The Wolf's Queen Vows

Chapter 45: The Night Patrol

The moon was bright enough to make the steel of Aveloria’s armor glint each time her horse shifted under her. The night air was cold. This was her first patrol outside the safety of the capital walls, the first time she rode not as the king’s daughter, but as the heir of Lycanthria, leading soldiers through dangerous lands.

The armor weighed more than she had expected. Every movement reminded her she wasn’t used to such gear. But she refused to show discomfort. She had insisted on this mission; she wouldn’t let anyone think she wasn’t capable.

Galen rode beside her, calm and steady, his wolf eyes constantly scanning the woods ahead. The soldiers followed behind them in a tight formation, twenty trained fighters, handpicked by Trovald himself. Their horses’ hooves barely made a sound on the forest path.

"You look different in armor," Galen said after a long silence. His voice was low but clear. "Not bad...just...different."

Aveloria glanced sideways at him, hiding a small smile. "Different how?"

He shrugged. "Less like the heiress everyone bows to. More like one of us. It suits you, though I never thought I’d see the day you’d be out here in full battle gear."

"It’s uncomfortable," she admitted, adjusting the strap near her shoulder. "But it won’t slow me down. I’ll get used to it."

Galen chuckled. "Of course you will."

She raised an eyebrow. "You sound surprised."

"I am a little," he said honestly. "You were always more the type to lead from strategy halls, giving orders and not riding through danger."

Aveloria looked ahead, eyes narrowing at the path that disappeared into shadow. "And that’s exactly why I need to be here. I can’t rule from walls while others bleed for my decisions. My mother never did that."

He glanced at her. "You think of her often?"

"Every day," Aveloria said quietly. "She ruled with love and fairness. She listened to everyone, even the servants and guards. She used to say a ruler isn’t a crown or a title, but a guardian of her people. That’s how I want to be."

Galen’s lips curved into a small smile. "You’ll be better than she was."

Aveloria shook her head. "No. I’ll try to be like her. That’s enough."

He looked proud. "Then I’ll be by your side, helping you rule. We’ll make Lycanthria stronger than ever. You as Queen, me as your Beta and mate, the best pair this kingdom has ever had."

Her chest tightened, not from emotion she could name, but from the weight of his sincerity. She looked away, pretending to scan the treeline. "You make it sound easy."

"It won’t be, but it’ll be worth it." He said.

They rode silently for a few minutes, the forest quiet except for the occasional hoot of an owl or the rustle of leaves. The cold breeze carried a faint smell, not blood, but something close.

Aveloria broke the silence again. "You’ve fought the Wanderers before, haven’t you?"

"Yes," Galen said. "Twice. The first time was just after I claimed my wolf, I was assigned to go on a patrol. They ambushed a border camp near the eastern marsh. We almost lost two men that night."

She looked at him. "And the second time?"

He hesitated. "A mission near the southern woods. We found a small pack of them hiding among the villagers. We thought they were refugees until one of them turned mid-fight. They’re fast, vicious, and unpredictable. They don’t fight like wolves or humans. They fight like something that’s forgotten what it means to be either."

Aveloria’s expression hardened. "I’ve read the reports, but reading isn’t the same as seeing."

"No, it isn’t," he said. "But I’ll be here. You don’t need to worry about them."

She looked at him again, this time not as a commander or a heiress, but as someone who trusted him completely. "I know. I feel safer with you here."

He didn’t answer, but the small smile that touched his face said enough.

They continued forward, deeper into the forest. The moonlight dimmed under the canopy of tall tree branches, and the smell of rot grew stronger. The air became still, unnaturally so. Even the insects had gone quiet.

Galen raised a hand, signaling the group to slow. "Do you smell that?"

Aveloria nodded. "Decay."

They dismounted. The soldiers followed quietly, spreading out but staying close enough to form a defensive line. Aveloria drew her sword. The ground was soft with wet leaves. Each step made a dull squelch. The stench got worse the farther they went. Then they reached a clearing and everyone froze.

The trees around the open space were scarred with deep claw marks, thick as fingers and long as a man’s forearm. Some were fresh, sap still dripping down the bark. In the center of the clearing lay a body, or what used to be one.

It was half-shifted, caught between wolf and human form. The skin was torn where fur should have completed the change. One arm was missing, and the ribs were exposed. The corpse twitched once, as if the nerves hadn’t realized it was dead. ƒreewebηoveℓ.com

A young soldier gagged and turned away.

Galen crouched beside the body, his face expressionless. "It’s recent. Within the hour."

Aveloria forced herself to look closer. "Do you think it’s one of ours?"

He shook his head. "No insignia. Could be a rogue. But look here—" He pointed to the edges of the wounds. "These aren’t from a blade. They’re from teeth and claws. Wanderers did this."

She swallowed hard. "So they’re near."

"Yes," he said, rising. "Too near."

The smell grew thicker, almost choking. Then came the sound, low, guttural growls echoing from the dark beyond the trees.

The soldiers instantly moved into formation, forming a half-circle around Aveloria and Galen. Swords and spears were drawn. Horses whined quietly, restless.

"They’re surrounding us," Galen said, his voice calm but sharp.

Aveloria felt her wolf stir under her skin, the instinctive urge to shift clawing at her control. She gripped the hilt of her sword tighter.

"Stay calm," she said, her voice steady. "They want us to panic."

The growls grew louder, overlapping until they sounded like one collective snarl. The shadows moved between the trees, fast and blurred figures slipping from trunk to trunk.

Aveloria took a deep breath and called out, her voice cutting through the night. "No more hiding! Reveal yourselves, cowards!"

The forest answered silently, then another growl, but closer this time.

Galen’s eyes flashed gold briefly as his wolf instincts flared. He turned slightly toward the men. "Stay together. No one breaks formation, no matter what happens. Watch each other’s backs."

"Yes, Beta!" they chorused.