Draegon sat still, the letter open in his hand, its sharp words like knives in his chest. His face was unreadable, but his eyes had darkened, and his lips had thinned into a flat line. Valen stood at a distance, watching her father's eyes scan the same line repeatedly.
Immediately after getting Gray's letter, they went in search of him again, as Seraphim urgently requested.
Seraphim's voice broke through the tense silence. "No... No! This can't be! Draegon, you know too well that we can not do this! We can not allow it. This is a disaster, a huge one at that."
She grabbed the letter from Draegon with trembling hands, reading its hateful message for herself.
To all Alphas and Leaders of neighboring territories under the rule of the Crown, prepare. The Lycanis will be arriving within three days. One male child from each household will be chosen. Resistance will not be tolerated.
Her hand flew to her mouth. "They're taking children... they're taking our sons..."
She turned to Draegon. "We can't allow this. We can't let them touch Valen. Not her... not our daughter. I won't allow her to leave. You know how these people are, don't you? You know how devilish they are. Even if we didn't have a daughter, but a son instead, no mother would open their eyes and let their child get eaten by these insane people."
Tears streamed down her cheeks as she sank to the floor, rocking slightly. "They think she is a man. They will take her. They'll take her to that devilish place. If they find out that she isn't who we are presenting her to be, we are dead! They might kill her! I know what it took me to get this child, Draegon. Why now?" She cried bitterly.
Draegon knelt beside her, pulling her into his arms. His own heart was weighed down, but he kept his voice steady. "They won't take her. I won't let them."
"But what if they find out? What if they know she's not—"
"They won't," Draegon interrupted gently. "She is stronger than them all. No one will question it. And even if they did—Valen is not going anywhere."
Seraphim clung to him, her tears soaking into his shirt. Her sobs grew softer until, eventually exhausted, she fell asleep in his arms. Draegon carried her gently to their bed and covered her. Then he returned to the room, only to find Valen waiting silently by the fireplace.
"She's asleep," he said softly.
Valen nodded, her face unreadable. "What are you going to do now, Father? You promised her I wouldn't go."
Draegon ran a tired hand over his face. "I honestly don't know yet. But I'll find something. I always do."
Valen studied him closely. "Why don't you let me go? You've trained me for this. You made me strong. I'm not afraid."
Draegon turned sharply toward her. "No. I didn't train you for this. I didn't raise you so you could fall into the hands of the Lycanis."
"Then what did you raise me for? I am no less than a man now, Father."
"It still doesn't mean you are not a woman. I raised you to protect yourself," he replied, stepping closer. "To protect your mother. To protect this pack. I trained you so that the world would never be able to use your true identity against you. I never meant for you to walk straight into the fire."
Valen's throat tightened. She turned away before he could see the flicker of conflict in his eyes. The fire crackled quietly between them.
"You think I can't survive them," she said finally.
"Valen, please don't twist this around. I know you can survive, but that's not the point. I won't let you live in a place where your life no longer belongs to you. That's not survival, Valen. That's surrender, and these people, just like your mother said, are devilish, and I would be so wicked to let go of your hand."
The room grew still again. "You don't have to worry about anything or anyone, okay? I will have it sorted out. You can go to bed and sleep."
Valen gave a short nod, then walked toward her chamber. The weight of her father's words pressed down on her chest.
Inside her room, Valen lit a small lantern and pulled out the scrolls and notes she had hidden away under her bed. She began to scan through them—tales of the Lycanis, legends, old stories whispered among elders, and ancient writings passed through the pack's oral history.
She jotted things down.
Ever since she stumbled across the real reason why she was brought up like a man and not the way she had seen an ordinary girl being brought up, she had started to dig deep into these people and why they terrified people so much.
The Lycanis were not just a group of rogue wolves. They were different. Their strength was tied to something older, darker—something that had been passed through bloodlines. There were stories about how they took male children to indoctrinate them, break them, and turn them into soldiers who obeyed without thought.
She shivered.
Valen leaned back, thinking. Her mind drifted to her father. He didn't have a plan this time around like he always had. She had seen it in his eyes. He was lost in thought, running in circles.
She knew what his only real solution would be. He would surrender himself.
Her chest tightened. Now she understood why he said that the real reason he had trained her was because he wanted her to protect her mum and everyone else, and this was because he would be gone in her stead.
He had planned it out already.
He would offer himself to the Lycanis in her place. He would claim he had no son, only himself, a male of the house, fit to be taken. It was a noble plan. Brave.
But it was also foolish.
Valen stood and paced. Her father couldn't go. The pack needed him. Her mother needed him. She needed him.
She stopped and looked at herself in the mirror. Her face, her stance—everything about her screamed warrior. The world saw a man. Her body carried the strength of her father, the focus of her mother, and the fury of the truth buried within her.
"I can't let him go," she whispered. "I can't let anyone else go."
Her fists clenched. "I have to do something."
She returned to her desk, spreading out all the pages, all the facts. What made the Lycanis so powerful? Was it only strength? Was it a bloodline? Rituals? Was there a way to stop them? Or at least to weaken them from within?
The stories said they lived by rules—strict, ancient codes that even they could not break. Maybe that was her key. Maybe there was a flaw hidden somewhere in their customs. Maybe there was a chance.
Valen's eyes scanned every corner of the pages, and when her eyes grew tired, she didn't stop. She kept searching, kept reading. Time passed unnoticed.
The candle flickered lower.
Outside, the night grew colder.
But inside, Valen's fire only burned hotter.
She would not wait for her father to find a solution. She would not wait for the Lycanis to come knocking.
If no one could save them... she would.
She whispered to herself as she closed the door behind her:
"They've chosen the wrong pack."