Chapter 6 - THE MARCH TO THE SOUTH
The royal vanguard moved like a black tide across the frozen plains of Ethalgard.
At the head of the column rode King Bram upon his massive stallion, his dark cloak billowing in the crisp winter wind. Riding right beside him, clad in custom-fitted silver-and-black studded leather armor designed to protect her growing form, was Gwendolyn. Her long dark hair was braided neatly back, and her amber eyes scanned the horizon with the cold, calculating grace of a true Luna.
Behind them marched three thousand elite royal guards and a pack of fifty colossal direwolves, their synchronized footfalls shaking the frozen earth beneath them.
Gwendolyn took a deep breath, feeling the crisp, pine-scented air fill her lungs. Inside her, the royal pup pulsed with a warm, steady heartbeat that matched the rhythm of her own mount. She no longer felt like the broken, helpless prisoner of the Redmond Pack. Every mile they traveled south felt like a physical reclaiming of her soul.
“You’re quiet today,” Bram murmured, turning his head slightly to look at her, his golden eyes softening with an intimacy reserved only for her.
Gwendolyn offered him a small, fierce smile. “I was just thinking about the last time I crossed this valley, Bram. Five weeks ago, I was crawling through the snow, freezing and half-dead, believing my life was over.”
Bram reined in his horse slightly, forcing the column to slow its pace as he reached out to clasp her gloved hand in his. His grip was warm, strong, and unshakeable.
“You will never walk alone in the snow again, Gwendolyn,” Bram said, his voice deep and absolute. “From this day forward, any path you walk will be paved in gold and guarded by my sword.”
Before Gwendolyn could reply, the sharp sound of a horn cut through the crisp air from the front of the column.
Toot. Toot.
Commander Vance spurred his warhorse backward down the line, pulling to a halt in front of the King and Queen, his face set in hard lines.
“My King! My Lady!” Vance reported crisply. “Our advance scouts have intercepted a scouting party from House Vane. They are attempting to flank us through the Whispering Pass.”
Bram’s expression darkened instantly, the golden light in his eyes flaring with lethal intent. “House Vane. Arthur Redmond’s hired dogs think they can ambush a royal column?”
“They are trying to cut our supply lines and draw us into a bottleneck,” Vance warned.
Gwendolyn’s eyes narrowed. She recognized the strategy. It was a coward’s tactic, entirely typical of Arthur Redmond and his desperate allies.
“Bram,” Gwendolyn said, her voice steady and commanding. “Let me lead the right flank with the direwolves. They think I am still the weak, broken woman they threw into the snow. Let us show them how wrong they were.”
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Bram stared at her for a long moment, watching the fierce, unyielding light burning in her amber eyes. A slow, proud smile spread across his chiseled face.
“As you command, my Queen,” Bram replied, leaning over to press a fierce kiss to her knuckles. “Show them no mercy.”
