Chapter 72 Preparing for the trial 1

Chapter 72: Chapter 72 Preparing for the trial 1

Talia’s POV

The next morning, I woke up before the sun.

Kaelen was already long gone. His side of the bed was cold, and his blanket—unused since we got back from Mooncrest Hall—was folded on the floor in its usual spot. He had slept in the bed, and had left without waking me.

I lay very still in bed for a moment, staring at the ceiling and thinking about the upcoming trial as Alpha Aldric’s words echoed in my head. "The Trial of the Mind. You must negotiate a peace treaty with the Stoneclaw Pack."

My heart pounded just thinking about it.

I climbed out of bed and walked to the window. The valley stretched out below me, very quiet and still in the early morning light. Wolves were already moving through the paths below. Some were training in the fields, their bodies glistening with sweat, while others walked between buildings, carrying supplies, and talking to each other.

They all had a purpose, a place, and a pack.

And I needed to prove myself worthy of being their Luna.

I decided to learn everything I could about the Stoneclaw Pack. If I was going to negotiate with them, I needed to understand them, their history, their Alpha, and their demands.

I walked to the bathroom and took a quick shower. The warm water helped clear my mind, and the steam filled the room, washing away the last traces of sleep.

When I came out, wrapped in a towel, a knock came at the door.

"Luna," a servant called. "I have brought your breakfast."

I dried myself quickly and pulled on a pair of jeans and a soft gray t-shirt. The fabric was comfortable and easy to move in, nothing like the stiff dresses I used to wear in Cresswood.

I opened the door, and a servant stood in the hallway with a tray in her hands.

I stepped aside, and opened the door wider so she could enter, and she set the tray on the desk. There were scrambled eggs, buttered toast, a small bowl of mixed berries, and a glass of fresh orange juice on the tray. The eggs were still steaming, and the toast was golden brown.

I muttered thanks to the servant as she bowed, and took her leave.

I closed the door, walked to the desk, sat down and ate quickly, but my mind was so full of thoughts about the trial that I could not even enjoy the meal properly. The eggs were soft, and the juice was sweet, but I barely tasted any of it.

When the tray was empty, I stood up and walked out the door, heading to the library, because I knew I would get some information from there.

The library was large and quiet.

Bookshelves lined the walls from floor to ceiling, filled with old books and scrolls and documents I had never seen before. Dust motes floated in the morning light, and the air smelled of paper and age.

I walked to the section on pack histories and ran my fingers along the spines of the large books. There were books titled: The Founding of Shadowfang, Wars of the Northern Territory, and finally, I saw one title, The Stoneclaw Pack: A History.

I pulled the book about Stoneclaw off the shelf and carried it to a table near the window.

The book was made of old leather, and cracked spine, and it was heavy in my hands. Someone had read this before me, and marked pages with folded corners.

I wondered if they had learned what I was trying to learn, or if they had failed. I did not want to fail.

So I opened the cover, and began to read.

The Stoneclaw Pack had been founded over two hundred years ago by a wolf named Bryan Stoneclaw. They had always been fierce and independent, refusing to bow to any other pack.

Their territory was rocky and harsh, with mountains that made hunting difficult. Their winters were long, and their summers were short, and they also had to fight for every meal.

That was why they clashed with Shadowfang, because our territory was richer, our lands were greener, and our hunting grounds were full of game.

The border disputes had started decades ago with constant raids, thefts, and wolves killed on both sides.

I read about the raids, the attacks, and the wolves who died with names I did not recognize, and dates I could not remember. But the pain was still there, written in the words of the historians who had recorded them.

Their current Alpha was named Alpha Stone. He was old and bitter, but he loved his pack. He had watched his wolves starve in the winter, and he had buried too many of them.

He did not trust outsiders, and he had every reason not to.

I read about their demands.

They wanted access to Shadowfang’s hunting grounds during the winter months when their own territory could not sustain them, they wanted compensation for the raids Shadowfang had launched against them in the past, and they wanted recognition as an equal pack, not as a lesser enemy to be crushed.

I wrote notes on scraps of paper, consisting of facts, questions, and things I needed to remember.

Hours passed, but I did not notice the time. My eyes moved from page to page, and my fingers traced the lines of text as if I could absorb the knowledge through my skin.

A servant brought me lunch, but I did not look up when she set the tray on the table. I ate the food without stopping my research, and if someone had asked me what I ate, I could not have told them because I barely remembered.