The storm swallowed Egranox whole.

Snow hammered the citadel walls, turning the already white city outside Reyna’s windows into a silent white blur. Inside her quarters, the quiet was almost suffocating.

The quilts on her walls, stitched by her mother and grandmother, softened the room, but nothing softened the restless thrum under her skin.

She dropped into her seat at the small dining table, pushing cold mushrooms around her plate. Supper sat untouched. Her mind was still back in Silver Oak, back with Roth Maynord’s arrogance.

The audacity.

Her jaw tightened as the words replayed in her head. You’re only a Prime.

They clung to her ribs like barbed hooks. Every time she blinked, they slithered through her thoughts like a taunt.

Reyna shoved her plate aside.

Her quarter was small, but it was hers, which was a luxury in the Mithril Obelisk. A carved wooden chest held the pieces from her training days: a cracked spear from her first Howler sparring match; her trial armband, still stained with dried blood; a tiny figurine Bandos gave her when she was fourteen, telling her she’d one day “earn her teeth.”

Back then, she believed him.

Now, the figurine mocked her from the chest’s corner.

A gust of wind rattled the windows. Frostcall storms never unnerved her, but tonight the howl carried warning. Icehelms whispered that Fenrir ran through storms like these, shaking truth loose from the world.

Reyna stared at the swirling snow. “What are you hiding?”

The storm stayed silent.

A soft knock broke through her thoughts.

Tharja stepped inside, balancing a small jug. “Prime, dessert? Honey hoppers, fresh from the hearth.”

Reyna blinked as if waking from a trance. “No, Tharja. Go rest.”

“Yes, Prime.” Tharja slipped out, careful footsteps fading down the hall.

Reyna leaned back, rubbing her temples. Alpha Roth should’ve been at the citadel hours ago. Instead, he’d been skulking through Silver Oak with three Omegas and no explanation. Why had Roth shown up without proper escort, without fanfare, without protocol?

She could still feel the pressure of that ten feet between them. A tautness like the moment before a blade strike. The way he looked at her as if he’d caught sight of a truth she hadn’t meant to show.

She hated that thought.

The storm rumbled again, rattling her windowpanes. Frostcall storms always carried meaning. She’d grown up reading them the way Redfalls read roots or Highthaws read fire. Tonight felt like a sky holding its breath.

Before she could stand, a violent knock shook her door. A familiar scent, vetiver, hit her senses like a warning.

Great.

She opened the door.

Warmaster Bandos Moltenroar filled the doorway like a mountain brought to life. He took one look at her and marched inside without a word. His boots thudded against the floorboards, shaking the small room.

Two Fangs followed, but Reyna lifted a hand. “Hold.”

They obeyed instantly. She shut the door behind her, sealing herself inside with the Warmaster’s fury.

Bandos turned slowly, eyes blazing. “Tell me you didn’t incite an argument with the Alpha of our kingdom and his entourage.”

Reyna exhaled once. She was barefoot and wrapped in a simple lilac gown, hair unbound. She refused to shrink. “I did not,” she said roughly.

“Don’t lie to me, girl!” His voice cracked like thunder.

Same old Bandos. Always assuming she’d done the reckless thing. Never stopping to ask why a situation had happened in the first place.

Reyna swallowed the immediate urge to bare her teeth. “Warmaster. You know me better than that. I don’t provoke pointless fights.”

He paced, fingers twitching at his sides. His fur-lined jacket strained against his shoulders, the Moltenroar crest glinting on his chest. Reyna watched him silently, knowing his rage wasn’t aimed at her. Not entirely.

He was rattled.

“I heard you challenged an Omega,” Bandos said. “I heard he nearly killed you. I heard you nearly killed him. And that the Alpha watched.”

"A lot of 'I heard'." Reyna’s nostrils flared. “They tried to ambush me on my own border. I identified myself. They still attacked.”

Bandos stopped pacing. “You didn’t mention that in the report.”

“I haven’t filed the report yet.”

His jaw ticked. “Their version claims you escalated.”

Reyna barked a dry laugh. “Of course it does. You believe them?”

“Reyna…” Bandos scrubbed a hand over his beard. “Belief isn’t the problem. The House of Maynord claims insult. The Krelon Council is watching. The solstice rites begin tomorrow. We cannot afford a diplomatic incident.”

“What you call diplomacy,” she shot back, “looks a lot like me kneeling.”

“That is how this kingdom works!” he snapped, pounding a fist into his palm. “He’s the Alpha. You’re a Prime. You should have bowed.”

A cold pulse rippled through her chest. Anguish layered under fury. “I’m the only female Fang to ever reach this rank. I earned every shard of it with blood and grit. And you—” her voice cracked with anger she couldn’t leash—“expect me to kneel? After everything?”

“You don’t understand what’s at stake.”

“I understand this: if I’d been any other Fang, one of those Redfalls would have torn my head off! And then what? A letter of condolence?”

Bandos stepped closer, looming. “You must apologize to the Alpha.”

Reyna stared at him, stunned. “Absolutely not.”

“It’s not a request.”

“Then order someone else to grovel,” she spat. “Because I won’t. They trespassed, and assaulted me. I did my job.”

“And the kingdom will fall apart if you don’t do yours now!”

Reyna’s Ember ability sparked under her skin, heat pulsing in her throat, her palms, her spine. She sucked in a breath, grounding herself before the fire broke free.

“By Odin’s balls, Bandos,” she growled, “show some damn support for once. I’m out there fighting, protecting Frostcall while everyone else hides under the cloak of ranks. And you want me to bow?” She stepped into his space, eyes steel. “Tell Alpha Roth, if he wants an apology, to pry it from my corpse.”

Bandos’s gaze hardened, heavy with authority and a lot more. Fear, pride, guilt, all knotted together.

Seconds stretched, taut as a bowstring as she waited for his verdict. But she didn't have high hopes.

Finally, he exhaled and stepped back. “Get into your uniform. You’re joining me in the Grand Hall.”

Reyna’s pulse thundered.

“That wasn’t a suggestion,” he added.

He marched to the door, pulled it open, then paused, frozen in a moment that felt centuries old.

He didn’t look back when he said, “Reyna. Do not make this harder than it has to be.”

Then he was gone.

Silence flooded in behind him.

Reyna stood rooted, fists clenched, Ember barely contained under her skin. The storm outside howled like a warning.

“Some father,” she muttered under her breath.

And for the first time that night, the cold finally reached her.