Raising Beast Cubs to Find a Husband novel Chapter 119

Chapter 119: The Gates of the Wolf

The heavy iron gates slammed shut behind them with a sound like a thunderclap.

The Royal Carriage rolled into the courtyard of Winter-Hold. It was less of a courtyard and more of a military staging ground. The stone was swept clean of snow, revealing grey slate stained with soot and oil.

Hundreds of Wolf-Kin soldiers stood in formation. They wore heavy steel armor lined with white fur, their faces grim and scarred. They didn’t look like the festive guards in the Capital. They looked like men who had been fighting a losing war for months.

"Welcome home," Rurik muttered darkly as the carriage stopped.

He opened the door. The cold air rushed in, smelling of forge smoke and pine.

Caspian stepped out first, his face impassive. He turned and helped Primrose down. Then, he lifted a sleepy Orion into his arms. Vali hopped out last, shaking the snow from his hair and looking around with wide, curious eyes.

"Is this where you grew up, Dad?" Vali whispered. "It’s... big. And pointy."

"It is a fortress, pup," Rurik said, placing a hand on his son’s shoulder. "Not a playground."

The soldiers parted.

A man walked toward them.

He was huge—easily as tall as Rurik, but broader. He wore the black-and-silver armor of the Clan Head, covered by a cloak made of a massive white dire-wolf pelt. His hair was the same dark grey as Rurik’s, but his face was harder. A jagged scar ran from his temple to his jaw, pulling his lip into a permanent sneer.

Marquis Konrad, Lord of the North.

He stopped ten feet away. He didn’t bow to the King. He didn’t smile at his brother. He just glared.

"You," Konrad growled. His voice sounded like grinding stones.

"Brother," Rurik nodded, keeping his posture stiff. "I have returned."

"I see that," Konrad spat. "And you brought a circus with you."

He looked at Primrose (a tail-less fox), Caspian (a foreigner), and Orion (a fish out of water).

"This is a war zone, Rurik," Konrad snapped. "Not a tourist destination for your Capital friends. Why are you here? Did you run out of soft pillows in the city?"

"I came to help," Rurik stepped forward, his fists clenching. "I felt the Crimson Howl. I know the Shrine is bleeding."

"The Shrine is my burden," Konrad snarled, stepping closer until they were chest-to-chest. "I didn’t ask for your help. You gave up your right to care about the Shrine when you left. When you chose to play Warlord for the Emperor instead of protecting your own blood."

"I left to protect the clan!" Rurik roared back. "To get us allies! To get us resources!"

"You left because you were weak!" Konrad shouted.

The soldiers around them shifted nervously. The tension was thick enough to choke on. Vali hid behind Primrose’s skirt, his ears flattened.

"Enough."

Caspian didn’t shout, but his voice cut through the shouting match like a razor.

He stepped forward, still holding Orion.

"Marquis Konrad," Caspian said coldly. "I understand you are under stress. But you are speaking to a Regent of the Empire. And you are ignoring your King."

Konrad looked at Caspian. For a second, it looked like he might snap at him too. But then, he saw the raw mana drifting off Caspian’s shoulders—the scent of the deep ocean, powerful enough to crush the mountain.

Konrad gritted his teeth. He bowed, stiffly and barely low enough to be respectful.

"Your Majesty," Konrad grunted. "Winter-Hold is honored. But we have no accommodations prepared. We are on high alert."

"We don’t need luxury," Primrose spoke up, stepping forward. She held her head high, channeling her Head Nanny energy. "We need warm rooms for the children. And we need to know why there is Black Ice on your doorstep."

Konrad narrowed his eyes at her. "And who is this? The nanny?"

"She is my partner," Caspian said, his tone daring Konrad to argue.

"Konrad! Stand down!"

A new voice rang out across the courtyard. It was sharp, commanding, and female.

A woman strode out from the keep. She was tall, with pale blonde hair braided into a crown around her head. But what caught the eye were the two pristine white wolf ears that twitched amidst the braids, blending almost perfectly with her hair. A long, fluffy white tail swished behind her blue wool dress, betraying her irritation.

Duchess Freya. An Arctic Wolf Kin.

She marched right up to the two massive wolf brothers and shoved Konrad aside.

"You are embarrassing us," she hissed at her husband, her white ears flattening against her head. Then, her face softened completely as she looked at Rurik.

"Rurik," she breathed.

"Freya," Rurik’s shoulders slumped. He actually smiled. "It’s been... five years."

She didn’t hesitate. She hugged him. It wasn’t a polite hug; it was a bone-crushing embrace that lifted the massive Warlord slightly off his toes.

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