Chapter 134: Black-Eyed Corrupted Beings
The afternoon brought more reports and decisions. She approved repairs to the outer wall, settled a dispute between two hunting parties over territory, and spent an hour with the healers reviewing preparations for potential wounded.
Each choice carried the same thread — she reviewed details herself late into the night because sharing the full load still felt risky. The flaw lived in her bones now. She saw it clearly but hadn’t found the way to loosen her grip without dropping threads.
As dusk fell she climbed the eastern wall again. The patrol had been gone hours. No word yet. The keep spread below her, alive with evening activity — fires being lit, families gathering for meals, wolves singing in the distance as night hunters prepared.
A naming ceremony’s echoes still lingered in her mind. Those pups would grow up knowing safety because she made the hard calls.
Footsteps sounded behind her. Garrick joined her at the parapet. "You should eat. Rest. The reports will wait until morning."
"They won’t wait if more farms go silent." She kept her eyes on the horizon. "Thorne’s out there chasing answers. I won’t sit idle while he risks himself."
The beta sighed but didn’t argue. "You carry too much alone, Lila. Even your mother leaned on her kings."
The words landed like stones. She knew he was right. The flaw stared back at her in the gathering dark. She carried it because letting go meant trusting others with lives she loved. Easier to bear it herself.
"I’ll rest when the east is quiet again," she said finally. "Until then, this is what the crown demands."
Garrick left her to it. Lila stayed on the wall as full night settled, the keep’s lights warm below. Somewhere out there Thorne rode with Magnus and the others. The silence waited. She would meet it with every tool at her disposal — alliances, steel, and the stubborn heart of Frostfang beating beneath her feet.
A scout’s horn sounded in the distance. Riders approaching. Her pulse quickened. Answers or more questions, the night would bring them. She straightened her shoulders and descended to meet whatever came next.
The crown sat heavy. But so did her will. Frostfang would endure. She would make sure of it.
**************
Lila reached the bailey just as the returning patrol rode through the gates, torches flaring in the cold night air.
Snow crunched under hooves. The riders looked worn — cloaks dusted white, faces drawn from hard miles.
Thorne sat tall at the front despite the obvious stiffness in his posture. Magnus rode beside him, steady and alert. Tuva Lie followed close, her gaze scanning the welcoming crowd before settling on Lila.
She pushed through the gathered pack members, heart tight but voice steady. "Report."
Thorne swung down first, wincing as his boots hit the ground. A dark bruise already bloomed along his jaw, and he favored his left side. "We found a farmstead. Empty like the others. Then the things that took them. Black veins, eyes like pits. They moved wrong. We put three down but there’s more out there. The silence isn’t empty. It’s hungry."
The words spread through the bailey like smoke. A mother pulled her child closer. An elder muttered about old curses. Lila felt the ripple of fear but kept her face calm. Showing it would only feed the panic.
Magnus dismounted and stepped forward. "My men fought well beside yours. No losses on our side. The creatures burn clean enough once they’re dead, but the tracks suggest larger groups moving deeper east. We need to decide how hard we push."
Lila met her brother’s eyes first. Thorne’s usual grin was absent, replaced by the hard set of someone who had seen too much. She knew that look. He had charged in again, axe first. The flaw that both saved lives and created new scars. She would talk to him later, in private. For now the pack needed direction.
"Bring the wounded to the healers," she ordered, voice carrying. "The rest of you, eat and rest. We meet at first light to plan the next move. Frostfang does not run from shadows. We face them."
The pack responded with nods and quiet affirmations. Hands reached out to clap shoulders of the returning riders. Children stared wide-eyed at the bloodied blades and tired horses. Life continued its stubborn rhythm even as fear licked at the edges.
A group of women brought warm broth and bread from the hall. The market overseer Hedda directed stable hands with brisk efficiency. The keep absorbed the news and kept breathing.
Lila pulled Thorne aside near the armory as the crowd dispersed. Magnus and Tuva lingered at a respectful distance, speaking quietly with Garrick.
"You’re hurt," she said, keeping her voice low.
"Bruised ribs and a sore jaw. Nothing that won’t heal." Thorne rolled his shoulder, testing it. "We had to move fast. Those things weren’t going to wait for careful planning. If we’d hesitated, more families might have disappeared."
She studied him. The recklessness sat there plain — the leap first, consequences later. It had saved them today. Tomorrow it might cost more. "I know. But you’re not out there alone. Next time, send word before you charge. I need my brother back in one piece."
Thorne gave her a tired grin. "You sound like Mother. All responsibility and heavy crowns. Someone has to take the risks while you manage the councils."
The words stung because they held truth. She carried her own weight differently — late nights alone with maps and reports because trusting others with every detail still felt dangerous. They were both products of the same blood, just different expressions of it.
"Go see the healers," she told him. "Then eat. We’ll talk more in the morning."
He nodded and limped off toward the healing halls. Tuva fell in beside him after a quick glance at Lila, offering quiet support. The sight eased something in Lila’s chest. Her brother wasn’t alone out there.
Magnus approached once the others had moved on. "He fights like a storm. Effective, but loud."
"He gets results," Lila said. "Sometimes that’s what we need. Other times it’s careful planning and hard choices. Frostfang needs both."
They walked the bailey together as night deepened. Torches flickered along the walls. A naming ceremony’s remnants still lingered near the central fire — small gifts left for the new pups, a carved bone rattle glinting in the light.
Two elders sat nearby sharing stories with a cluster of apprentices, their voices low and rhythmic. The market stalls had closed for the night but a few late traders lingered, bartering by firelight over furs and tools.
A young couple repaired a storm-damaged roof on one of the outer buildings, their laughter carrying on the wind as they worked side by side.
The keep lived. That was the part that mattered most.
Magnus spoke after a stretch of companionable silence. "Your people trust you. Even when the news is dark. That’s rarer than you think."
"They know I won’t hide the truth," she replied. "Sugar-coating threats only makes them worse when they arrive. Better to face them together."
He stopped near the training yard, turning to face her fully. Torchlight caught the sharp lines of his face. "You carry it alone too much, Lila. I saw it in the council. The way you review every detail yourself. Stormborn stands ready to share the load if you’ll allow it."
The offer landed soft but direct. She felt the pull of it — the temptation to lean, even a little. But trust built slow, earned in small actions over time. "I’ll consider it. For now, your men ride with ours and we share what we find. That’s enough."
Magnus didn’t press. Instead he gave a small nod of respect. "Fair. You lead well. Harder than most realize."
They parted at the hall steps. Lila watched him head toward the guest quarters before turning inside. The great hall had quieted to evening murmurs — small groups eating late meals, warriors sharing stories from the day’s patrol.
She took a seat at the head table and accepted a bowl of stew from one of the kitchen hands. The food was simple and hot, grounding her.
Garrick joined her after a time. "The eastern reports are troubling. If the corruption spreads, we’ll lose more than farms."
"I know." She ate slowly, mind turning. "We increase patrols but we don’t overextend. Prepare the outer families for possible evacuation. And strengthen the walls. I want every weak point reinforced before the next full moon."
The beta studied her. "You’re planning for siege."
"I’m planning for survival." The words came heavy. She had spent too many nights alone with the maps because sharing every fear felt like opening cracks. The flaw sat there, unyielding. She saw it. She just hadn’t learned how to loosen her grip without risking what she loved.
The night deepened. She made her rounds through the keep — checking the healing halls where Thorne rested under Tuva’s watchful eye, stopping by the armory to speak with the weapons master about fresh blades, pausing in the nursery wing to listen to the soft breathing of sleeping children. Each stop reminded her why she carried the weight. These lives depended on her choices.