Bound By Destiny - Thorian and Emmeral

[Thorian Thalric]

The icy wind howled through the peaks of the Blackfrost Range, carrying with it the scent of blood, fear, and something far more insidious... dark magic. The massive iron gates of Eboncrest Citadel stood firm against the elements, but within its walls, unrest stirred.

A Frostclaw warrior burst into the grand hall, his breath heaving in white puffs. He dropped to one knee, fist over heart in deference. “My King, survivors from another pack have stumbled into our lands... wounded, desperate. They bring warnings.”

Thorian Thalric stood from his seat, broad shoulders squared, piercing frostfire eyes narrowing. His presence alone was a force of command, the weight of his crown heavy but never wavering. “Where?”

“The eastern border, near the Veilwood. Our patrol intercepted them, but they refused to be turned away. They demand to speak to you.”

Without hesitation, Thorian strode past his warriors, his long cloak swirling behind him. His boots crunched against the frozen earth as he emerged into the open courtyard where a small group of battered werewolves had been held back by his warriors.

One of them... a grizzled male, barely standing, his fur streaked with the crimson of battle... lifted his head. “My King,” he rasped, bowing as best he could. “Please... you must listen. We are all that’s left.”

Thorian stepped forward, his towering form casting a shadow over the trembling wolves. “Speak.”

“They came at night. Rogues, but... they were not themselves. Their eyes, their movements... it was as if they were something else entirely. Dark magic turned them into monsters.” He swallowed hard. “They slaughtered everyone. Our Alpha fell, our Luna…” His voice cracked. “We barely escaped. And she...”

Thorian’s gaze sharpened. “Who?”

“Emmeral,” the wolf croaked. “She fought harder than any of us, held them back so we could run. If she lives, it is only because she is too stubborn to die.”

Something stirred in Thorian, a whisper at the edge of his mind, a pull deep in his bones. But he dismissed it for the moment.

His voice was cold and commanding. “Beta, gather warriors and meet me at the front gates. Now.”

Through their mind-link, his Beta responded immediately. As you command, my King.

Thorian turned back to the battered wolves. “You’re safe now. Tend to your wounds.” Without waiting for a response, he strode towards the gates.

Minutes later, his Beta and a dozen warriors arrived. With a sharp nod, Thorian shifted.

Bones snapped, muscle expanded, and in mere seconds, the man was gone... replaced by a towering beast of dark silver-gray fur, streaked with the faint, ethereal glow of blue that shimmered under the moonlight. His piercing eyes burned with a frostfire glow as Draco took full control. Without hesitation, the rest of the warriors followed, shifting into their wolves and taking off into the night.

Through the snow-laden pines they raced, silent shadows moving with purpose. Thorian led the charge, the scent of blood thick in the air. But then... something else. Faint, yet unmistakable.

A scent that sent a jolt through his entire being. "It can’t be." Thorian says confused. Draco growled, the sound raw and possessive. "Mate."

Thorian’s breath hitched, his powerful strides faltering for a mere second before instinct took over. His pulse thundered, denial warring with primal need. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not now. Not like this. They pushed harder, running at full speed toward the source of the scent. Every second mattered.

They found her at the base of a jagged rock outcrop, half-buried in the snow, blood soaking into the ice beneath her. Even in ruin, she was striking... dark hair tangled with frost, her body battered but unbroken in spirit. Shadow clung to her skin, shifting like living tendrils, fighting to keep her hidden from the world. Thorian shifted back, kneeling beside her. His hand hesitated only for a moment before he touched her, fingers brushing against her ice-cold skin. A force unlike anything he had ever known surged through him.

The air around them crackled. A blinding pulse of silver-blue energy erupted from where their skin met, sending a shockwave through the clearing. Frost spread outward in jagged veins, the ground beneath them quaking. For the first time in his reign, Thorian felt powerless against something greater than himself. Her body shuddered, and with a gasping breath, her eyes fluttered open. The moment their gazes met, the tether locked into place. Silence stretched between them, the weight of the moment sinking in. Disbelief warred in his chest, the reality of what had just happened pressing down like an iron weight.

His Beta’s voice cut through the frozen air. “Is she alive, my King?”

Thorian blinked, the spell of the moment breaking. He exhaled sharply. “She is.”

“No other survivors were found,” his Beta added grimly.

Thorian’s jaw clenched. “Send the trackers to the border. See if they can pick up any remaining trails.”

His Beta bowed his head. “And what of her?”

Thorian glanced down at the unconscious female in his arms, his emotions a storm of chaos. He should have felt victorious, relieved. Instead, rage simmered beneath his skin.

"Why now?" he thought bitterly. "Of all times, why now?"

Draco’s voice rumbled in his mind. "The Moon Goddess has decided. She is ours."

"She is a burden I cannot afford right now." Thorian responded. 

The wolf growled lowly. "She is fate."

Thorian exhaled sharply. This wasn’t a battle he would win. Not against destiny itself. With a final glance at his Beta, he made his decision.

“I’m taking her back to Eboncrest.” he said to his Beta without taking another glance back at him. Lifting her effortlessly into his arms, he turned and began the long trek back through the forest. Each step felt heavier than the last, the weight of what had just happened pressing down on him harder than ever before. 

As Thorian approached the gates of Eboncrest, he mind-linked his best healer "I need you in the infirmary now!" without waiting for the healer to respond Thorian made his way through the courtyard towards the infirmary. Without having to say a word the path was cleared for him. As he laid her down on the bed in the private room, Thorian couldn't help but stare at her. "Is Lunara serious right now?" he asks in a barely audible whisper. 

"The moon goddess knows what is best. And when." Draco responded. 

[Emmeral Langley]

Her weighting words finding unsettling fitted.

The attack upon her people may of began by mere drive for power and strength.

Her body absently playing with the wrapped bandage to her thigh as she pondered.

Dark magic seemed to evolve within the murk, seemingly drawn towards the Capital "Awoken by you" the shift in timeframe made sense to their findings in conversation "My pack" her lips pressed unable to separate distinction of passing term but unable to renounce verbally to her fallen pack, fleshly wounded as it mixed within the bond in sharing as she thought.

Her exposure calm as she did not stir from her strength or become unwoven in fear - She stood tall as a leader, even when she was Delta she had the properties Lunara seeked for Thorian's side. An equal of equal force.

"They will not repeat" Andarna prowled along the edges in defensive words "Our people will be brought justice."

"In due time" Emmeral comforted, in one way or another she would seek answers.

Emmeral and Andarna were not agreed to bringing down those who had ravaged her pack but they would find them peace.

Stilled within her eating as she spoke softly "the rogues were hungry" recalling her people falling around her, the sight of her Alpha laying before his Luna and child "taken and moved on. When you found me," her gaze meeting his in a moment of replaced appreciation as it too flared within the tethering "the magic in me remained, grew, evolved" her brows furrowed no longer feeling tethered to the underworld "I don't feel disconnected as such" in unrecognizable means of wording that couldn't pass her tongues description "but, I guess we will know if the rogue feels drawn, his reasoning made light soon enough" her words hopefully as she picked at some veggies, stabbing them onto her fork.

His ever so slight smile softening the moment likes its own flare of warmth despite the fireplace becoming null in use. His response almost surprising her as she tilted her head slightly as he did not bar her.

"See, he is beginning to see us for our strength - we've already handled a packless army of magical rogues. He is beginning to understand our drive, our power" Andarna growled in delight, seeing Thorian not control and dismiss but it in knowing she could hold her own.

Mirrored in studied features as their eyes remained instilled towards one another, hearing his command that clawed not in force but in reasoning "Thankyou, Thor" personalized and humbled to walking alongside her than separate her from this fight that now wove within both their lives.

Buried beneath his frostfire blues that almost winded her with the effects of his smile. 

Feeling his elated emotions shimmer through the bond in response that warmed her heart.

If magical, would effect the flush on her cheek within the softened glow within the room.

In mention of Eirik, Emmeral was unable to see through his eyes the affects his action had created "Protecting me?" she pondered, peering down as if she too would see what he was seeing but knowing she wasn't able to perceive meaning.

Acknowledged withing a nod as Emmeral returned to intake the gathered veggies to her fork before lowering her fork again "Tea" a scrunch to its means having never been a fan and growing up with her mother as a magical healer, knowing it held further healing properties - flashbacks to her mother trying to sooth the taste with honey but finding it lacking appeal to her tastebuds.

Revelation within her movements, his action prior kicking her regenerative healing, his closeness and their deepening bond strengthening her, her shoulder threading together remained in scaring that would eventually disappear, her ribs completely fused back into place with soft signs of bruising after effects, her mind no longer drawn towards the souls of her passed pack members but revived.

Her words seconding his "Together" she smiled as the comfortable silence rested between them a moment before she added in coax "Now eat."

[Thorian Thalric]

Her words sat heavy in the space between them... unsettling in truth, but undeniable in their resonance.

As Emmeral’s fingers absently traced over the bandaged wound at her thigh, Thorian followed the motion with guarded eyes. There was no pain on her face, no fear... only thought, only purpose. The fire of a leader, even in quiet contemplation.

“She’s more than we expected.” 

“She’s exactly what we needed,” Thorian corrected internally.

She was tracing the web of a larger picture. And she was doing it with grace and quiet strength that rivaled even the most seasoned Alpha. When she spoke of her pack... the ones she could no longer call by name without emotion tightening her throat... the bond between them flickered, sharing that grief, that sense of fractured identity.

“She’s still mourning,” Draco said softly. 

“She has every right to.” Thorian responded with a sigh. 

Thorian let her speak, let her thoughts unravel aloud. He owed her that and more. She was trying to make sense of something they all were... how power, not vengeance, had likely ignited the rogue assault. And how the magic in her, twisted and growing under pressure, might’ve called the darkness to her doorstep like wolves to a wounded stag.

“It’s evolving… changing her,” Draco mused.

“No. She’s adapting. Not becoming corrupted.”

“That’s the difference, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Thorian murmured aloud to Emmeral’s speculation, “we’ll know soon enough what drew him here. Whether it was your magic, or…” he paused, voice deeper now, “something more orchestrated.”

He hadn’t ruled out a greater hand in the storm they found themselves in. Her thank you hit differently. Not for protection. Not for decisions made. But for seeing her. For not treating her like a fragile thing.

Thorian’s eyes held hers, frostfire gaze locking onto the determination flaring behind her own. She didn’t beg to be spared from the fight. She stood in it, shoulder to shoulder, and gods help whatever tried to sever her from it again. 

“She’s fire and shadow and blood, brother,” Draco exhaled. “And we are lucky.”

The faint warmth of her blush through the bond made Thorian’s smile deepen just slightly—not for her embarrassment, but for the closeness. For the connection that tethered them now with an ease he never thought possible.

Then— A presence approached.

A knock of knuckles against the wooden door preceded the entry. Thorian barely had to lift his head.

“Enter,” he called.

The door creaked open to reveal Eirik, swathed in his usual cloak of earthen tones, staff in hand, the scent of pine and crushed herbs trailing behind him like smoke. His ageless eyes took in the room, then landed on Emmeral with a glint of warmth.

“I brought the tea,” he said, holding up a steaming clay pot and two mismatched mugs. 

Thorian watched the look on Emmera's face when Eiriik mentioned the tea and almost chuckled. 

“She’s not a fan,” he offered, earning a side glance from her.

Eirik made his way to her side, setting the items down with care. “That just means you’ve never had my tea.”

The old healer turned serious in an instant. “Now…I can see there has been a change between the two of you. Care to fill me in?”

Thorian’s jaw flexed. He reached across the table, his fingers ghosting over his own palm... the hand that had burned with frostfire the moment he’d touched her torn flesh. The memory still lingered vividly.

“I’d meant only to stabilize her,” he began, “but the moment my hand met her wound, something... shifted. A pulse. A surge. The magic in her responded to mine, and it... it drew from me. I felt it anchor something inside her. Not like regular healing. Deeper. Older.”

Eirik’s gaze sharpened, lips pressing into a thin line.

The room grew quiet as Eirik slowly circled to her other side and crouched, gesturing gently to her thigh.

“May I?” he asked.

At her nod, Eirik’s hand hovered, a warm pulse of golden light weaving from his fingertips. Thorian watched, ever alert, as faint runes shimmered over the bandage... subtle markings unseen to the naked eye.

Eirik muttered a few words under his breath before withdrawing.

“It’s as I suspected,” he said finally. “What you did, Thorian, wasn’t just a healing. It was a binding. Not in control or dominance, but in preservation. Your bond with her, as fated, accepted. And that act alone allowed your power to act on its own accord.”

Thorian’s jaw clenched. “So I...I healed her, because I accepted the bond?”

Eirik nodded. “Yes. That’s why it worked. No forced control. No resistance. The Oath recognized her as your mate, and it gave her what she needed to survive.” Thorian leaned back slightly, processing.

“And the rogue?” he asked. “Could that bond be why he tracked her this far? Could her magic… call to whatever is inside him?”

Eirik’s face darkened. “That is likely. If he carries a corrupted echo of similar magic... something tainted... then he would sense hers. Perhaps even crave it.”

Thorian’s fists clenched, knuckles whitening. “So he was drawn not to kill her… but to claim her?”

Eirik didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. 

“He won’t touch her,” Draco snarled.

“No one will,” Thorian agreed, cold steel threading into his voice.

Then, the air shifted again. Lighter this time.

“I’m taking her out of this room,” Thorian said, more softly. “She’s been locked in here long enough. I want to show her the citadel. Give her a sense of the land. Of home.”

Eirik gave a knowing nod. “Good. She needs that. But don’t linger too long in the ruins. The old magic still stirs there.”

Thorian looked back at Emmeral, that quiet warmth threading through the bond again.

“Come,” he said, standing and offering his hand. “There’s more to this place than walls and soldiers. Let me show you the rest of the kingdom you’ve walked into.” 

“Flower crown time,” Draco whispered giddily. 

“You’re hopeless.” Thorian rolled his eyes at the old fleabag.

And yet, as her hand slid into his, the world seemed to tilt ever so slightly into place. Whatever was coming... rogues, magic, war... they would face it together. And tonight, for just a moment, he would give her the stars of his citadel.

[Emmeral Langley]

Emmeral couldn't help but pondering momentarily on the potential, that if she had not been saved she either would of joined her fallen people or turned into a driven rogue consumed by dark magic. The imagery haunting behind her eyelids but was nothing more than a momentary fear.

She was here. She was present. She was alive.

Her heart thrummed in acknowledgement.

Her emotional waves seconding to her stability of some sense of her new normal.

The notion of someone using rogues and corrupting them was unfathomable to means, rogues were people too, fighting to survive the next few hours, to see darkness tainted them to their very core into something monstrous sickened her.

The matter of the rogue falling to backed topic in later focus.

Eirik's scent softening the room's musk upon his enter, his presence aged as he stood before them.

Her smile warm as she bowed respectfully.

The tea disruptive of interest upon her expression that Thorian spoke of earning him a sidewards glance.

"My mother use to always give it to me particularly before Andarna revealed" her nose scrunched up "Nothing she put in it could make me like it" her tone soft in memory, laughing softly beneath her breath.

Evident a shift had changed between the pairing. For one, neither were at the others throat figuratively.

Emmeral feeling Eirik's loom silently in thought as he walked around her, gestured permission to touching her thigh to which Emmeral nodded in approval.

Silent in his examination as his palms surged with power, a golden haze shimmering over her thigh that bared no ache or reaction, just simple visuals as his magic searched. Focused within watchful eyes as Emmeral swore she could see markings... ruins.

Hearing Eiriks words in regards to the bond seemingly flared beneath the surface of her skin, as if in knowing of its spoken word as if to state, yes Im here, Im alive. Thankful she was on the mend.

Her gaze sweeping towards Thorian as he understood he had accepted the bond. the acknowledged of wording more surprised her than the feel that flourished between them. The aching presence of tingling sparks that coursed between them. She watched as she pondered his reaction to accepting the bond more than having been healed.

The notion of the rogues travels being drawn towards her sickened her within the pit of her stomach. Emmeral left in silence which was rare as she soaked up everything that was being discussed between the men within the room. her sights no longer appeased by the food before her as she set down her fork, pleased when the topic was changed.

Admittedly, Emmeral had heard stories of the Citadel, her parents bringing back stories of what it would look like, at times bringing home a keepsake for her to get a sense of travel when she was unable to leave the pack grounds much being young.

The statement passing Thorian's lips of calling Eboncrest home gave missed emotions but more of the positive than the later. His gestured hand and words calling to her as she reached out slipping her hand into his and rose to her feet with more ease. Relaxation threading within the bond as she moved slowly but well enough to ease about the castle grounds, surely to return in fatigue but was worth it to get out of this room that was although beautiful had overstayed its welcome "Where too first?" her head turning to meet Eirik's as she lowered her head in bowed appreciation "Thankyou for your insight and assessment."

[Thorian Thalric]

She was present. That quiet truth pulsed through the bond like a steady rhythm, anchoring Thorian even as the cold weight of potential pasts pressed against his shoulders. The paths she could have walked... death, corruption, madness... he could have been too late.

But he hadn’t been. And neither had she.

Her gaze found him after Eirik’s revelation, not in disbelief, but with something softer. Not surprise at the bond’s truth, but at his acceptance of it. As though she'd expected resistance, and instead had found welcome. His own reaction to Eirik’s words had not been shock... but confirmation. The deep-set sense that something inevitable had clicked into place. His power had recognized hers. Their bond had solidified in fire, frost, and survival.

“You accepted her,” Draco said, quieter than usual.

“I didn’t even have to think about it. I knew it was the right choice.”  Thorian replied as he watched Eirik work. 

“Because she’s ours.”

The moment Emmeral laid down her fork, expression shaded by the heaviness of their discussion, Thorian shifted his stance, a protective flicker threading through the bond.

Enough talk of death. Enough weight. Tonight, he would give her something else.

Eirik’s presence, calm and steady as ever, had dulled some of that heaviness... but even so, Thorian gave the old healer a nod of gratitude, one warrior to another.

“Thank you, Eirik,” he said quietly. “For coming so quickly. And for treating her with care.”

Eirik’s brows arched slightly, the faintest smirk curling beneath his beard. “You sound surprised.”

Thorian huffed. “Not surprised. Just… grateful.” His eyes flicked to Emmeral. “Truly.”

Eirik bowed his head. “She is strong. That much is certain. But even the strongest need guidance... and rest.”

The implication was clear, and Thorian didn’t miss it. But still, his grip on her hand tightened gently.

“I’ll make sure she rests. After.”

Eirik gave a hum of acceptance and turned toward the door. “Avoid the east wing tonight. I stirred some of the wards near the lower catacombs. They’re restless.”

Thorian gave a single nod in reply. “Noted.”

As the door clicked shut behind him, silence stretched for a beat longer before Emmeral’s voice stirred the space between them again.

She moved with greater ease now, her steps steadier, her spine straighter. A glimmer of pride burned low in Thorian’s chest, seeing her rise... like a storm refinding its momentum.

But before they went... “You’ll need a cloak,” Thorian said dryly, lifting one brow. “Unless you plan on freezing solid before we make it down the corridor.

“It’s colder than Hel’s breath outside,” Draco added, always dramatic.

“She’s Nightshade, not Frostclaw,” Thorian muttered back.

A faint smile pulled at his lips as he looked to her again. “You might be shadow-touched, Emmy, but that won’t save you from the winds up here. The cold in these mountains doesn’t ask who you are... it just takes.”

Once she gathered her cloak and wrapped it around herself, he opened the door and led her into the hallway. The stone walls outside the chamber were colder, yes, but alive in a different way... etched with subtle ancient runes in the veins of the stone, occasionally glowing as they passed. Protective wards. Old as Eboncrest itself.

They moved in silence for a few moments, steps echoing in the quiet before Thorian began to speak again.

“We’ll start with the inner wing,” he said. “Few come here outside of council and command. Even the Omegas... those tasked with maintaining the citadel... tread lightly.”

They passed a pair of heavy wooden doors, flanked by silver sconces. Thorian pressed his hand to the center panel, which shimmered faintly at his touch before clicking open.

Inside was a dimly lit, circular chamber. The Hall of Lineage.

Portraits lined the walls... oil paintings that each stared with solemn eyes. Alphas of old. Kings long buried in the ice. And in the center, a larger canvas stood... his own father, stern and cold as Thorian remembered, framed by banners of House Thalric.

“My bloodline,” he said quietly, eyes scanning the faces. “All that remains of it, anyway.”

He felt her shift beside him, her curiosity brushing up against his through the bond. A pang echoed in his chest.

“They led with strength. Often without mercy.” He looked toward her. “I intend to do differently.”

“Because she is your balance,” Draco rumbled. “She is the mercy.”

They didn’t linger. From there, he led her through winding halls, down into the Council Chambers.... a towering room of black stone and steel, the air rich with politics and tension. Empty now, but powerful in presence.

“Council meets here monthly,” he explained. “To advise me. Though I don’t always follow their counsel.”

A small smirk touched his lips. Then into the War Room... lined with maps of the territories, movable markers placed where scouts and spies last reported rogue movement.

Her eyes traced everything. He didn’t miss a single flicker of her attention. Nor did he miss the subtle way she stood straighter in these spaces... not as a guest, but as if measuring where she might fit in.

"She fits everywhere,” Draco offered simply. 

“Yes. She does.”

They exited into the broader hall, when footsteps ahead caused Thorian to halt.

Two wolves approached.... broad-shouldered, armored, and sharp-eyed. One with scarred knuckles and snow-blonde hair tied back in a knot. The other, shorter but wiry, with a pair of blades strapped across his back.

Both bowed as they neared.

“My King,” said the taller one. “We were returning from patrol.”

“Captain Rael. Lieutenant Juno,” Thorian addressed them. “Good timing.”

He glanced to Emmeral and then back to his men. His voice was steady, yet laced with something deeper. Something final.

“This is Emmeral,” he said. “My mate. And your Luna.”

The warriors straightened, their expressions shifting with silent surprise... then resolution.

Rael offered a deep, respectful bow. “An honor, Luna.”

Juno grinned slightly, nodding. “About time, Alpha.”

“See? Even they knew,” Draco snorted.

“They’ll protect her with their lives.”

“They’ll have to go through us first.”

Thorian gave them a nod of dismissal, watching as they disappeared down the corridor. He turned back to Emmeral, the tension in his shoulders fading slightly. “You belong here,” he said, quiet but firm. “You always did.”

And though the cold still lingered in the stone, the bond between them burned warm... leading them forward into the halls of fate they now shared.

[Emmeral Langley]

The feeling of a pressured weight to Emmeral's shoulders, as if a figure was present upon her side. A protectiveness that rested against her, the bond empowered by it as Emmeral's gaze shifted towards Thorian - feeling his protective nature surfacing.

Meeting Thorian's gaze as he thanked Eirik for his, their connective eyes rubber banding at the pulsating bond invisibly moving between them. Seeing Thorian soften in his communication towards Eirik than the stern means of them prior. A soft exhale passed her lips as she rose to her feet, the importance of care upon her revealed certainty through the firmed grip Thorian took upon her hand, knowing he too would remind her of ease.

Noting the restriction towards the eastern wing before they were left once again.

Night Shade a warmer climate had its fair share of colder weather but nothing in comparison to Eboncrest as Thorian noted the need of rugging up.

A soft laugh almost reverbed off the stone walls as Emmeral searched for a cloak that rested upon a hook by the door, slipping it around her shoulders and through her arms till it comfortably cocooned her in warmth.

Feeling like a bird with renewed wings taking to the air once more as they exited her chambers. Familiar wards pulsed within stone in passing as Emmeral was able to keep up pacing beside him, her legs strong in stride as her gaze wandered, mindfulness of her parents words that hadn't given this place justice, a truly remarkable piece of design that was breathtaking visually.

Taking in Thorian's every word of history as she tagged alongside him, stepping through heritage as her eyes marveled to each oil painting within the Lineage Hall. Thorian's words pressing within the bond as he intended to lead his people better than those before him, her own tethering pressing back in gentle touch as if stating his ruling would bring his people forward that those before him had not.

Moving through passages until their travels met the Council Chamber, her features mirroring his in a soft smirk of no surprise of their council not always taken on board but glad he at least heard their reasoning regardless of action.

The War Room more familiar to her as it mirrored much of hers when she was back in the Night Shades. Differed means as markers placed reasoning to rogue activity.

Their travels stilled as 2 wolves approached within the hall, respectful as they closed the space between them as Emmeral learned they were the Captain and Lieutenant. 

Her head bowing in greeting before Thorian's words made her peer towards him, statement of her being his mate and Luna, a surprise threaded through the bond and across her expression as she hadn't expected the news to begin its travel outside of knowledge between Eirik and them.

The way of his acknowledgement made her heart swell and the bond flare under his words.

None the less, she was quick to react as she bowed to them respectfully in return, a smirk resting to the edges of her lips as Juno's lighthearted remark reminded her of her former Beta, Dion's "Pleased to meet you both" she vocalized as her hands rested in front of her, twiddling nervously with her fingers before they parted ways.

Her gaze removed from the men's retreating back towards Thorian, his words sinking in as she inhaled slowly, the bond seconding his words of belonging as she softly nodded in acknowledgement and understanding "Then let's continue to see my home" she softly spoke as she would carry the strength of 2 packs within her name. Sponging as much as she could about Eboncrest to lead by Thorian's side rightfully.

[Thorian Thalric]

The words lingered in the air, soft yet profound: "Then let's continue to see my home."

Thorian’s steps slowed, the weight of her voice... her choice... hitting him deeper than she likely realized. He turned to look at her, the golden firelight from one of the wall sconces catching the edges of her dark cloak, making her appear like something out of a memory. Or a promise.

His lips curved, unbidden but sure. Not the sharp smirk he wore for court, not the stoic grimace of a ruler burdened with war and expectation... but something quieter. Something only she had drawn from him.

“She called it home,” Draco murmured, pleased, tail wagging in the recess of his mind.

“She did,” Thorian responded, almost reverent. “And she meant it.”

“She is ours,” his wolf added, pride rumbling deep. “Not just as a mate... but one who sees what we’ve built and calls it hers.”

Thorian nodded faintly to himself before offering her his arm once more. “Come then,” he said, voice low and warm, “let me show you my favorite place.”

Their footsteps echoed down the corridor, past centuries-old doors carved from ashwood and set with cold silver, the smell of polished stone and faint winter ever-present. Servants dipped their heads respectfully as they passed, though Thorian noted more than one pair of curious eyes lingered on Emmeral.

He didn’t blame them. His Luna. He led her through a quiet side passage, one only a handful in the Citadel even knew about. A subtle ward shimmered as they passed beneath it, and then the corridor opened onto a small balcony... modest compared to the grandeur of the Citadel halls... but the view it offered was anything but.

Below them stretched the whole of the Blackfrost Dominion.

Rolling tundra blanketed in snow, evergreen forests clinging to jagged slopes, rivers frozen in jagged beauty... and far beyond, the distant blue shimmer of the Veilwood that whispered with old magic. The moon hung low, casting a silver hue across it all. Still. Untouched. Endlessly vast.

“This,” he said quietly, “is where I come to think.” He released her hand only long enough to lean his arms on the frost-etched balustrade. “Before battles. After council meetings. When I need to remember why I fight.”

The wind stirred his long coat, and the cold kissed his skin, but the bond's warmth remained ever-present... a tether between them, steady and grounding.

“You’re softening,” Draco teased.

“I’m grounding,” Thorian corrected.

“Hmph. Grounded. Happy. All dangerous things for a warrior,” his wolf muttered. But the contentment beneath his words was unmistakable.

Thorian tilted his head toward Emmeral, eyes softening at the sight of her, cloaked and gazing out at the lands that were now as much hers as his. “This view has kept me sane more times than I can count,” he admitted. “When I took the mantle of Alpha-King, I thought strength alone would carry me through. Strategy. Fear. Power.”

His hand shifted, brushing the edge of her cloak near her wrist. “But this land... these people... they need more than a cold blade. They need heart. Steadiness. And they need to believe.” He turned his head fully, facing her. “Since the bond was formed… since you came into my life, I’ve remembered things I didn’t think I could feel anymore.” 

“Say it,” Draco urged. “She deserves truth, not walls.”

Thorian exhaled, frost swirling in the air. “You’ve changed everything, Emmy. And not just for me. I see it already... how the wolves look at you. How the magic stirs when you're near. You don’t just belong here. You were meant for this.” Silence stretched for a moment, thick with wind and feeling. 

“Ours,” Draco said again, quieter this time. “Not just fate. Chosen.”

Thorian leaned closer, his voice a murmur lost in the wind, meant only for her. “I don’t know what awaits us in the battles to come, but I do know this... I will not walk them without you at my side.” He let her have the view, let her absorb the land she would help protect and rule. The moment didn’t need filling. Not with more words.

And yet, he offered her a small smirk a few breaths later. “Come,” he said, straightening, but not before brushing a knuckle gently under her chin, “there’s still more to show you. You’ve seen the might of the War Room… now I’ll show you the quiet heart of the Citadel.”

They moved again... past frostbitten glass mosaics and velvet-draped chambers... his office next, where shelves of old tomes lined the walls and maps littered his desk. She teased him about his messy notes, and he bore it with mock offense, secretly pleased to see her so at ease.

The Council Chambers had their share of drama and posturing, but he showed her the hidden room beyond them too... a place even most councilors didn’t know of. A space where his father had once sought clarity. A place now warded in his name alone.

And when they passed guards or servants, the greetings came not just to him, but them. With deference. With respect. With hope. He introduced her each time, with pride swelling like a wave against his ribs. “This is Emmeral. My mate. Your Luna.”

And each time he said it, the bond sparked stronger, fiercer, like the stars themselves were watching.

[Emmeral Langley]

Reaching for his extended arm, her fingers curled around his forearm as they continued their travels.

Intrigued by his favorite place as she followed his lead, the absent halls echoing across their footsteps, mirrored by servants who respectfully addressed them in passing, her kindness always meeting them despite her rumbling nerves, wanting to make a good impression with those of whom she'd guide and serve.

Shimmering wards almost giving her an impression of calling her home, becoming alive and strengthened in their presence.

Joining in Thorian's secretive place as their pathing guided them passage.

A balcony beaconing ahead as they were welcomed by the vast stretch of enriched sights of the land they ruled upon.

Stilled in sheets of snow as Emmeral saw the potential and felt the life and thrive of their surroundings. The moon casting importance over her new kingdom she would aid in ruling by Thorian's side.

She hadn't known if it was the acceptance by Thorian, the acknowledge of her no longer looming on death's door or Lunara herself that strengthened her in silence as she released her hold on it and placed it to the cold surface of the stone balcony that reminder her of the edged drop before them.

His words filling her mind as she watched the beautiful sea of forestry before them, etched within her mind as she noted in softness "So, if I ever need to find you - I'll just look here" the wind softly swept around them, reminding of the cold air that kissed against their flesh but the bond shielding them from its affects.

Turning her head to meet his gaze, a thread burning between them as they connected. His words wrapping around her comfortably that almost made her head spin in their closeness but she refrained from buckling.

Her own pinky reaching out to his hand in magnetic pull in her silence, his words sinking in as he spoke truth as she stared into his eyes. No restrictions. No walls, Just honesty.

"He speaks the truth" Andarna almost swoons in the back of her mind "You steady his blade" she confirms.

A comfortable silence stretched between them, settling his words within her heart as swirling whispers of frost bit air whispering against their skin. Their bond thriving within his words and their emotions.

"You were meant to be here. With him" Andarna's voice soothed like the wind that carried the weight of the land before them.

His closeness dangerous as Emmeral's composure cracked just a little in the way her breath hitched and her body leaned in support against the railing.

His words the only thing grounding her from collapse, her won soft in spoken honest agreed statement "You do not walk alone."

His action reactive as his knuckle brushed beneath her chin, straightening her up as she took his forearm once again in guide.

The view whispering against their backs as they retreated within, whispered winds replaced with their footing against the stone flooring as they proceeded, her eyes taking in everything she could absorb.

Stepping within a room that was obvious an office, riddled with passages of old books and tomes along the wall, his stationary cluttered about.

Her amusing tease granting a smirked react as she engrossed in her surroundings before they moved to the council chambers. 

Their passing of individuals always met her with a prideful smile as she became more comfortable within her surroundings, moreso with Thorian's attention to her presence as he addressed her renewed title, compassion and verification.

Knowing she would have to get use to it, with her formality to few to call her Emmeral instead but even then knowing she needed to get use to the correct terminology of Eboncrest.

"Pleasure to meet you all" her positioning close by Thorian's side.

[Thorian Thalric]

Thorian caught the way Emmeral’s breath hitched—the barest tell of how deeply she was affected... and how she leaned just slightly against the railing for support. She was resilient, but even the strongest warriors needed grounding in moments like this.

"You do not walk alone,"  her voice echoed a balm against the raw parts of him he hadn’t even realized were still healing. It was a quiet promise. One he tucked away deep, where even the storms of war would not reach.

Gently, he brushed his knuckles beneath her chin, urging her to stand steady once more before offering his arm. She took it without hesitation, her hand fitting naturally against his forearm, her warmth seeping through the heavy layers between them.

As they retreated back into the Citadel, the view of their Dominion whispering goodbye behind them, Thorian cast one last glance over the frozen lands. His lands. Their lands now. 

"She steadies us," Draco rumbled in the back of his mind, immensely pleased.

"She does," Thorian agreed, feeling the bond pulse strong and sure between them. "And I would see her rooted here, in strength and safety."

Their path shifted, deeper into the heart of the Citadel. Instead of returning directly to her chambers, he veered left, guiding her down a quieter corridor lined with iron-banded doors. One in particular he stopped before, its wood darkened with age but polished smooth from centuries of care.

He drew a heavy key from his coat and unlocked it, pushing the door open for her. Soft, warm light spilled from the sconces within, revealing a spacious office... her office. Richly carved bookcases framed the walls, a wide oak desk stood near the hearth, and plush chairs faced each other in a subtle invitation for council. A writing nook rested against a window that overlooked the Frostgarden below.

"This will be yours," Thorian said, watching her reaction closely. "Your seat of command. Your sanctuary when you need it."

His voice lowered, serious and warm all at once. "Tomorrow, I'll introduce you to those who will serve directly under you. Your own personal staff. Apart from Aeris, of course. She’s already yours in loyalty."

He allowed a brief smile to touch his mouth at the thought of the young healer, before turning his full attention back to Emmeral.

"You’ll find no shortage of work here," he added dryly. "But you won’t be doing it alone."

"Proud of her," Draco said, tail thudding with satisfaction. 

"She's not even started yet," Thorian reminded with a wry edge, though pride curled in his chest nonetheless.

He gestured for her to walk with him once more. Their pace was slower now, not from fatigue but from an almost mutual unwillingness to rush what was unfolding between them. "We’ll stay inside for tonight," he said, his hand hovering near her lower back, guiding but never pushing. "You’ve had enough of the cold for one day."

A few more winding passages led them toward the kitchens... the heart of the Citadel most never thought to show visiting dignitaries. But Emmeral wasn’t a guest. She was family now. A heartbeat of this place. The warmth of the kitchens greeted them before they even rounded the last corner. The smell of baking bread, stewed meat, and sweet winter berries filled the air, comforting and familiar. A handful of kitchen staff bustled about, though they paused, bowing respectfully when they noticed Thorian and his companion.

One older woman, Marta, the head cook... beamed at Emmeral unabashedly, offering a quick curtsy before returning to kneading dough at the counter. Thorian watched the easy welcome Emmeral was given and felt a tightness ease inside him he hadn't realized he was carrying. 

"They already accept her," Draco observed, pleased. 

"She makes it easy," Thorian answered silently, the corners of his mouth lifting faintly.

He guided her through the kitchen, showing her the tucked-away staff quarters nearby... modest rooms, neat and warm, where those who served the Citadel lived in comfortable proximity. He pointed out the mess hall, the laundry rooms, the storerooms stacked with winter provisions. Nothing hidden. No secrets between her and the place she would help rule.

As they crossed back through the kitchen proper, Thorian slowed, turning slightly toward her. "You’ve been through much tonight," he said, voice low enough to keep their conversation private amidst the hum of evening activity. "If it’s too much, say the word, and I’ll see you safely back to your chambers."

He held her gaze steadily, the concern behind his words real and unhidden. "You don't have to push yourself for my sake, Emmeral," he added, softer now. "The journey we’re beginning... it’s not a sprint. We have time." 

"Careful," Draco warned with a chuckle. "You'll have her thinking you're gentle."

"Maybe I am," Thorian mused, surprising even himself. "With her, I can be."

And as he waited for her answer, the bond between them thrummed, not with urgency, but with something steadier. Stronger. As if the Dominion itself was holding its breath, awaiting the future that would be shaped by the two of them... together.

[Emmeral Langley]

Emmeral knew they had far to travel together.

To get to know one another down to their bones.

Today had shown a new direction.

Knowing Thorian held tales and a darkness close to his chest, that even his armor could not shield him from. Feeling piece by piece, little by little she began to strip away what he'd kept others so distant from. His heart.

In reflect to whatever drew him to take the pain away from her thigh, she was drawn his center.

Whispered affections naturally propelled her movements, the caring sweep of her fingers across the thick robe that kept him warm from the whispering swell of the northern cold air. The way her movement mirrored his at times as they navigated Eboncrest with new means.

The bond thrumming excitedly beneath the surface, Andarna looming along the edge, pride within her soft wording as Emmeral's gaze addressed those in passing but always seemed to land on Thorian "Lunara is always right" acknowledgement in expression as the edges of Emmeral's lips twisted at the edges "She always is" Emmeral second.

Ahead as walling began to recognize to their beginnings, Emmeral was veered towards the left instead of continuing forward towards her chamber. A soft exhale of breath and ease to her grip upon his forearm she hadn't known she was clinging to the disinterest of separating ways back for her recovery.

Thorian's presence easing her tired from form and mind as he guided her towards darkened wooden doors that dorned iron in its design, upon unlocking Emmeral was met with another office, her office.

Her mouth falling slightly open in surprise, her hues taking in the surroundings she would hold council within as she released Thorian for a moment, noble history painting the tall shelves that shadowed from the fireplace that softly cackled in the corner, a desk and seating centered and drew importance to the middle of the room, the curtains drawn and tied in meeting the frost bit glass that looked over the Frostgarden, a nook complimenting relaxation needs, a placement Emmeral would find herself seeking upon in the future.

Andarna excitedly prowling about her mind, taking everything in as she took in every detail provided. Even wondering what halls to run down first.

"Hey, no running in the grounds" Emmeral mentally amused to her childlike counterpart, Andarna huffing in defiance before adding "We'll find a good roaming spot where you can run as fast as you want" the amount of times Andarna almost knocked over people with her large form back in the Nightshade Pack amused Emmeral in memory "Do I need to remind you almost sending Gideon to the infirmary knocking him through the wall" Andarna snarled in laughter before silencing herself in healing pain. Both settling in the moment before she physically exhaled in healing breath.

Already in mind some added adjustments she'd like to add in honor of her former life and personal interests "Its..." she was at a loss for words as her mouth remained to open and close with the inability to formulate a sentence fitting for the moment. Her eyes sweeping the room a final time in appreciation before turning and resting on Thorian's "thankyou, I will serve you, the Kin and Lunara hopefully well."

Although she was still becoming accustomed to Thorian's ways, she felt her words met as they would rule together. Individuals whom were powerful before and even moreso now they were together.

Like light and dark meeting.

They would only grow the strength of their people together.

Taking a final moment to appreciate the new space as she would meet those who would aid in leading her in council, glad Aeris would still aid in advising her as she had already seeked her council in more ways since coming here. A pang of distance already threaded within her chest but she ignored it in amusement silently in thought.

Taking his lead once again as Emmeral was thankful her exhaustion was not pressing, feeling a little tired but her footing keeping pace besides Thorian. Finding the slower pace in mutual disinterest to return where they started. 

The way he spoke of 'we' made the bond thrive within its acknowledgement, electricity almost in tease beneath the surface as he guided her back, the adjustment to the colder weather would be one she may dislike being from a warmer part where snow only formed over half the time of year as it had here.

Movement through passages finished at the kitchen, bustling with life and alluring scents that made Emmeral's sights intake all of what was being provided. Enjoying the aromas that lingered upon each section as everyone worked, bowing her head in mutual respect - A soft break of laughter as Marta curtsied, Emmeral mimicking in return before being shown their living quarters, seeing Thorian aided and cared for his people, saw them is extended parts of his family than just those who served. She saw how they did not fear him but stood taller around him, respecting his words and their roles. She prided to always have that part of him remain as noone was lower in care within a pack.

No pathing or pack member put aside, all bare boned for Emmeral to take in, no stone left unturned. Returning through the business of the kitchen as Emmeral voiced appreciation for their work. Around them falling in the back of focus as Thorian addressed the longevity of their travels and her intake, her mouth open and closing just as quickly as she went to protest and proceed but knew she was still healing and to best her recovery she mustn't over exude at times. 

Instead taking a moment to access herself, the thrum of the bond flaring across her skin as if, she, Thorian and the bond were accessing her in silence. Strong and binding before she added with an appreciative smile as his gaze remained steady and his concerns evident in both words and bond "Thankyou, Thor but I am alright," her free hand in brush against the thigh that was touched "Its unexplainable how I am feeling - And I haven't a clue if its you, the bond or both but I can continue for a bit longer" her chin tilting upwards as she asked "May I request a lantern ceremony, in honor of those whom had fallen and help guide their souls to Lunara" a subtle gulp in her throat in added interest "A moment just between us" added reasoning in nervous ramble knowing she needn't reasoning to request anything "I want to thank Lunara for saving me and bringing me here... to you" she awaited to hear his answer, a nervous tighten to her hold upon his forearm as she stared patiently towards him.

[Thorian Thalric]

Thorian felt the weight behind her words before the meaning fully took shape in his mind. Emmeral's request, softly spoken and edged with reverence, was not just for ritual. It was remembrance. A bridge between the past she'd survived and the future she was beginning to claim.

"A moment just between us," she’d added, as if she needed to justify such a thing. As if she needed to justify anything to him.

The bond between them pulsed gently in response—no longer wild and searing, but warm, steady, coiled like quiet flame beneath the skin.

He halted their steps not far from the kitchens now behind them, a quiet passage giving way to a gradual incline that led toward the inner galleries. Overhead, an arch of stone and frost-laced glass framed the beginning curve of the Skywell — not its heart, but close enough for the moonlight to brush down in slender ribbons, painting her face in Lunara’s glow.

Here, it seemed, the Dominion itself hushed for her.

Thorian turned to face her fully.

"You may request anything of me," he said, voice deep, sure, without pause. His gaze held hers, unwavering. "And a lantern ceremony will be arranged—whenever you feel ready."

He reached forward then, slowly, his hand rising not in command but in quiet offering, his fingers grazing the back of hers. "It does not have to be tonight. There is no deadline to grief. No rush to healing. And you owe me no explanations for what your soul needs."

Draco stirred in his chest, his presence a low, contemplative hum.

"She carries the weight of many ghosts." Draco said. 

"As do we." Thorian replied. 

"Then let her walk beside us, not behind." He responded again. 

"She already does." He said to his wolf 

The moment stretched gently between them, unhurried. The kind of silence that spoke louder than most words dared.

"The Skywell will be yours to return to whenever you wish," Thorian continued, his thumb brushing lightly across her knuckles—grounding her, grounding himself. "And when the time comes... it will be only us beneath the stars. Lanterns in hand. Your voices remembered."

He let those words settle as the air around them stilled. The ache he sensed within her was not weakness, but something sacred. Honoring the fallen was not a request. It was a rite.

A rite only someone strong would think to ask for so soon after surviving such loss.

"You do them honor by remembering," he murmured, low and rough with something that caught in his throat before he could temper it.

And still, she looked at him with that same unwavering resolve… and something far gentler tucked behind it. Trust.

A bond not of magic alone—but choice. Will.

He drew in a slow breath and offered his arm to her once more.

“Come,” he said taking her hand into his gently. “There’s still more of your home to see.”

They resumed their stroll, this time not merely out of duty but of quiet yearning—for time. For presence. For each other.

Through hushed corridors, he pointed out subtle engravings etched into stone, lore carved into the very marrow of the Citadel. Some halls bore the marks of victories long past. Others were quiet dedications to the wolves who’d come before—small alcoves with tokens left behind by families, mates, friends.

He kept her close to his side, noting how she walked just slightly nearer than before. Her warmth seeping through the wool layers between them, her steps no longer cautious but purposeful.

"You asked earlier if it’s me, the bond, or both that makes you feel… unexplainable,” Thorian said at last, his tone quieter now, just for her. “Truth is, I’m not certain either. But whatever it is… it’s real.”

A pause.

"And I’m not eager to let it go."

Draco made a sound close to approval. Perhaps even satisfaction.

"She steadies us, as we do her." Draco said proudly. 

"Then let her keep steady. And we will be unshakable." Thorian responded 

Their steps eventually brought them to a balcony that arched out over the northern walls. A single lantern swayed gently in the breeze above, its light golden and soft. Far below, the snow-covered rooftops of the Citadel stretched like a frozen sea.

Thorian stood beside her in the quiet, no longer needing to speak.

It was enough to simply be here, with her.

And when she was ready, he would carry the fire beside her, into the sky, for those they’d lost… and the future they’d yet to shape.

[Emmeral Langley]

The bonds threading, like silk meeting the skin, rested and comforting beneath the surface.

It's presence no longer meddled in a tug-o-war but seared in a strength that drew them towards one another.

Rested within the halls, Eboncrest reverberated life within its stone structure that the cold air whispered against the frostbitten windows as they stood in waited discussion upon her request.

Steadfast within her gaze as she listened to his words, a twitching desire tickled upon the surface of her skin in wake of his touch as reactive to brush her own fingers in connection with his "Thankyou" she eased in assured breath and gratitude.

Andarna present against the edge of her mind, brushing comfort to Emmeral of which she was appreciative of.

Meeting the nights end with disinterest as both Emmeral and Thorian remained in the halls. His caress soothing her to her core as her small aches of body relaxed under his cared caress, unpainted wording formed within her gaze - touched, sorrowed and strong as her thumb caught between it and her index as she gave a momentary squeeze of appreciation "I would like that very much" her sights turning to meet the frosted glass that concealed the outside winds from caressing her warmed flesh "A few nights from now, when I have fully recovered physically. I wish to return and tribute those in honor and guide them home."

Emmeral taught the roughness within his voice, the bond imprisoned a pain unresolved but he could not hide from her, instead of addressing she mirrored his words ensuring both pathed with follow, instead adding we as he was no longer alone "We honor them by remembering"

In offering his arm once more, she held no hesitation to reach as she slipped into his side.

Statement to calling Eboncrest home made the edges of her mouth twist up warmly as they resumed their leisurely walk, her stride by his fortified as walkways becoming familiar within her memory, a few having a feel of familiar but no recall - Had it'd been parted pathing when she was brought in or was Eboncrest surging under her title within its walls, calling her home; every passage enriched with history as she soaked in all its historical factors.

As notion to her feeling unexplained within her healing, of how she felt, Thorian was just at a loss as she was but revelation to trusting that of Lunara, the bond and their future hadn't felt tasked, no impression he was doing this out of survivability to their binding but an acceptance.

His words touching her heart that could be felt within the bond, unable to hide even the smallest of reactive means as she stood strong before him "Maybe we are not destined to perish afterall" she remarked as she seconded his disapproval to letting go.

Although from the start she was accepting of the bond despite his shortness towards it. She never lost faith and strength in her pairing but was hopeful he would see strength in her not her means of being found. She was a well-known warrior, she was not weak.

Their footing slowed to a halt as they reached a balcony that overlooked the land, alive and thriving as their surroundings etched in stillness of frozen structures and surfaces.

Enriched in silence as her gaze wandered across the view, soaking in the beauty of Eboncrest that stung in a moment of remorse and wishfulness that would never be granted.

She removed her hold from his and reached for the balcony's edge, as her palms rested upon the stone edge, snow falling beneath as she slowly inhaled, the ices familiar imprinted against her skin but no longer clung to her warmth.

Her eyes drawn towards the forestry of the Northern wall as it laid still visually, it was the direction of her old pack, no aftermath in site to the smoldering smoke that claimed it to ruins, no rogues, no dark magic in site, untouched.

Her voice softly spoken in spoken words, knowing Thorian could hear "Soon may you rest" turning her head as she stepped away from the balcony, reaching through the bond and physically as she returned to his side "The day is ended, let's go eat" she asked as she awaited his guide, not confident enough to travel the grounds without turning herself around.

[Thorian Thalric]

The quiet that settled around them was not hollow, but whole.

A stillness that hummed through the great stone halls of Eboncrest, thick with breath and memory, as if the Citadel itself held its breath while they stood there in the skywell's shadowed light. The cold tried to claw its way through the ancient glass panes, but Thorian barely felt it. Not when Emmeral’s fingers touched his, soft and assured, anchoring him more thoroughly than any oath ever had.

Her gratitude was unspoken and yet unmistakable. The way she pressed her thumb to the space between them... small, intimate, grounding. A warrior’s gesture in the gentlest form.

"She sees you," Draco murmured, the wolf quiet and reverent for once. "Not just the crown or the war or the walls. You."

And he did not flinch from being seen. Not tonight.

He watched her profile as she looked toward the window, her voice low as she claimed the moment a few nights from now. Not for herself. For the fallen. For those she'd lost. Her strength in waiting—not rushing to grieve, not spilling her pain without purpose... marked her not only as noble, but as someone who truly understood what it meant to carry the weight of lives.

He inclined his head, slow and sure.

“We’ll return, Emmeral,” he said, voice low and promising, like steel beneath velvet. “When your strength is fully your own again, you’ll have the skywell. Lanterns. Fire and wind. All of it.” A pause, then softer, truth laid bare. “And I’ll be at your side.”

He didn’t offer it as a comfort. He meant it.

Her words, “We honor them by remembering,” lingered between them long after they resumed walking, reverberating like a bell through the halls. It was a phrase worthy of being carved into stone.

“She speaks like a queen,” Draco said, satisfaction warm and full in his voice. “But one who’s bled for every word.”

Thorian agreed. He could see it now... not just the strength of her wolf or the depth of her heart, but the inevitable truth that the Dominion would change with her here. The cold halls would thaw. The people would breathe easier. And he… he might one day do the same.

As they walked, her steps remained steady at his side, her body not quite leaning into his anymore... but not pulling away either. She’d already begun to memorize the halls, their history filtering into her bones, her gaze flickering to plaques and carvings with a silent hunger to know. To belong.

And she did.

He didn’t need to say it. The bond pulsed steadily, affirming what she already felt: You are home.

Then she spoke... quiet, a wry twist to her voice, but layered with something more. “Maybe we are not destined to perish after all.”

He exhaled slowly through his nose, not quite a laugh, but close. “Not yet,” he murmured. “Lunara has other plans, it seems.”

Plans neither of us could’ve foreseen.

There had been times he’d cursed the goddess for her silence. For leaving him to drown beneath duty and blood and frost. But now… her will had teeth and timing. And somehow, that timing had led Emmeral to him. That thought was equal parts terrifying and humbling.

They slowed, and when they halted entirely before the high-arched balcony overlooking the Dominion, Thorian didn’t rush the moment. The world stretched before them, silvered in moonlight and ice, vast and proud.

He didn’t need to look at her to feel the shift in her thoughts.

Her hand slipped from his as she stepped to the railing, the snow-glazed edge kissed by her palms. She stared toward the north... toward what once was. The place that birthed her, shaped her, and was now gone.

He remained still, a quiet sentinel behind her.

And when her voice broke through the hush... “Soon may you rest”... the words felt less like a farewell and more like a promise. Not just to her fallen pack. But to herself. To the past.

He bowed his head slightly, as though in silent salute to those she spoke of, letting her lead the moment. He did not rush her grief. He honored it. Carried it beside her without needing to hold it in his hands.

When she returned, her warmth brushed his side once more, her hand slipping back into the crook of his arm like it had always belonged there. It struck him again how natural this felt... how, even in their silence, there was understanding.

Her eyes met his, tired but full of will, and her words were light but steady: “The day is ended. Let’s go eat.”

His lips lifted slightly, warmth curling deep in his chest.

“Come then,” he said, voice rich as they began walking once more. “Before Marta sends someone to hunt us down and scold us both for letting her supper go cold.”

Draco huffed in amusement. “She’s fiercer than some of your generals.”

“She’s earned it.” Thorian chuckled silently to his wolf, then glanced at Emmeral.

“You’ll find she rules the kitchen with more command than I rule the throne room,” he added aloud. “But she’s already taken a liking to you. That may just save us both.”

Their footsteps echoed in easy rhythm now... no longer strangers navigating stone, but two souls learning the shape of home through each other’s presence.

And beneath the weight of the mountain, the Citadel did not feel quite so cold.