The Silver Wolf (Diana and Talon) novel Chapter 115

Chapter One Hundred Fifteen

Claim

Thought for a couple of seconds. Talon did not care that he was in another pack. He did not care that these halls did not belong to him. He did not care that here, he was not the Alpha King standing inside his own territory, surrounded by his own warriors, protected by his own walls. Here, he was a visitor. An outsider. A wolf inside the Rogue Kingdom. And he did not care. Not right now. Not when Diana was somewhere behind one of these doors, unconscious, poisoned, and injured because of a trap meant for her.

Because of what she was. Because she was the Silver Wolf. Because someone wanted her dead. Talon’s jaw clenched so hard it ached.

He had considered trying to be civil with Damon. Once. Briefly. He had even considered the possibility that the Rogue King could become an ally. Not a friend-never that easily-but a wolf he could respect. A king with a kingdom to protect. A leader who understood the weight of responsibility. But that was before Willow. Before Talon learned Damon was his sister’s mate. Before he learned Damon had known from the beginning. Before Damon had stood in Black Howler, looked past Willow, and pursued Diana as if Willow’s heart had not been breaking in silence beside them. Before Willow was hurt. Before Damon marked her to save her life.

Before he took her away the moment she woke. Kidnapped her. No matter what Damon called it, no matter how Willow tried to soften it with duty and choice, Talon knew what it was. Damon had taken his sister from her home. From her family. And now Talon was walking through Damon’s pack, following one of Damon’s wolves, trusting their healers with his mate’s life.

The thought alone almost made Fenrir claw his way out. But Talon forced himself to breathe. None of that mattered right now. Nothing mattered but seeing Diana. Seeing with his own eyes that she was alive. That she was still breathing. That the Goddess had not taken her from him.

The female wolf guiding him down the hall kept a respectful distance ahead of him, but every step she took felt too slow. Far too slow.

Fenrir growled inside his mind.

“Can she walk faster?” Talon said nothing.

“Does she not understand we need to see mate?” Fenrir continued, pacing violently inside him. “Why does everyone in this pack move like they have nowhere important to be?”

“Fenrir,” Talon warned.

“She is too slow,” Fenrir snapped. “Pick her up and demand she point to mate’s room.”

Despite everything, Talon almost let out a humorless breath.

“And what will you do when Diana wakes up and smells another female on us?”

Fenrir went still. Talon pressed on.

“Are you willing to explain that it was your idea?” Silence.

“And not just to Diana,” Talon added. “To Artemis.”

Chapter Ous Hmdred Fiftern

Clam

That was enough. Fenrir retreated so fast Talon could almost feel him sit down in the back of their mind. Neither of them wanted to face Artemis’s wrath. Especially not while Diana was injured.

The female finally stopped in front of a closed door.

“We are here, Alpha King.” She said softly. “This is your mate’s room. She was still unconscious when we moved her, but the healer said-”

Talon did not hear the rest. He opened the door and stepped Inside. Then closed it behind him. He did not want anyone else there.

For a moment, he stood completely still. The room was dim, lit only by a soft lamp near the bed. It smelled of herbs, clean linens, medicine, and beneath all of it- Diana. His mate. His Luna. His world.

She lay against the pillows, her eyes closed, her face paler than he had ever seen it. Her hair spilled across the pillow, silver and tangled from the forest, and one arm rested above the blanket where the healer had left it. Bandages wrapped her side, clean now, but Talon could still smell the blood beneath. And something else. Poison. Faint. But there.

He moved to her bed like his body no longer belonged to him. Slowly, carefully, he sat in the chair beside her and reached for her hand. Her skin was warm. Not as warm as usual. But warm enough. Alive. Talon bowed his head over her hand, pressing his lips to her knuckles.

“Mate,” he whispered.

Inside him, Fenrir echoed the word.

“Mate.”

Their voices carried the same thing. Fear. Relief. Guilt. Talon closed his eyes tightly.

“I’m here,” he murmured. “I’m here now.”

Diana did not answer. Her breathing was steady, but too quiet. Too fragile. And Diana was never fragile.

Not his Diana.

His mate was fire and steel. She was silver fur and sharp claws. She was the wolf who stood in front of danger and dared it to come closer. She was the woman who argued with him even when he was right, who refused to hide behind his strength, who fought like a warrior born beneath the Goddess’s own hand.

Seeing her like this- still, pale, silent-made something inside him crack.

Fenrir lifted his head inside their shared mind.

“I can feel Artemis.”

Talon stilled.

“She is weak,” Fenrir continued. “But she is there.”

Relief hit Talon so hard his breath left him.

“And the poison?” Talon asked silently.

Fenrir growled low.

Cam

7-smell it. Faint, but still in her blood.

Talon’s eyes opened. Slowly. Coldly.

“Then Thorne dies.”

The name itself felt like a curse.

Fenrir’s growl deepened.

“Yes.”

Talon held Diana’s hand tighter, careful not to hurt her.

“I want his head,” Talon said inside their mind. “I want that black witch’s head for doing this to our mate.”

Fenrir’s rage answered his own.

“He will suffer.”

“Yes,” Talon agreed, his voice inside his mind dark and deadly. “And I will be the one who gives that suffering to him.”

For a while, he said nothing else.

He simply sat there, holding Diana’s hand and watching the rise and fall of her chest. Every breath she

took steadied him.

Every breath reminded him she was still there. Still his. Still fighting. He brushed his thumb over the back of her hand.

“You should have told me,” he whispered, voice rough. “You should have told me how badly you were hurt.” Silence.

“You kept running,” he continued. “You kept pushing yourself because you thought reaching the border mattered more than your own life.” His jaw tightened.

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