing as the water stung new and old cuts, then joined the children on the wide bed. They crawled over me like pups, demanding stories in their limited words and gestures.

I gave them pieces. The river that ran red. The bridge that held. How their fathers fought like winter and storm and wildfire. Lila listened with fierce attention. Thorne clapped at the exciting parts. Elara simply pressed closer, content to feel me breathing.

Darius watched from the doorway until the children finally drifted toward sleep. When their breathing evened out, he crossed the room and pulled me up against him. His kiss tasted of salt and smoke and the long road behind us.

We didn’t speak. Words weren’t needed. The bond said everything, carrying the fear we refused to name and the promise we had already made.

Later, after the children were settled with extra guards, we met Garrick in the war room. Maps covered the main table. Markers showed the northern force’s slowed progress. Six days until the alignment. Maybe less if she pushed harder.

"She’ll come straight for the keep now," I said, tracing the most direct route. "No more caution. She needs the children under the right stars. We make the approach hell for her."

Garrick nodded. "The walls are reinforced. Stores are full. Every fighter who can stand is ready. The women have been drilling twice daily."

Darius placed markers for defensive positions. "We let them exhaust themselves on the outer defenses, then hit them from the flanks when they commit to the gates."

I studied the layout, mind turning through every possibility. "And if she tries magic again? That invisible force she used before?"

"Then we endure it," Darius answered. "Like we endured everything else. The bond held us together at the bridge. It will hold here."

The hours slipped away in planning. Messengers came and went with updates from Kane and Rylan’s harassment teams. They were bleeding the northern column effectively, costing them men and time. Good. Every delay brought us closer to home ground advantage.

Near midnight I returned to the nursery. The children slept in a pile, Lila curled protectively around her siblings even in dreams.

I stood there a long time, memorizing the rise and fall of their small chests. Six days. Maybe less. The woman marching toward us carried centuries of hatred and a ritual that demanded their blood.

I would meet her with something stronger.

Darius found me there again. He didn’t pull me away. Just stood at my back, arms around my waist, chin resting on my shoulder. We watched our children breathe together until the watch bell rang the next hour.

Tomorrow we would finish preparations. Arm every wall. Set every trap. Turn Frostfang into the last place the witch-blood heir would ever see.

I turned in his arms and kissed him once, hard and certain. No more running. No more measured retreats.

The north had brought death to our door.

We would answer with every ounce of life we possessed.

*****************

Dawn found me on the outer battlements with a cup of bitter herb tea gone cold in my hands. The keep buzzed beneath me like a stirred hive.

Smiths hammered without pause. Women carried baskets of arrows to the stockpiles. Older children ran messages between stations, their faces set with the seriousness they had learned too early.

I watched it all while the wind tugged at my braid and pressed the fresh bandage tighter against my side.

Garrick climbed the stairs to join me, his steps heavier than usual. "The outer villages are empty. Everyone’s behind the walls now. We’ve got mouths for three weeks if we stretch it."

"Stretch it to four," I said. "No one goes hungry while that woman breathes."

He gave a short nod and left me to my thoughts. Below in the main yard, Darius drilled a mixed group of fighters, his voice carrying clear and cold as he corrected stances and timing.

He caught my eye across the distance and held it for a beat. No smile. Just the steady promise that whatever came through those gates would meet him first.

I descended into the keep and made my way to the nursery. The children were awake and chaotic. Lila had fashioned a small shield from a wooden platter lid and was marching Thorne and Elara around the room in formation. When she saw me she stopped mid-step, eyes fierce.

"We’re ready too," she declared. "If they get inside, I hide them and I fight."

My throat tightened. I knelt and pulled all three close, letting their small hands pat my face and tug my clothes. Thorne pressed a sticky kiss to my cheek. Elara babbled excitedly about "big noise" and pointed toward the distant sound of hammers. They knew something was coming. Children always sense the shift in the air.

I spent the morning with them, showing Lila how to hold her balance better, letting Thorne and Elara climb over me until their laughter filled the room. For those hours the coming battle felt distant. Then a messenger arrived and the weight returned.

Kane and Rylan had struck another supply train successfully. Fewer mouths for the north. More time bought. But the witch-blood heir had sacrificed her rearguard to keep moving. She was coming faster than expected.

I left the children with heavy hearts and doubled guards, then joined Darius in the war room. Fresh maps covered the table. Red markers showed her approach. Six days had become five. ƒrēewebnoѵёl.cσm

"She’s bleeding men but not slowing enough," I said, tracing the route. "We need to break her momentum one last time before she reaches the plain."

Darius placed a marker for a narrow pass two days out. "Here. We hit them at dusk. Full commitment. Make it ugly enough that her own people start questioning her."

I studied the terrain. Risky. But everything now carried risk. "Do it. Take fifty of our best. I’ll hold the keep preparations."

He didn’t argue. We both understood the necessity. When he pulled me close before leaving, the kiss carried the raw edge of possible last times. I gripped the back of his neck and held on a moment longer than I should have.

"Bring yourself back to us," I whispered against his mouth.

"Always."

He rode out within the hour with a hardened column. I watched from the gates until they disappeared, then turned to the work that remained.

The walls needed one final strengthening. Every weak point reinforced. Women and older fighters drilled until their hands bled. I moved among them, adjusting grips, offering quiet corrections, reminding them what waited on the other side of failure.

Evening brought a quiet meal with Lila at my side. She ate with determined focus, occasionally glancing toward the empty seats where her fathers should be. "They’ll come back," she said, more statement than question.

"They will," I answered. "And when they do, we finish this together."