Chapter 734: Blood Was Given, Truth Forbidden

"Make that two because I did not agree to keeping you in the dark, Serena."

"Fine. Two."

"Who is the other one?" Elara asked.

"Aeron," Serena replied. "I sensed the incoming dragons from the throne room. So I began evacuating. My plan was to come to Drakenfell for help. Aeron informed me of the situation. The whole truth. Both kingdoms under siege. His orders were to put me in an evacuation tunnel. They were worried about my magic. He’s the only one who did."

Elara didn’t hesitate. "That tracks. Aeron’s always been a straight shooter." She drew her knee up and wrapped an arm around it. "I was down in the tunnels when it happened, evacuating with Bellatrix, if you can believe it. I assumed you already knew. If I’d thought for one second you didn’t, I’d have come up those stairs myself." A flicker of apology crossed her features. "He’s one of the few we trust without an asterisk. If he’s telling you something, it’s the version without the paint on it."

"He is." Serena paused, and the next thought arrived sideways. "Wait. Back up. Bellatrix was in the tunnels. Bellatrix didn’t run?"

"She did not." Elara’s brows lifted, carrying a shade of her own disbelief. "Stayed the whole time. Helped move the elders and the pups like she’d been doing it her whole life."

Serena blinked. "Bellatrix. The same Bellatrix who’s currently arranging our wedding dresses."

"The very one."

"Is she..." Serena searched for the word that wouldn’t jinx it. "Is she growing on us?"

"She’s getting there." Elara tipped her water glass side to side, weighing it. "Slowly. In the way a stain fades. But she is." Her expression softened a degree further. "She brought you a gift, you know. When you were in the hospital. Didn’t make a production of it. Just left it."

Serena sat with that, and found she didn’t have a dry remark ready for once.

"So after Aeron told me, we portaled out in the middle of the night and went to the one king who swore me an oath."

"Aevamorra Vyracarum." Elara pressed a hand to her sternum. "I could weep."

"Yes. I took down that army."

"You proved Tiberon and Dexmon wrong and I am all about it."

"When you phrase it like that..."

Elara’s hand shot up between them, flat, halting traffic. "You earned that Luna Queen seat. End of discussion. When Fin wakes, they will be sad to see you leave."

Serena took a sit of her whiskey.

"But I am still surprised they let you represent Shadowclaw without a crowning. Was that your idea?"

"No. There was pushback on it, actually." Serena turned the glass in her palm. "The elders split three ways on whether to even send me to the war council at Stormveil. Some wanted the Beta to go instead. Some didn’t want Shadowclaw to attend at all." She lifted one shoulder. "Beta Sharpe argued for me. The elders folded. I went."

"And the pushback at the actual table."

"Oh, that." A thin edge crept into her voice, dry as a bone left in the sun. "They objected to a woman in the Alpha’s chair. Loudly. So I cited Sovereign’s Law and informed them I would not be vacating it." She paused. "Then Hollowcrown invoked the right of challenge. To the death."

Elara set her own glass of water down with the care of a woman who’d just decided she needed both hands. "Kael Hollowcrown challenged you. To a duel."

"He did."

"The same Hollowcrown who just got the crown from his uncle who was a traitor?"

"That’s the one."

"Serena." Elara’s eyes narrowed. "What did you do."

"I took his head off." She delivered it without ceremony, the way a person reports an errand completed. "He threw his sword at me mid-sentence, which was tacky. I moved. He started to shift. I did not give him the opportunity to finish."

Elara stared at her.

"The blades were gold. I may have overdone the fire." Serena gave a small, tired exhale that was almost a laugh. "I wanted it done in one strike so the table never questioned my seat again. It worked. Nobody’s questioning the chair now."

"You decapitated an Alpha King at a war council." Elara spoke slowly, savoring each word like fine wine. "In front of the entire High Council. And walked away clean."

"The dress didn’t even wrinkle."

Elara picked her glass back up. "I’ve genuinely never been prouder of anyone in my life. So Dexmon’s clear of the possession now. And you walked into Stormveil wearing Shadowclaw colors right in front of him."

"Yes."

"No wonder he looked so angry." Elara’s expression shifted. The teasing drained out of it, replaced by something gentler and more careful, the face she wore when the news was going to land hard. "While you were out, by the way, Nightspire came to give you blood. There was a whole thing about him being your father." She watched Serena’s face as she said it. "I’m sorry you’re hearing it like this. Alpha Frostborne was your father, blood or not, and nothing changes that. But I can’t imagine getting hit with the other part."

Serena reached for the bottle and poured a second whiskey without asking permission from anyone, least of all herself. She drank it in one motion.

"Nightspire." The name came out flat, stripped of everything. "That is new information. No one told me."

"I don’t think they can." Elara chose her words with the caution of a woman walking a frozen lake. "I could be wrong." She turned her water glass slowly. "But the way they all went quiet about it, Serena, I’d bet he’s bound. A blood oath, or something close to it. Men don’t swallow a secret that size for fun. They swallow it because they’ve been made to."

Serena stared into the empty glass like the bottom of it owed her an explanation.

He voted reject at that council. Her supposed uncle, who had claimed her in front of every Alpha in Skardos months ago. The vote had stung at the time and made no sense. It made a different kind of no sense now.

"He gave me his blood," she repeated quietly.

"Marked you with zero hesitation, from what I gathered." Elara leaned forward. "A king doesn’t open a vein for a stranger. He did it for you."