Book 4: Tourney

Xander

I lean against one of Solberg Castle’s parapets, watching staff members scurry back and forth below. They carry straw targets onto an archery field, construct brightly colored stands, and string flags from tree to tree.

Next to me, Father shakes his head. “King Kieran says this tourney will display their strength.”

I raise an eyebrow. There are a few competitions that place their wolves at the forefront—races, sparring matches, tests of agility—but most of the displays being built before us highlight human capabilities. Capabilities that will never see a battlefield, no matter how impressive they may be. I know others consider our focus on our wolves strange, but I think their human-obsession makes far less sense.

He chuckles at my expression. “I believe my response was something similar.”

The laughter is stiff, however. Bare inches of wall separate us, as they always have. Those inches seem far more relevant now that Mother isn’