The Cursed Alpha’s Mute Bride – Episode 13
The Wolfhart message lay open on Hunter’s desk, its red wax seal broken cleanly in two. Rain pressed against the council chamber windows while the words waited like a challenge beneath the lamplight. Guards had delivered identical copies to the Silver Moon Elders and every border outpost, ensuring Gertrude’s threat could not be dismissed as a private quarrel.
Return Wren Wolfhart immediately. Failure to comply will be treated as an act of war.
Clay stood across the desk with both hands braced against a map. Red markers showed movement along three roads leading out of Eclipse territory. “Wolfhart Elders are gathering warriors near the eastern border. They expect us to surrender her before nightfall.”
Hunter read the demand a second time, then let out a cold laugh. “They cast her out as a rogue in front of witnesses. Now they claim she remains a member of their ruling family?”
Wren stood near the window with Mara beside her. She recognized Gertrude’s angular signature beneath the council seal. Even without reading every word, she knew what the letter demanded, and the knowledge turned her new room upstairs into something fragile.
Her former family had never wanted her. Gertrude denied her place at the table, Anneliese treated her love as an embarrassment, and the pack wagered on how quickly she would die. Why threaten war to bring her back now?
Hunter’s golden eyes darkened with the same suspicion. “This is not about Wren,” he said. “It is about whatever secret they believe left Wolfhart Castle with her.” Gertrude had treated Wren as disposable until a healer examined her curse and a powerful mate stood beside her. The timing exposed a fear more urgent than wounded pride.
The mark beneath Wren’s collarbone pulsed. She remembered the symbol that appeared in Elara’s crystal: an ancient crescent surrounding a white stone. Gertrude’s forbidden magic and this sudden demand could not be separate accidents.
Hunter crossed the room and offered Wren the letter. She read it slowly, refusing to let her hands shake. Then she returned it and signed a single answer: No.
Pride warmed the mate bond. Hunter did not speak for her until she had made the choice herself. “You will never have to answer to them again,” he said.
He carried the letter to the fireplace. Flames consumed Gertrude’s signature first, then curled through the threat until the parchment collapsed into ash. Wren watched the last red fragment blacken, uncertain whether she felt liberated or terrified.
Heavy knocks sounded at the council chamber door. A palace guard entered and bowed. “Alpha, a delegation from the Wolfhart Pack has crossed the outer gate under a truce banner. They demand to see Lady Wren.”
Hunter looked toward Wren. She could return to her room, but hiding would allow the envoys to speak about her as if she were absent. Wren lifted her chin and moved to stand beside him.
“Bring them to the great hall,” Hunter ordered. “Keep warriors at every entrance. No one touches her.”
Silver Moon wolves gathered along the hall walls as three Wolfhart envoys entered. Their rain-dark cloaks carried the Eclipse crest, a symbol that still stirred an ache in Wren despite everything done beneath it. She remembered stitching that same crescent onto festival banners as a child, proud of a heritage she had not yet learned could be weaponized against her.
The lead envoy was Elder Matthias, one of the men who had toasted Anneliese’s engagement and remained silent during Wren’s banishment. He glanced at her with open contempt before offering Hunter a shallow bow.
“Alpha Silver, you have taken property that belongs to the Wolfhart Pack,” Matthias said. The word echoed through the stone chamber, stripping Wren of personhood as casually as Gertrude once stripped away her name.
Hunter’s aura exploded across the room. Lamps flickered, and every envoy stepped back before instinct forced them to lower their eyes. Silver Moon warriors bared their teeth at the insult.
“Wren is not property,” Hunter said with lethal calm. “She is not a bargaining piece, a servant, or a possession discarded until useful. She is my mate.”
The declaration stunned the envoys despite the rumors that had already crossed the border. Wren felt it move through the gathered pack as well. Hunter was not merely sheltering a rogue; he had named her before his people and hers.
