Chapter 40 – "Blood of the Wolf"
The world narrowed to the taste of blood and the scent of fear.
Cregan Stark's boots struck the blood-soaked stones as he entered the fray. His eyes, red with the fury of the old wolf blood, found Lyanna trembling behind the broken stall, her tiny hands clutching Shadow's fur. One of his men lay groaning nearby, another pulled the girl and wolf further to safety.
The sight shattered whatever fragile control he had clung to.
His blood howled.
The wolf had risen.
He unsheathed his Valyrian blade—black steel gleaming like moonlight devouring darkness—and surged into battle. His first swing cut through a Lannister's shoulder, cleaving past gilded armor as if it were parchment. The second disemboweled another man trying to raise his shield. The third strike cracked through helm and bone alike.
The Lannisters were dying. And now, their lion had seen the shadow that hunts in winter.
---
Jaime's Thoughts
Jaime Lannister had seen countless battles. He had faced men bigger than him, faster than him, more brutal than him. But as he watched the Stark cut through his men like a reaper in harvest, he knew something primal was at work.
That's not just a lord, Jaime thought. That's a storm in a man's skin.
He stepped forward, drawing his sword with a hiss. "Cregan! Stop this madness!"
Cregan didn't even look at him. He was already moving, already slashing.
Another Lannister screamed and fell, ribs shattered. Jaime grit his teeth and charged.
Their swords met with a sound like thunder.
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Wolves vs. Lions – The Battle Unfolds
The clash of steel filled the market. Blood soaked into velvet stalls and silken carpets. Crates of fruit were crushed under boots and bodies.
From the City Watch's side:
"He's fighting beside us! The commander's in!"
"Don't let them touch the girl!"
"For Frosthall!"
From the Lannisters:
"Pull back! Gods, this isn't a city watch, it's a fucking war pack!"
"We have the numbers! They're just dogs in armor!"
"Then why are we the ones dying?!"
Garnen, blood trickling into his eyes, gutted a Lannister trying to flank him.
Roff, using his left hand with his sword arm wounded, buried a dagger into a man's thigh and pulled his helmet off with a snarl.
Lannister gold was trampled under Stark black.
---
The Duel – Cregan vs. Jaime
Their blades danced. Jaime was faster, more practiced, but Cregan was relentless. Each of his strikes was a killing blow, hammering with brute precision. Jaime had to sidestep, dodge, roll back, parry with the flat.
"Fight me like a knight, Stark!" Jaime shouted, breathless.
"I'm not a knight," Cregan growled. "I'm a wolf."
Jaime tried to feint right—Cregan saw it and slashed left. Jaime barely caught the blow, but it dented his pauldron.
Jaime thought: He fights like the mountain, but with a tactician's mind. He's not just rage. He's war.
Cregan thought: His sword sings. He's dancing. I need to break the rhythm.
He drove Jaime back, step after step. The Lannister parried again, only for Cregan to pivot and strike low, cutting into his thigh.
Jaime cursed. His sword arm flared in pain.
Then Cregan's black blade came down—and shattered Jaime's sword in half.
The lion's eyes widened. For a breath, the killing blow came.
Jaime twisted, rolled, and grabbed a fallen soldier's blade just in time. He rose, panting.
"This is madness," Jaime spat.
Cregan's eyes were beyond reason. The wolf blood was in full command.
---
Lyanna's POV
From behind the stall, Lyanna trembled. She clutched Shadow's fur and peeked out.
She saw her uncle, her fierce, loving uncle, become something else.
Not a man. Not a lord.
A beast.
She'd never seen him like this. Not when men insulted him. Not when he scolded her. Not even in their long talks by the fire.
Shadow growled low, ears flat. He could sense the rage too.
Lyanna whispered, "Please come back, Uncle. Please."
She wasn't afraid for her safety anymore.
She was afraid for him.
---
The Turning Point
Cregan struck Jaime's shoulder, drawing blood. Jaime staggered, eyes wide in pain. The Lannister cloak was torn, and the ground at his feet was slick.
All around them, the City Watch was winning.
"Fall back!" one Lannister guard shouted.
"We can't! The prince is watching!"
"Then we die?!"
Lannister morale cracked. Some broke formation. Others tried to retreat, only to be cut down by watchmen fighting with brutal efficiency.
Cregan raised his blade again. He would end this. End Jaime. He lunged.
And then—
"ENOUGH!"
The cry echoed through the square.
A force of twenty men in silver and sky-blue plate pushed into the market. Valemen. At their front rode Lord Jon Arryn, face pale and furious.
"STOP THIS!"
The combat froze. But only for a moment.
Cregan stood over Jaime, blade raised. His chest heaved. Eyes red. Hair clinging to his face with blood and sweat.
Jon rode closer. "Cregan Stark! I command you as Hand of the King!"
The Black Wolf didn't move. His men remained ready, forming ranks, swords still drawn.
"I know what happened. I know," Jon said more gently. "But this is not what Ned would do."
Cregan's breath hitched.
Jon continued, voice softer. "I am not your enemy. I raised your father when your grandfather could not. Would you strike me down, Cregan?"
The words cut deeper than steel.
Cregan looked at Jon. Looked at Jaime. Looked at Lyanna.
He exhaled. The rage faded.
He lowered his sword.
"Stand down," he ordered. Voice still ragged.
The City Watch obeyed.
---
The Aftermath Begins
Silence took the square. The dead were many.
The wounded groaned.
The battle had ended.
But the war it unleashed was only just beginning.
---
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