Fenrik Ashvain was standing before his own pack when he publicly rejected the woman carrying his children.

The assassin moved with unnatural, liquid speed, a phantom born of dark magic.

Targeting the cradle with lethal precision, the blade descended toward the infant swaddled in soft furs. But the assassin had underestimated the maternal instincts of a primordial bloodline.

Before Fenrik could even leap across the room, Revna moved.

A blinding flash of golden light erupted from her free hand, shooting across the nursery like a streak of lightning. The golden beam struck the assassin mid-air, throwing the intruder violently against the stone wall with a sickening crunch.

The assassin slumped to the floor, gasping for air, the dark dagger clattering harmlessly against the flags.

"You missed," Revna’s voice was ice-cold, devoid of any human warmth. She handed the sleeping infant safely to Fenrik, who caught the bundle with expert care, his other hand baring his claws as he cornered the fallen intruder.

"Who sent you?" Fenrik demanded, his voice vibrating with lethal menace as he grabbed the assassin by the collar of his black tunic and hauled him off the floor. "Was it Vane Kale?"

The assassin let out a raspy, broken laugh, blood bubbling at the corner of his lips. "The Kales... are just the beginning, Ashvain. You think you've won the north? The shadow has already taken root in your own outer wards. The poison... is already in the well."

With a final, violent shudder, the assassin’s body went limp. The dark magic sustaining him dissipated into thin air, leaving behind only the acrid smell of burnt sulfur.

Fenrik dropped the corpse to the floor, his jaw tightening into a hard line. "The outer well. If they poisoned the water supply, half the pack will be down by morning."

"No," Revna said, walking over to him, her golden eyes blazing with a fierce, protective light. "They didn't just poison the water. They wanted us to find this body. It’s a distraction."