The Summit of Thorns

At the Peace Summit of Thorns-held inside a living amphitheater of petrified world-tree roots where oaths become visible threads-two alpha wolves are named as joint guarantors of a treaty meant to end a century of blood feuds.
One is Alpha Maera of Frosthollow: young, battle-scarred, and feared for leading with strategy instead of brute force. The other is Alpha Riven of Redcliff: older, bigger, raised on the old laws-where strength is loud, dominance is male, and a "female alpha" is an insult he can't stop tasting every time her title is spoken.
He looks down on her as weak.
She looks through him like he's outdated.
Then the summit is betrayed from the inside.
A trusted beta tampers with the wardstones that make the summit neutral ground. A beloved advisor "misplaces" the treaty seals. The nearest allies turn their blades-not to stop the chaos, but to pin it on the alphas. In the panic, Maera and Riven are branded with a twin curse that flares when they try to attack each other or stray too far apart-an ancient failsafe intended to keep guarantors alive long enough to uphold a peace.
Except there is no peace now. Only a hunt.
The diplomats call them traitors. Their packs hear the accusations and hesitate-long enough for soldiers and spell-hounds to close in. Maera's inner circle fractures. Riven's second-in-command "regrets" it out loud while tightening the trap. Together, they barely escape the root-throne with arrows in their backs and silver-edged magic snapping at their heels.
Their only route out is the border everyone avoids:
No Man's Land-a dead stretch of ruined kingdoms and broken ley-lines where the wards don't hold, and rogue territory begins.
And rogues don't recognize titles.