Chapter 10 - THE SILVER CROWN
One year later, the snows of Ironwood Ridge melted into a brilliant, cascading spring of wildflowers, crystal-clear streams, and emerald-green valleys.
The border stones of Oak Haven no longer marked a line of fear and oppression; they were now a peaceful meeting point where southern traders and northern clans exchanged goods, stories, and laughter under the shared protection of a unified crown.
High above the valleys, in the majestic stone citadel of Vargenhaven, the great Great Hall was filled with music, feasting, and the bright ringing of silver goblets.
At the head of the long obsidian table sat King Akira, his silver eyes warm and bright as he watched the bustling hall. Standing beside him, dressed in a gown of deep emerald silk embroidered with silver threads in the pattern of a crowned wolf, was Rosalind.
She wasn't just the healer of Oak Haven anymore. She was the Queen of the North—a woman who had reached into the jaws of death to pull out a king, and in doing so, had rewritten the destiny of two worlds.
Akira stood, lifting his silver goblet high. The music faded into a respectful, affectionate hush across the hall.
"To the healers who mend our wounds," Akira said, his deep voice carrying clearly to every corner of the stone chamber as his silver-and-gold gaze locked onto Rosalind with infinite tenderness. "And to the courage that turns winter into spring."
"To the Queen!" General Vanya shouted, raising her own goblet high.
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"To the Queen!" roared the entire northern pack in unison, the sound echoing proudly off the ancient granite walls and out across the blooming mountain peaks, where the wild wolves ran free beneath a bright, endless sky.
Rosalind smiled, placing her hand gently over Akira’s as he pulled her close against his side. The dark days of blood and frost were gone, and as she looked out across the valley where her new life had begun, she knew that their story—and their peace—had only just begun.
