The Wolf's Queen Vows

Chapter 41: The Report

As everyone rose, Eirene leaned back in her seat, smiling. A small, smug smile said she had achieved exactly what she wanted. Aveloria caught it as she turned to leave. Their eyes met briefly, and Aveloria’s jaw clenched. She didn’t speak, but her thoughts were clear, and whatever web Eirene was spinning would burn soon.

After the council meeting ended, Aveloria stood by her window that night, watching the guards change shifts below. She was still wearing her formal gown from the meeting, and her hair was loosened now.

The crimson moon from the night before was gone, but its presence lingered in her mind. She couldn’t sleep. The thought of mutilated bodies and burned sigils haunted her. She needed to see it for herself.

A knock came at her door.

"Come in,"

It was Galen. He entered quietly, closing the door behind him. "You’re not going to wait till morning, are you?" freёwebnovel.com

"No. If the Wanderers are testing us, I want to know how close they’ve come." She said.

He nodded. "Then I’m coming with you."

"I know," she said, a faint trace of appreciation in her tone.

Within minutes, Aveloria changed into plain, dark clothing suitable for patrol work like Galen’s. She tucked her hair under a hood and strapped a dagger to her thigh. Galen checked the hilts of his blades, testing their weight.

When the guards at the main gate saw them, they didn’t question much. Aveloria had authority, and Galen was trusted. They moved silently through the outer gates and into the forest beyond.

The woods were quiet, too quiet. The air was cold and heavy, carrying the scent of old blood. The moonlight filtered through the branches, faint but enough to see the path ahead.

They walked side by side for nearly an hour, following the trace of the patrol route. Then Galen stopped suddenly and crouched low, sniffing the air.

"Blood," he said quietly.

Aveloria followed his gaze toward a dark patch on the ground. The soil was stained deep red, and the scent was old but still sharp. They moved further, and that’s when they saw the tree with the burned sigil.

The mark was fresh, carved deep into the bark and then scorched. A crescent moon pierced by a claw. It wasn’t just a warning. It was a claim.

Aveloria reached out and touched the burned wood. It was still warm.

"They were here recently," she said.

Galen scanned the area, his hand on his sword. "They’re getting bolder. This is inside the border, not outside it."

She nodded. "They’re marking territory within ours."

He turned to her. "What do you want to do?"

Aveloria looked at the sigil again. Her chest tightened with anger. "They think they can hunt us in our own lands," she said quietly. "We’ve been reacting to their moves for too long. It’s time we take the fight to them."

"You’re declaring war?"

"I’m declaring defense," she said. "But if war is what they want, they’ll have it."

Galen stepped closer. "We should tell your father before we act."

"I will. But first, I must know how many we’re dealing with. This isn’t just random killings. This is a strategy." She said.

He nodded. "Then we’ll track them until dawn."

They moved deeper into the forest, discreetly marking their own trail. The night air grew colder, and every sound seemed louder, the crunch of leaves and whisper of branches.

At one point, they found more signs: broken twigs and faded footprints that didn’t belong to wolves. The Wanderers were human-shaped at times and beasts at others. Their scent was mixed: rot, smoke, and ash.

When they turned back toward the palace, the horizon was pale with early light. As they reached the outer gate, Aveloria stopped and looked back again at the forest. Her expression was firm, her body tense with resolve.

"This isn’t divine punishment," she said quietly, almost to herself. "This is someone testing our strength."

Galen followed her gaze. "Then they’ll soon find out what strength really means."

She didn’t answer. But in her eyes, there was no doubt, this wasn’t fear anymore. It was determination.

They walked back into the palace just as the guards began changing shifts.

When she returned to her chambers, Aveloria sat by the edge of her bed, looking down at her hands. They were stained with soil from the forest.

She thought again about the sigil, the bodies, and how Eirene smiled in court. Everything was connected; she could feel it. The Wanderers’ attack, Eirene’s manipulations, and the whispers in the palace were all part of the same tightening web.

But she was done being the prey. And for the first time, she wasn’t waiting for protection or permission. She was ready to fight back. And Aveloria swore, quietly but firmly, that before this was over, the Wanderers and anyone who stood with them would fall.

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

The morning light broke through the tall windows of the council chamber, falling across the long oak table where the King and his advisors gathered. The air was heavy, thick with unease.

The King, Alaric, sat at the head of the table, his expression stern but weary. His crown rested lightly on his head, yet the weight of responsibility was visible in the slump of his shoulders. Trovald stood to his right, speaking quietly with two generals. Eirene was already seated near the center of the table, dressed in deep blue robes. Her face was pale, her eyes darting toward Aveloria with curiosity and suppressed irritation.

As Aveloria and Galen approached the room, the murmurs died down.

"Your Majesty," Aveloria said, bowing slightly. "We’ve returned from the border with our findings."

Alaric nodded. "Speak."

Aveloria exchanged a glance with Galen before turning to the council. "We followed the tracks beyond the outer patrol route where the bodies were discovered. Beasts did not kill the wolves that died. Their wounds were precise, claw strikes, deep, deliberate. Whoever did it knew how to tear a wolf mid-transformation."

A wave of whispers went through the room. One of the council members, Elder Jareth, leaned forward. "You’re certain of this?"

"Yes, Galen confirmed, too. We both saw the signs clearly, " she replied.

Galen stepped forward, his tone measured. "There’s more. We found marks on several trees, symbols burned deep into the trunks. A crescent pierced by a claw. It’s the Wanderers’ sigil." freeweɓnøvel.com

That statement silenced the room completely. Chairs creaking and shifting filled the gap before another voice spoke.

"They are becoming bolder," one of the generals muttered. "The Wanderers shouldn’t cross into our territory."

"They have now," Galen said. "And they’ve done more than cross. They’ve marked our land. It’s a warning, or maybe a claim."

Alaric leaned back slowly, his eyes narrowing. "You’re certain it was the sigil?"

"Yes, Father," Aveloria said. "We both saw it with our own eyes. It wasn’t old either. The burns were fresh."

The chamber erupted into chatter. Some council members began arguing in low tones, others shaking their heads in disbelief.