After a long and heavy silence, Kael finally spoke.

“Well then,” he said. “Let’s adjourn.”

He didn’t raise his voice, and he rarely needed to. As calmly as he said that, his voice boomed through the chamber.

Across the room, Elder Marcus straightened in his seat. His brows furrowed, and his spine stiffened with an indignation only someone unaccustomed to dismissal could muster. “Alpha, we haven’t finished our discussion yet’”

“Oh?”

Kael’s head tilted ever so slightly. Those cutting, unsettling emerald eyes that rarely betrayed emotion swept across the row of Elders like a storm cloud preparing to break.

“Did you have an actual strategy to deal with the witch incursion?” he said slowly, as if he was speaking to children who had failed a very simple test, “or were you simply here to peddle your ridiculous agenda against someone who has always had the authority to remove you for your insubordination—but didn’t?”

The room went still. Not silent; it had already been silent. This stillness was more visceral.

It was obvious in how Elder Ruth’s lips tightened, and her eyes turned away, in how Tobias shifted in his seat like Kael’s words wounded him.

But none of them answered.

Their hands folded quietly in front of them now, their gazes no longer as bold, and accusatory. They stared at the floor, at their robes, at the empty space between them, anywhere except Kael.

They were cowards, and I has always seen them for what they were; wolves who had long since abandoned their duties and stopped earning the positions they coveted.

Kael exhaled sharply through his nose and shoved his hands into the pockets of his black slacks. I watched as he rolled his shoulders back, and I saw how his jaw ticked, how he steadied his breath as he evaluated them again.

“That’s what I thought.”

His voice didn’t sharpen, and honestly, it didn’t need to. And then, almost as if the whole exchange bored him, he added”

“This expedition in futility is over. You should thank Beta Luna for her grace.”

I was surprised to hear Kael acknowledge me as Beta. It suddenly struck me how eagerly I had been waiting for this. My work, support, and dedication to the pack have gone unnoticed over the years. By saying those simple words, Kael had acknowledged my contribution and given me a place within the pack. It was so strange feeling, but this room no longer felt stifling.

He had been waiting for Marrick to acknowledge me as a Baudelaire first.

I looked around at the Council as they stiffened, their ageing spines straightening in utter outrage.

No one challenged him, because they couldn’t.

He was Ultima. One of three bloodlines ordained when Anarion’s Wolven dominion was founded.

There were other Alphas in Anarion too, but only one Ultima.

As Elder Tobias wiped away a cold sweat from his temple, Elder Ruth trembled in front of him. Even Elder Warren, who had spat out my name like venom earlier, now stared straight ahead, unmoving.

“Thank Beta Luna for her grace.”

The sound of Marrick’s voice rang through the hall, and it was so sudden and unexpected that it startled me.

But the elders did. One by one, as if their bones ached from obeying.

Elder Marcus muttered, “Thank you, Beta Luna,” the title catching in his throat like poison, as if acknowledging me left a bad taste in his mouth.

Elder Ruth bowed her head, the movement so slight it might have been mistaken for a tremor.

Elder Tobias waited until Marrick’s stare locked on his before he surrendered, lowering his chin just enough to avoid being called out.

Elder Warren was the last. He didn’t speak, but he lowered his head a fraction. A stiff gesture that held no respect, only the raw, bitter taste of defeat.

I watched them, my face stone-cold, my eyes colder. Looking at them, their spines bending under the sting of their shame, I felt nothing but contempt.

They hated it, and I relished it.

Kael let the moment stretch, and settle deep into their bones like frostbite, let them feel the sting of submitting to the one they’d been scheming to cast out.

Only then did he turn on his heels, his long strides carrying him toward the arched door of the council chamber.

Alpha Kael Draven. Occasionally, I forgot who he was and how powerful and intimidating he was because of the way he dotted on me.

Kael didn’t inherit his authority. He’d bled and earned it. It had nothing to do with those aristocratic cheekbones. Though, it was his eyes that compelled people to surrender. It was a shade of emerald that saw everything but said nothing.

On his way out, those eyes met mine. Gods, he wore power well.

It wasn’t fun holding his gaze, but I had to. There was something about his stare that made my skin prickle, like he knew things about me I hadn’t even told myself. He said nothing as he passed.

After him came Damien, his stride just as commanding, but different. Where Kael moved like a sovereign, Damien moved like a weapon. It always looked like a storm raged behind those grey eyes.

Even though his cloak was damp at the hem and mud was smeared on his boots, he looked perfectly groomed. Damien Harou never unravelled, he just tightened up.

For just a second, his gaze fell on me as he passed. He didn’t say anything, but somehow I felt everything in his expression. There was that unfinished thing between us, the almost, the maybe, the ache we’d both ignored for too long. It all rushed back in that second of silence.

I turned away too quickly, swallowing the sudden dryness in my throat.

Lyra stepped toward me, her golden eyes shining with satisfaction. I could see her smirk, tucked into the corner of her mouth like a secret.

She inclined her head toward the door. “Come on, Beta Baudelaire.”

There was something both mocking and proud in the way Lyra said it, like she wanted the Elders to choke on it.

And gods, so did I.

I walked out behind her without another glance at their bitter glare.

Kael didn’t slow down. His strides hit the marble floor in an even rhythm. The fabric of his long coat was dark enough to swallow the light that lined the corridor walls.

He had his hands deep in his pockets, but I could feel the tension rolling off of him. It wasn’t anger simmering under his skin, it was restraint. He didn’t say anything, but his silence was electric.

And then he stopped abruptly, and I almost collided with him.

He turned and stared at me with such intensity that I froze. Gods, those eyes. Emerald and hauntingly clear, sharpened by something more powerful than mere dominance. They pinned me in place.

I had seen that look before. The last time he wore it, he had just returned from a summit where two Alphas had lost their packs in a border war. No matter how much the Alpha cared for me, I flouted his orders. I could feel the reprimand coming. It wasn’t Damon’s fault, it was mine, so I braced myself.

When he spoke, it was soft. “I should’ve done that a long time ago,” he said. “Forgive me.”

Before I could form a response, he did something I wasn’t expecting. He reached for me. His hand was warm against the cold flush of my ebony skin, his fingers brushing against my cheek, not forcefully, just enough to remind me of his ability.

Once, I might’ve been uneasy about that, but tonight, it didn’t bother me. I didn’t miss what followed, though.

Damien tensed up beside me. His body went still, his breath caught so tightly it barely sounded like breathing.

He shifted into a confrontational stance. One of his fingers flickered at his side, like he was disturbed by Kael’s hand on my cheek.

Also, Kael caught it, and he shifted his gaze to Damien’s. That brief pause between them was loud. I felt something coil between them that had nothing to do with rank at that moment.

Then Kael’s expression cooled, returning to the hardened steel I knew. As his hand dropped from my cheek, his fingers curled loosely at his side.

When he spoke again, he was cold. “You only had one job to do. Keep her safe. Keep her in your residence. How did this happen?”

Damon’s jaw clenched. “She wasn’t alone.”

That wasn’t really an answer, but I didn’t want Kael to blame him for my brash decision to leave the compound. I knew both of them well. Damien would take the blame whether I wanted him to or not, and Kael would insist on it. I had to speak up, to take responsibility for my own actions, even if it meant facing Kael’s wrath.

Kael’s eyes narrowed into slits. “What was she doing out there alone?”

“She wasn’t alone, Kael.” This time Damien said it slower, quieter too. He even called Kael by name. Not “Alpha”. Damien hadn’t used Kael’s name in years, and it rang as more than a name in the corridor.

I could feel Kael’s fury building as he said, “Tell me exactly what happened.”

Marrick stepped in and put himself between them. “Maybe we should head to your place for this, Alpha,” he said carefully. “It’s a bit delicate.”

Kael’s eyes snapped to him, a growl just shy of fury in his throat. “Return to the front line, Gamma, and make sure we’re ready for the’”

“Alpha, I’m not leaving until we figure out this thing with the witches and Luna,” Damien said.

My lungs didn’t expand. I didn’t move because I knew what that just cost him. Damien was always the neutral one. A Gamma who put duty ahead of himself. Yet he chose me while defiling the Alpha, and I didn’t know what to do. What was he thinking? Challenging the Alpha could lead to Damien being demoted or even exiled from the pack. Such defiance might also provoke Kael’s wrath, putting Damien in physical danger.

Kael’s eyes darkened, a storm brewing behind them as he processed the audacity of the challenge. His jaw clenched, a muscle ticking, yet he held himself back from immediate retaliation. Instead, he took a deep breath, his gaze shifting between Damien and me, weighing the consequences of his next move.

As soon as his eyes stayed on me, I said, “Alpha.” and bowed my head to show I meant it. “Damien had nothing to do with me leaving the compound. I went on my own, and I should be the one punished.”

It really came down to two things. Kael could either accept my confession and deal with me directly, sparing Damien from repercussions. It’s also possible he’ll see it as an opportunity to assert his authority and punish Damien anyway. Their enmity had to end.

Lyra squeezed my arm. “Alpha, Luna and I went out there on our own free will. Gamma Damien came out after we left to find us. If I may say so boldly, he’s only staying to figure out why the witches keep targeting his ward. He means no disrespect.”

Marrick shifted next to me. He was watching, measuring, waiting to see if this would end with blood on the floor. I think he did the right thing by not defending or defusing.

Kael let out a long, slow breath, dragging a hand through his hair. He squared his shoulders, reset his jaw, and turned. He stared at me for a heartbeat before he started talking. “Actions have consequences. Both of you will face the repercussions, but Damien’s intent will be considered.” Lyra and I exchanged a tense glance, unsure of what that meant.

“Let’s head over to my residence.” Without another word, Kael turned and marched out of the corridor.

Marrick followed Kael immediately, his long strides matching his as they disappeared down the corridor.

But Damien didn’t move, and neither did I.

My feet wouldn’t move because Damien was staring at me like he wanted to say something, or maybe do something. And I hated how desperately I wanted him to. I wasn’t sure what had happened back there in the woods.

Had he meant to close the distance between us? Had he wanted it? Had I? Gods, yes. I wanted that unfinished thing between us to finally find its ending. I wanted to know what would’ve happened if the warriors hadn’t shown up.

If we had been left alone a little longer, and if Damien would’ve kissed me.

I could feel that thought burning through me now, restless under my skin, refusing to go away. I swallowed hard.

“Luna.”

Lyra’s voice cut through the haze. Her hand found my wrist and her fingers curled around it.

I turned to her, startled—but she didn’t give me a chance to speak. She tugged me gently but decisively toward the second carriage. Away from Damien.

Marrick shot her a sharp glance, his brow rising as if to say what the hell are you doing—but Lyra didn’t even blink.

“She’s with me,” she said simply.

That was all she said before she opened the door, shoved me inside, and climbed in after me before anyone could argue. The carriage door slammed shut behind us.

I barely had time to catch my breath before the wheels groaned into motion, iron-rimmed and slick with mud as we rumbled down the rain-slicked streets.

I exhaled hard, dragging a hand through my hair, already regretting how much I cared about that moment I hadn’t gotten.

“You could’ve just asked me to ride with you if you wanted to talk,” I muttered, slouching slightly into the cushions.

Lyra didn’t answer right away. She just sat across from me, golden eyes unblinking, watching me like she was waiting for a confession I hadn’t decided to make yet.

Gods, I hated that look.

It was the one Lyra always had when she already knew—when she could see straight through me, through all the evasions and half-truths. When she was just waiting for me to stop lying to myself.

She tilted her head slightly, studying me. “You look like you’ve just been through war, and I don’t mean the witches.”

I scoffed, leaning back into the seat, feeling the vibration of the carriage under me. The window beside me was slick with rain.

“Lyra’”

“What happened with Damien?”

Of course she would ask. She wasn’t just my friend or brother’s mate, Lyra was my person. The one who had been there since we were pups, since we were two messy, scrappy little girls chasing each other through the training fields, bruised and fearless.

The only one who always knew.

I stared out at the streaks of water sliding down the glass, trying to make sense of the knot forming in my chest.

“I don’t know.” It was weak. Even as I said it, I knew it wouldn’t land.

Then’’That’s a lie.”

I closed my eyes, just for a second. Just long enough to feel everything I didn’t want to say.

I sighed. “It was nothing.”

Lyra didn’t let up. She shifted, pulling her legs up onto the seat, curling into the space across from me so she could fully face me now.

“Luna.”

Her voice was softer. No teasing, or sarcasm any more, just that dangerous openness she used when she was about to get under my skin.

“You forget that I know him too,” she said.

I didn’t say anything. Because my thoughts were already racing back to the flicker in his eyes when Kael touched me, to the way his body had coiled when the elders disrespected me.

“He put the Council down for you. He put his duty on hold for you. He refused a command from the Alpha, for you. Luna, he has never done that. Not for anyone.”

I swallowed hard, my fingers curling into the fabric of my pants. “I know.” I hesitated, licking my lips. “I think’” I hated how fragile it sounded. “I think he almost kissed me.”

Lyra’s brows lifted. “Almost?”

I nodded, gripping my pants tighter. “We were alone, and he” I don’t know, he looked at me like he wanted to.”

Lyra let out a breath, shaking her head. “Goddess.” She exhaled, rubbing a hand over her mouth. “That man.”

I turned toward her fully now. “But that’s just it, Lyra. He stopped. Like he caught himself as if he wasn’t supposed to want it.”

Maybe he still believed that I was too young, too unstable, too wrong.

Lyra frowned, her brow furrowing slightly as she studied me. “Or maybe,” she said slowly, “he’s just spent so long convincing himself that he doesn’t or can’t, that he doesn’t know how to stop any more.”

Yeah. That sounded like Damien. The man who had spent years keeping everything neatly compartmentalized; his loyalty, honour, rage, and desire. All carefully separated.

It felt like I was some obligation he had promised himself he’d never let slip into anything more. Just another ward to protect. Until he couldn’t look at me without seeing the truth. Whatever that truth was.

Lyra let out a long breath. “You may have to be the one to make the first move, you know. Just so he knows you’re okay with him putting his hands on you.”

I blinked at her bluntness. Her meaning was clear, but still, the phrasing made my breath catch.

She saw it and shrugged lightly. “We do live in a pack where everything has consequence, Luna. Even touches and moments. He’s not going to cross a line unless you draw it for him.”

I scoffed, shaking my head, trying to shake off the heat rising in my chest. “That’s the most unromantic way you could have put that.”

Lyra smirked. “Well, if you want me to tell you that you need to stand under the moonlight and confess your undying love while soft music plays in the background, I can.”

I shot her a dry look.

“Thought so,” she said with a grin, curling into her seat.

But gods” she wasn’t wrong. Damien wasn’t the kind of man to overstep. Not even when he wanted to, and I knew he had wanted to.

I’d seen it in his eyes back in the woods—the crack in his restraint, the hesitation that had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with control.

He hadn’t been unsure of what he wanted, he was unsure if I wanted it too. Even after I’d told him that I only wanted him, he’d held himself back.

Before I could chase that thought any further—A deafening boom shattered the night.

The carriage lurched violently, wheels groaning as they skidded across slick stone. The horses shrieked in distress, hooves scrambling for traction.

Lyra and I were flung forward. I caught myself on the wall just before I hit the floor, the wood under my palm trembling from the impact.

Another boom followed, louder this time, and my heart slammed against my ribs.

I didn’t need to look. I knew that sound. That deep, almost terrifying pulse that rattled through the compound.

The war drums.

Lyra turned, already throwing the window open. The cold air hit us like a slap, but I didn’t move. I already knew the witches were here, and this time, they weren’t hiding.

The war drums thundered again, rolling across the rooftops like thunder. I felt it echo through my bones, awakening a feeling I couldn’t name.

Then the carriage door flew open. Marrick stood there, soaked in rain, his coat darkened with water and blood I didn’t think was his.

“Change of plans.” His voice was urgent. His eyes—blue and burning—locked onto mine. “Get to the gate. Now.”

I jumped down before he finished, the wet earth unforgiving under my boots. Lyra was right behind me.

Up ahead, Damien was already moving, shoulders taut, stride purposeful, every inch of him primed for the violence waiting beyond the gates.

Kael walked beside him, speaking too low for me to discern, his presence a storm of control and fury held just barely in check.

Around us, the compound had come alive. Wolves poured out of buildings, weapons clanged into open hands, armour buckled into place mid-stride. The scent of steel and adrenaline rising like smoke.

Whatever the witches wanted, they’d come out of the shadows for it.

And we had to respond in kind.