Page 25 of Iron Beneath the Snow

The gesture was formal and deliberate, offered in full view of the Hall.

Eira looked at it.

For a brief moment, she allowed herself to consider what taking it meant.

Not choosing him.

Not pledging herself to Ironfang.

Choosing the open door over the locked one behind her.

Then she placed her hand in his.

The contact was brief, but it carried weight.

The mark at her throat responded at once, not violently, but with a depth that suggested alignment rather than impact, as though something that had begun in firelight had reached a point where it could no longer be ignored.

Her breath caught despite herself.

His grip tightened only slightly before releasing her again.

“Under Ironfang covenant, Eira stands claimed,” he said, his voice carrying through the Hall with quiet certainty.

Vargan descended from the dais.

“You will leave my territory before nightfall. You have what you came for.”

The phrasing did not escape her.

Eira remained still as the wolves of Ironfang closed around her, not touching, but forming a boundary that made the shift unmistakable.

Cold air struck her face as the doors opened.

She descended the steps beside Soren without speaking, aware of his presence without needing to look.

Beneath the silence, the mark pulsed again.

She had not chosen him.

What she had chosen was motion.

After six days behind iron, she knew exactly what stillness had to offer her.

For the first time, the shape of what came next no longer belonged to the Hall behind her, or to the voices that had tried to define her within it.

It belonged to her.

Chapter 7: Iron and Snow

Eira

They did not bind her.

That was the first detail she noticed as Ironfang wolves formed a perimeter around her at the base of Frostvein’s steps.

No rope circled her wrists. No hand pressed between her shoulder blades to urge her forward.

They did not treat her like spoils.