The Glacierclaw Ledger

Valerica's POV

Garrick scoffed, the sound harsh against the howling storm raging outside the heavy oak doors of the council hall.

"Alpha Garrick, you seem to forget I am the daughter of Glacierclaw’s Alpha," I said, pushing off the cold bronze candelabra. "Alpha blood runs through my veins."

He sneered openly, his voice dripping with condescension as he looked down at me. "You grew up shielded by your parents and your pack. You’ve never seen war’s bloody teeth. You've never faced a real battle. Morrigan despises soft wolves like you. I’m doing you a favor by keeping us apart. I am sparing you the humiliation of her sharp tongue."

Soft? I almost laughed out loud at his sheer ignorance. The man standing before me had no idea what lived beneath my polished exterior. He did not know a single thing about my brutal, blood-soaked years training at Gloom Peaks.

My father, Alpha Evander, had sent me to the unforgiving mountain training grounds when I was just seven years old. Only true warriors came out of those peaks alive. I learned hunting, fighting, and strategy from the ancient shifter elders themselves. The harsh scent of iron, pine, and sweat surged in my memory. I remembered the blinding snowstorms. I remembered hunting blindfolded in a whiteout, relying solely on the primal instinct of my inner wolf to track the erratic heartbeat of my prey through the biting wind.

I remembered my fifteenth year, the exact moment I found my wolf. A boy in the camp, older and boasting twice my weight, decided I was easy prey. He pinned me down in the freezing dirt. I still remembered the arrogant, mocking look in his eyes right before I shifted. I did not hesitate. I snapped my jaws shut around his neck, tearing his throat out mid-shift just to survive. The thick, copper taste of his blood coated my tongue. The instructors did not flinch; they only nodded in approval. That week, I fought until my claws cracked and bled. I disarmed grown males and stood howling over the broken bodies of wolves who dared to underestimate the youngest daughter born into a bloodline of killers.

But I kept that lethal monster locked away. I am the last living descendant of Glacierclaw. My dying mother, Luna Calanthe, tasked me with a sacred duty. She held me in her arms, smelling of pine smoke and profound loss, and made me swear to find a strong Alpha to rebuild our legacy. My father and brothers had been brutally slaughtered in battle, leaving our pack vulnerable. My mother specifically chose Garrick. He had dropped to his knees before her, groveling and swearing on his wolf to cherish me, protect me, and honor our bond.

Now, I found myself chained to a humiliating farce, essentially begging before a man who had already betrayed that sacred pledge.

I forced my spine straight, letting the cold fire in my chest shape my words. "If she insults me, I will let it slide," I told him, my voice cutting through the damp air like a drawn blade. "Enduring petty insults and managing the pack’s burdens for the greater good is the true duty of a Luna. You said yourself I was perfect for the role."

He coldly brushed my words off like dust on his armor. "Why court trouble? The Lycan King’s orders are absolute. Even as my Luna, Morrigan won’t interfere with your daily pack management. She disdains everything you value anyway."

My fingers tightened around the fabric of my dress. He was oblivious to the stark reality of his own territory. Garrick was a fearless fighter on the battlefield, but managing a pack was not his strong suit. The former Luna's wolf was failing. The expensive potions keeping her alive, the winter food stores, the medicine, the structural repairs—Crimsonmoon's accounts were practically empty. He did not realize that my inherited Glacierclaw assets were the only thing keeping his impoverished, failing pack afloat. I poured my personal wealth into his lands for a year, and this was the thanks I received.

Rapidly losing his patience with my defiance, Garrick raked a hand through his rain-damp hair. "Forget it," he snapped, his jaw tight. "I’m done talking. I just had to inform you. You can agree or not, but it will not change a thing."

He turned his back on me. He walked out the heavy doors, abandoning me in the freezing storm without a single backward glance. Bitterness flooded my chest, cold and hollow.

I retreated to the quiet solitude of my lonely cottage, set a short distance from the main Packhouse. The biting wind whipped at my clothes, but the physical chill was nothing compared to the ice settling in my veins. I used to wonder why Garrick never invited me into his home. Now I understood.

Inside the cottage, the hearth flickered, casting warm, dancing shadows across the stone floor. I showered, changed out of my damp clothes, and sat at the vanity to comb my wet hair. My fiercely loyal omega, Odelia, stood nearby. She had followed me from Glacierclaw, surviving the horrors of our past to serve by my side.

I recounted the bitter betrayal to her. I told her about the Lycan King's decree, about Morrigan, and about Garrick's blatant dismissal of my worth.

Odelia broke down. She dropped to her knees beside my chair, weeping with indignant, fiery fury on my behalf.

"How dare he?" she cried out, her voice cracking with sorrow and disbelief. "After everything? After Glacierclaw bled for Crimsonmoon? He is a jerk, Valerica. How could he do this to you?"

She clenched her fists, her eyes burning with unshed tears. "Did he forget how he got you in the first place? I remember it clearly. Every powerful northern Alpha fought brutally for your hand in marriage. Strong, rich, respected Alphas brought gifts and promised alliances. But you chose Garrick. He groveled on his knees for Luna Calanthe's blessing. He swore you were the key to his peace and strength, that he would never want another female by his side!"

Odelia pushed herself up, pacing the floor in her outrage. "And now he casts you aside for a nameless stray? Morrigan has no lineage. She has no name, no clean past. She clawed her way up through blood and carnage on the battlefield, while you were born the daughter of an Alpha! You spent the last year holding his crumbling pack together with your own bare hands and your wealth. You are Alpha Evander's daughter. You are the last moonbeam of Glacierclaw, and he treats you like you are disposable!"

I listened to her tears, but the sorrow did not touch me. Instead, the fire behind my ribs only burned hotter. It sharpened into a focused, icy, calculated resolve.

"Knock it off," I snapped, my voice sharp and commanding.

The sudden shift in my demeanor sliced right through her sobs. Odelia froze, staring at me with wide eyes.

I tapped the side of my neck, right over the fading mark. "He never marked me," I told her, my tone devoid of any lingering warmth. "That temporary bite on my neck? Just a scratch. He is not my real mate. Now fetch the Glacierclaw asset ledger."

Odelia hesitated, wiping her wet cheeks. "Why the ledger? If we pull our support... what about the alliance? Luna Calanthe arranged it. Alpha Evander wanted pureblood pups from you. Are we just going to abandon everything they built?"

Her words hit me like a physical blow to the chest. The horrific memory of my butchered family rushed forward, suffocating me. Six months ago, Glacierclaw was hit again. They did not just kill my pack; they slaughtered them. Elders with snow-white pelts were torn apart. Pups still drinking milk were silenced forever. My youngest nephew was nailed to the moonlight altar. By the time I returned from the capital, all I found were the lifeless, mangled bodies of my mother and grandmother.

I was the sole, traumatized survivor.

I knew exactly how the tribal elders viewed me now. When I spoke of restoring Glacierclaw, they laughed behind their teeth. To them, I was nothing but a fragile ornament. I was an unmated female with no political worth beyond the pups my womb could carry. I was a relic of a dead pack.

Morrigan, on the other hand, was a decorated, bloodied warrior. She tore through a northern warlord, left his blood on her claws, and claimed the Bloodclaw Medal. She clawed her way to military power. By standing beside Garrick, she solidified his claim to dominance in a way those traditional elders instinctively respected. They would welcome her without question.

Let them crown Morrigan.

Let them blindly forget who I truly am. Let them forget where my bloodline comes from and the lethal training etched into my bones.

I have played the dutiful daughter. I have played the patient Luna, swallowing insults for the sake of an alliance. I have played the quiet, compliant survivor for long enough.

Now, it is time I played myself.