The ride to the council chamber was an exercise in patience. It took too long, was too slow, and way too exposed. The storm had turned the dirt roads into a slick mess, forcing us to pick their way carefully through the flooded paths leading from Damien’s residence to the Town Hall.

The sound of Spark’s hoof sounded like a countdown to my excommunication. The wind howled through the trees, rattling the branches viciously. Kael sat behind me on his stallion, unfazed by the rain. The guards flanking us only made it worse. Their formation and strong faces felt like I was being escorted like a prisoner to court.

The Nightclaw compound stretched beyond the thick pine forests, sprawling into the mainland like a fortress carved from the wild. We passed the training grounds—now empty, save for the relentless downpour turning the sparring pits into pools of mud. The merchant district was equally deserted. Vendors had shut their stalls early, metal shutters rattling in the wind. A few wolves lingered under awnings, watching as we rode past, their gazes lingering on me longer than I liked.

I didn’t need to hear their whispers to know what they were thinking.

The girl who crossed paths with witches.

The Baudelaire who still reeked of magic.

Maybe they already decided I was cursed, and wanted me gone. Wouldn’t blame them.

We arrived soaked through, with my boots caked in mud, and Kael’s stallion snorting from carrying us both through the storm.

“Thanks, Spark,” I murmured, patting the stallion’s damp neck.

Spark snorted again, ears flicking back. Even the horse was over this ride.

As we dismounted, a stable hand rushed forward to take the reins, bowing his head as he led Spark away. Kael nodded towards him. His dark hair was soaked but still managed to look infuriatingly perfect, curling slightly at the ends. His eyes moved toward the entrance of the chambers before settling on me.

“We should get inside before the storm worsens,” he said.

“Alpha.”

One of four guards stepped forward from the building, a bundle tucked under his arm. Three more stood behind him.

“We’ve prepared a change of clothes,” the guard said.

Kael nodded, then turned back to me. “Let’s get you into dry clothes before we join the council,” he said, already leading the way into City Hall.

I hesitated for half a second before following. I should have been grateful for the dry clothes, for the minimal kindness. But this inquisition was all I could think of.

Kael led me through the halls in a very unhurried pace. He always seemed so damn sure of himself, even when I knew he had to be calculating the risks, the angles, the best way to keep the council from tearing me apart.

We reached a private room, one of those set aside for high-ranking wolves when meetings ran late, or discussions needed to happen outside the scrutiny of the council chamber. He pushed the door open and motioned me inside.

The two guards who had escorted us took position immediately outside.

Kael barely spared them a glance. “Serge, Franklin. Go change out of those wet clothes.”

They both nodded, retreating down the hall. And then, the door shut, trapping me inside with him.

A shiver ran down my spine, though I wasn’t sure if it was from the cold or something else entirely.

Kael didn’t speak or waste any time. He simply peeled off his jacket, letting the soaked fabric hit the chair beside him with a dull thud. Then, his hands went to his shirt.

I should have turned away immediately, but I didn’t. I watched, unable to stop myself, as he tugged the sodden material over his head in one smooth motion, revealing a physique that could have been carved out of stone.

Broad shoulders. Scarred, battle-worn skin. Muscles that flexed and rippled as he ran a hand through his damp hair, shaking out the excess rain.

He didn’t even care that I was standing there and ogling him. And when his piercing green eyes met mine, I felt heat crawl up my neck.

I snapped my gaze away, grabbing my bundle of dry clothes and turning my back to him.

Damn wolves and their absolute lack of shame. Leave it to Kael to say something insufferable about how it was in our nature to be bare, as if that excused his complete disregard for basic decency.

I walked toward the nearest rear door, slipping into a small changing room. The stone walls were cold beneath my fingertips as I unbuckled my soaked training gear, peeling it away from my skin with a shiver. The dress they’d given me was a simple, blue fabric cinched at the waist, falling just above my knees. A poor trade for my usual uniform, but at least it was dry.

The flip-flops were an insult. A joke, surely. I shoved my feet into them with a silent curse and ran my fingers through my dripping hair, squeezing out what water I could. It was pointless” strands clung to my skin, curling from the damp.

By the time I stepped back into the room, Kael was already ready—dry, dressed, composed. Infuriatingly effortless. His black tunic and leather belt fit him too well, his hair settling into damp waves that only made him look even more like the arrogant Alpha he was.

His eyes flickered over me, a quick assessment, lingering just long enough to make my skin prickle. Then, the corner of his mouth tugged upward in that insufferable smirk.

“Let’s go,” he said, turning toward the door without waiting.

I exhaled sharply and followed, falling into step beside him.

The hall was silent, save for the soft rhythm of boots against stone as guards flanked us, moving like shadows. The storm outside had dulled to a distant rumble now.

As we approached the council chamber, the double doors swung open, yellow lights flickering in the sudden draft. Kael entered first, his presence alone commanding the room’s attention.

The Nightclaw Elders, the Thetas, the Gamma, and the Beta pair were seated in a semicircle.

As custom dictated, the moment Kael stepped inside, everyone rose in unison, heads inclining in acknowledgment. Everyone but one.

Selene Duvall sat poised like a queen in waiting, dressed in an elaborate emerald cloak that was far too extravagant for a meeting of the council. The rich fabric was an intentional display of status and defiance.

She didn’t bow or even pretend to. She remained perfectly still, her chin tilted just slightly higher than necessary, the ghost of a smirk curling at the corner of her lips.

I felt heat rise up my spine, irritation crackling through my bones like a live wire. Selene had always carried herself like she was above everyone. What made it worse was that no one stopped her. Not Kael, or Marrick, or the damn council.

They let her behave like she was the Alpha of Alphas, and I didn’t understand why or condone it. And she hated me. Not just because Kael cared for me—though she despised that enough—but because I was the only one who ever called her out on her bullshit.

But this smirk of hers now was a challenge. I was in trouble and for once, I couldn’t say a damn thing about it.

Or at least, that’s what she thought. So pathetic!

I tilted my head, taking a slow step forward towards the middle of the semicircle where a chair waited.

“I take it you’re the Alpha of Alphas now, Selene?” I mused, letting the words drip with condescension. “Must be, since you’re still sitting on your skinny ass while the Ultima Alpha is present.”

A flicker of annoyance crossed Selene’s face. That meticulously polished mask of hers cracked, just as I liked it. But as always, she buried it under the same smirk, the one she wore like she was born to rule over lesser wolves. How dare she think I’m one of them. Even though she was born into money, I was a Baudelaire and outranked her.

The chamber went deathly quiet. Everyone in the room was still standing, all eyes locked onto her now. Waiting.

Then, slowly, like a predator indulging its prey before the inevitable kill, Selene rose to her feet. Her emerald cloak spilled down her shoulders, the heavy fabric pooling at her feet like creeping shadows. The gesture was unnecessary, theatrical, and it would have been laughable if it weren’t so infuriating.

Her ice-blue eyes locked onto mine, sharp as glass, polished to a fine point. She was sizing me up, waiting for the moment I would fold.

I didn’t, and she should already know I never would.

Selene inclined her head, but it was not deference. It was mockery. A calculated insult wrapped in false politeness. Then, without breaking eye contact, she finally spoke.

“My deepest apologies, Alpha Kael,” she murmured, voice honeyed and vacant. “I must have been distracted by the stench of magic in the room.”

Then she pinned me under her gaze, her smirk deepening, and her disgust barely hidden.

Bitch.

My smile was all teeth, no emotion. A wolf’s smile, full of fangs and wicked intentions. I hated her and didn’t care about hiding it.

“Strange,” I said, stepping closer to her side of the table. “I assumed you’d be used to the scent, considering how much ass you kiss to make yourself relevant, Duvall.”

Lyra grinned, her shoulders shaking as she tried, and failed, to stifle a laugh.

Selene’s smirk twitched, and I wondered why she bothered to hide her jealousy and disdain. Did she think it made her a better person?

Kael finally lowered himself into his seat, the Alpha of Alphas settling in like a king to his throne, before lifting a hand and motioning for the others to sit as well.

They did. All but two.

Selene and I remained standing, locked in a battle of vicious glares and wicked, cutting smiles.

Someone cleared their throat, loud enough to remind the room we were supposed to be professionals here. I had no doubt it was my brother, but I didn’t look away from Selene.

Kael’s voice shook the hushed hall. “Sit down, Selene.” He commanded.

Selene didn’t move at first. Her fingers tightened around the folds of her cloak, nails pressing into the fine fabric. She was seething. But Kael wasn’t asking.

She knew better than to push this any further. With a barely restrained growl, she lowered herself into her seat, her icy glare never leaving mine.

Kael barely spared her another glance, before turning his attention back to the room.

“We have much to discuss.” His gaze moved to me, and he tilted his head slightly in a silent command.

I sat.

“Let’s begin.”

And just like that, the meeting started.

And I had far bigger problems than Selene Duvall.

Though, if she kept pushing, I might just make her one.