Black clouds roll in and the sky only opens up to weep along with the wolves. From my window, I watch the procession of mourning wolves carry Noble’s father to his final resting place. My heated breath falls onto the cold window and fogs it. I trace a finger over it, leaving a small mark in a world I don’t belong.

It’s been three days since my wedding day. Three days since the death of Noble’s father. Three days since Noble became king, thereby making me the future queen after my coronation. Three days since I’ve seen my husband.

Three days since I wrote my letter to Crede that Winnie delivered.

Winnie has kept true to her word and she has become my only friend in this lonely realm. She’s visited me every day and keeps me company when everyone else in Winter keeps their distance.

I haven’t had word from my family back in Summer, but after Winnie visited briefly with Crede she was able to reassure me they’re well. They’re worried about me, but otherwise fine. I have no other choice but to trust her, so I do. She hasn’t given me any reason to believe she has ulterior motives and maybe it’s naïve of me to have faith in her after such a short while, but I trust her. More, I need to trust her, to trust someone.

From my vantage point, I have a clear view of Noble. The dark shadows beneath his eyes, the lines that mar his face, the rigidity of his posture. He speaks to someone and when a female stands beside him and takes his hand, interlacing their fingers, I freeze. Unable to move, to breathe.

As if he senses me, he turns in my direction and when he brings the female’s fingers to his lips, I force myself to look away. I cling onto the window drapes and hold myself together, so I don’t fall apart where he can see me.

Even dressed in the clothes Winnie brought me, I’m cold. Never had I imagined just how frigid Winter could actually be.

“That was quite the display,” Winnie says, breaking me from my trance and I jerk in her direction. “Even grief does not give him an excuse to act in such a foolish manner. Stupid wolf.”

I shudder. “When did you get here?”

“Not long.” She shrugs. “Long enough to know you need to go outdoors.”

“You Spring animals are sneaky,” I say, trying to deter the conversation.

“We need to be sneaky around you predatory-types.” She grins, exposing two large front teeth.

“As if I’d eat a cute little bunny like yourself.”

Her eyes roll skyward, and she crosses her arms over her chest. “I have a letter for you. From Crede.”

My body stills, all the nervous energy I’ve garnered in the past three days suddenly gone, leaving me exhausted.

“Can I have it?” I ask, my voice shaking along with my limbs.

Blackness ebbs, the room tilting on its axis and I sink to the floor. I rest my head against the wall and clutch a hand to my churning stomach. Winnie sits beside me and places a small hand on my knee.

“I’ve already read it,” she whispers.

I close my eyes, already knowing I’ll hate her response. “And?”

“It isn’t good. If Noble were to know about this.” From beside me, I feel her shake her head. “We can’t tell him about this letter. And you can’t write back to Crede.”

Blood drains from my face and I swallow hard. “Can I have the letter, Winnie?”

She sighs and hands it to me. My fingers quake as I unfold the paper. Immediately I recognize Crede’s elegant handwriting.

My dearest Liana, I do not know the answer to your question. I don’t know if anyone else had a part in the king wolf’s death. As you requested, I’ve asked discreetly, but if anyone knows anything, my lady, they are not speaking. But neither are we grieving for a king we had no allegiance to. We do grieve for you, though. Your fierceness is missed, and I promise you, I am doing everything to bring you back home. Yours faithfully, Crede

The weight of his words falls heavy on my soul and I crumble the paper. Unappeased, I tear into it, spearing through his words, through the scent of our pride’s sins on the small piece of paper. He doesn’t care about a wolf’s death, and he doesn’t care if others in our pride conspired for it.

Remorse smears over my skin and I rub my arms with harsh strokes of my hands to warm my frozen body. Still I can’t scrub away the ugliness, the disease that flows through my veins, because my pride – we did this. If not in execution, then in our disinterest.

Winnie takes the torn piece of paper from my grasp, wads it into a tight ball and tosses it toward the trash bin, missing by at least a foot. “Outside,” she demands, pulling me to my feet. “They’ll be gone for a few hours. You need to stretch your legs.”

“Shall we change form?” I try to joke to lighten my mood, but it falls deafly to my own ears. “You can scurry away in your little bunny self while I chase after you.”

“Ha ha,” she says dryly.

Walking to my closet, she takes out a coat that she helps me into. She clasps her hand around my arm, which is still tender from when Noble grabbed me, and guides me to the door. Although I know I should put up more of a fight, I follow because Winnie’s right. I need some fresh air. I need to not be holed up between the four walls of my self-made prison. I need to be free of my thoughts and the inner turmoil Crede’s message brings me.

I need to find the desire and the courage to face my husband, my king, and come clean of the guilt that’s been eating at me. Not knowing what my fate will be after I tell him Arlo killed his father on my behalf, makes me hold my tongue. But what’s right has to come above self-preservation. At least if I were to die, I’d die with a clean conscience. And if he were to send me back to Summer, I’d go back to a pride that still respects me.

Keeping my head bowed, I follow Winnie through the castle that was to be my home. A castle I’ve yet to explore or know any part of aside from my bedroom and bathroom. Next to me, Winnie chatters away, but I’m far too lost in thought to listen. Either way, I don’t think she minds.

Once outside, the unforgiving cold of Winter slaps against my face as snow falls on us. I brace myself, arms clutched to my chest as I take in the bitter cold and try to summon the warmth from the dimming sun.

Winnie leans into me, giving my hand a quick squeeze. “Change, Liana. Take your few moments of freedom and let yourself be.”

I send her a grateful glance and shrug out of my coat. She holds onto it, pressing it against her chest as I discard the rest of my clothes. She picks up after me as I change into my true nature. I stretch my legs back and when Winnie runs her fingers through my mane I press my head into her palm.

“You’re soft,” she says.

I open my mouth and do my best to grin at her.

“And yep, huge sharp teeth. Close your mouth, Liana.”

Humor rumbles from deep inside my chest and Winnie throws her head back in laughter. Lighter than I’ve felt in days, together we walk the grounds. My large paws leaving prints in the fresh snow as she leaves dainty little footprints. Not caring that I can’t respond, Winnie continues to talk while I assess my new backyard.

While it’s cold here, the kind of cold that infiltrates your bones, it isn’t altogether bad. The clamor of children playing not too far from us fills me with hope for a brighter future. A future where Noble’s and my children can play in the snow. Little wolves and lions frolicking carelessly while we watch with the doting kind of love I always received from both my parents, but mostly my mother.

Behind us, a man snorts and I turn my body to the sound, standing in front of Winnie so I can protect her in case whoever it is means us harm.

“You’re off your mark, lion.” The man sneers.

“She is your queen,” Winnie says, her tone confident.

The man moves closer, so I align my body to better shield Winnie.

“She’s no queen of mine. There hasn’t been a coronation. And haven’t you heard?” He angles his face and laughs a humorless laugh. “Your marriage is to be annulled.”

I stammer back a few steps and knock into Winnie, who rests a hand on my head. The man chuckles again when I hiss at him. With long even strides, he moves toward us and when his eyes darken, I send Winnie a warning look. But her focus is on the man who quickly changes form into a light gray wolf. I stalk in front of her and pull back my muzzle to bare my teeth. The wolf growls, his hackles rising. He snaps his jaw in our direction and for the first time ever, I cower.

Bracing myself for the cold, I change back into human form.

“Go,” I tell Winnie.

She shakes her head and with her fists raised she prepares herself to fight.

“Go!” I bellow.

The wolf leaps at us, and I shove Winnie to the ground. Knowing I deserve this, I don’t brace myself when the wolf lands on top of me. He pins me to the ground, saliva falling from his open mouth and I stare into his murky eyes.

“Do what you must,” I say, “but this war between lions and wolves ends here.”

He digs his teeth into my shoulder. Winnie screams, but I know help will not come. Not for me.

I turn my head to look at her. Our eyes meet. Hers wide with shock and fear, mine calm and confident.

“Run!” I yell at her. “Run!”

Thankfully, she listens and after a few missteps, she runs back in the direction of the castle. The wolf bites and mauls my body and I shudder in response. Instinctively, I want to change, to let the lion take control and save us both. Through clenched teeth, I hold back, knowing this is better for Noble.

My death will be the vengeance he deserves. And maybe it’ll prevent the brewing war between our two realms.

A tear spills from my eye as I bite my bottom lip in agony. Fire burns my body with every bite and I hope unconsciousness takes me soon.

Dazed, I hear an angry snarl and when I turn to face the noise, I find familiar black eyes peeking through the bushes. I smile, happy to see him one last time.

“My Noble,” I whisper, another small tear paving a path of our destruction down my cheek.

The black wolf leaps from the shadows and the two wolves tumble over the crisp snow. Growls and snarls echo in my head, but I fight off the ensuing darkness as I trek their fight. Only when I hear my beautiful black wolf’s howl do I let myself succumb to the perilous gloom swimming around my periphery. Because I know that he has won. That he is okay.

A cool cloth presses against my throbbing head. My lids flutter open, but I shut my eyes when the brightness of the room proves to be too much.

“Liana.” My name reverberates in my chest and I open my eyes to see my husband.

Memories swarm me, good and bad, but the one that stands out the most is the sight of my brave wolf coming to save me.

“Noble,” I rasp out.

He sits on a chair beside me, his eyes red and swollen, the dark circles more pronounced than I remember.

“How long?” I cough. He hands me a glass of water and I take it. My fingers brush over his hand and he pulls away. I drink most of the cool liquid in one gulp. “Thank you. How long have I been sleeping?”

“Two days,” he barks.

I flinch at his harsh tone. When I reach for his hand resting on his lap, he jerks from my touch. Blinking back tears, I stare out the window across from my room.

“You told me to fight without restraint. To never cower. Yet you cowered, you didn’t fight,” he accuses. “Instead, I had to leave my father’s funeral, a funeral brought on by your people, to save you.”

I try to swallow past the knot lodged in my throat, but it stays there despite my best efforts.

“I didn’t fight,” I agree. “I didn’t think you’d hear me or come for me. I never wanted you to leave your father’s funeral to save me, your grace, but I’m grateful all the same.”

“You didn’t think I’d come for you?” His voice echoes in the large room. “You think I’d let my wife die by the hands of one of my own?” He stands, clutching his hands by his side. “And then I hear from our healer that you have bruises that are days old. Bruises, Liana, that I knew nothing about! My pack has disgraced and mistreated my wife and rather than hear it from you, I hear about it from a healer after you cave into a fight you could’ve won without even trying.”

Another tear spills and I wretch my fingers around my sheets as I pull them closer to my chin. “I didn’t tell you about the bruises to protect you.”

“To protect me?” he shouts. His bushy brows shoot to his hairline and red tinges his face and neck.

“Yes, Noble, to protect you. On our wedding day, I promised to protect you as you promised to protect me. If I told you what your guards did to me, what would you have done?”

“I’d have dealt with them accordingly.”

“Exactly,” I agree. “You’d have fought or done whatever you wolves do when another mistreats your wife. A wife your pack despises, especially after your father’s death. If you’d taken up for me, your pack would’ve been outraged and right now, they need you more than I do.”

“And this?” He throws a ripped, crumpled piece of paper at me and my heart stalls for a few beats before it begins an erratic thumping behind my chest. “Was this to protect me, too?”

I fist Crede’s letter in my hand and will back the remaining tears. “Yes, my lord. Whether you see it or not, everything I’ve done is to protect you and our fragile relationship.”

“I’ve news for you, my lady.” He sneers. “You will not be going back to Summer. There will be no annulment. You are my wife and you belong here, not with Crede.”

Tipping my chin, I meet his tempered gaze. “Then, my king, I expect my coronation to take place soon.”