The Terror Triad (1)
The steward led her through corridors that smelled like cold stone and old smoke.
Iron sconces lined the walls, casting shadows that moved like living things. Servants pressed themselves flat against the stone as they passed, their eyes sliding away from Riana's white funeral cloth. No one spoke. The only sound was the steward's boots on stone and Riana's bare feet, silent as a ghost.
They walked for ten minutes through the fortress's depths before the corridor opened into something vast.
The Ritual Hall.
Riana stopped at the threshold, and the steward's hand pressed light against her back—not pushing, just indicating. She stepped forward alone.
The hall stretched before her like the inside of a mountain. Vaulted ceiling lost in shadow. Walls lined with mounted skulls—wolf skulls, massive and ancient, their eye sockets dark and judging. Three hundred wolves filled the space in perfect formation: soldiers in black armor, advisors in dark furs, high-ranking pack members arranged by status.
All of them watching.
All of them silent.
At the far end, a raised platform stood before a hearth tall enough to walk into. Fire roared inside it, casting the platform in red-gold light.
Three men waited.
Brothers.
Even from across the hall, Riana could see the family resemblance in their builds, their stances, the way they held themselves like violence barely leashed.
She walked the center aisle.
Her white cloth stark against black stone. Every eye tracked her approach. The weight of their attention pressed against her skin like physical touch, but Riana kept her gaze forward, counting her steps.
Fifty-seven steps from threshold to platform.
At fifty-eight, she stopped at the base of the three stone stairs leading up to where the brothers stood.
The eldest stood at center.
Tall. Broad-shouldered. Dark formal attire that looked military despite the lack of insignia. His scent hit her first—sharp ozone that made her eyes water, like the air before lightning strikes. Ice-gray eyes tracked her with the focus of a predator calculating weak points.
Marius Kaelen. The Mind.
His posture was military-perfect. Hands clasped behind his back. Not a single unnecessary movement. He looked at her the way someone looks at a contract clause, calculating value and liability in the same glance.
His eyes dismissed her as worthless in three seconds.
To his right stood the second brother.
Shorter than Marius by two inches but far more dangerous in the way fire is more dangerous than ice. Fighting leathers instead of formal attire. Burnt pine and smoke rolled off him in waves, filling her lungs with heat. His grin was wolfish as he circled her the moment she reached the platform's edge.
Cyrus Kaelen. The Fist.
He leaned in close, inhaling deeply at her neck.
At her hair.
At her wrists.
His nose nearly touched her skin as he searched for something he would never find.
"Nothing." He stepped back, scoffing. "She's defective."
His voice carried across the silent hall. A few soldiers shifted. No one laughed, but the contempt rippled through the assembled wolves like wind through grass.
To Marius's left stood the third brother.
The youngest, but somehow the most unsettling. Devastatingly handsome in rich furs that made him look like royalty instead of a warrior. Sweet cedar scent, warm and inviting, completely at odds with the cold calculation in his dark eyes. His smile reached his lips but stopped there, perfectly formed and utterly hollow.
Torin Kaelen. The Face.
"Our little ghost," he said softly, and his voice was silk over steel.
Marius moved.
He retrieved a steel-bound box from a podium beside the hearth and opened it with practiced precision. The Blood Contract lay inside, parchment marked with three signatures already dried to black.
He lifted it and read aloud.
His voice echoed through the hall, cold and clear.
"By the terms agreed upon between the Sunstone Pack and the Frost-Blood Dominion, one bride is offered as territorial compensation and alliance bond. Said bride, Riana of Sunstone lineage, is hereby transferred as property acquired, shared asset, and binding symbol of treaty compliance."