Chapter 27
CADE
As much as I dislike that Taren made the call to bring the alphas here, it’s a decision I would have made myself—if I believed we were ready. I’m not sure we are, but time isn’t on our side.
Malrik’s not going to disappear just because Rowan escaped. And until we understand his true intentions, he remains a threat I have no intention of ignoring for long.
I’ve sent Liz and Elias to the front of the manor to meet the three incoming alphas. According to Taren, they’re arriving via portal transport, courtesy of her pack witch.
“How did you manage to acquire a witch on your payroll?” I ask because in my experience, witches don’t belong to anyone. They tolerate alliances at best.
Taren grins around a bite of meat, a strip of it still dangling from her fork. “That’s my pack business.”
Of course it is.
I bite back a retort. This isn’t just a gathering of wolves.
This is my first time sitting with the council as a member.
Not an outsider. Not a problem they’d rather pretend didn’t exist. Strength matters here, but so does restraint.
If this council is going to survive what’s coming, we need to learn how to work together.
Which means respecting boundaries, even when they irritate me.
So, I let it go, just as I expect them to respect mine. Rowan won’t be leaving my side for this meeting, council seat or not.
The air ripples outside, then settles. Once. Twice. Three times.
Bram lets out a low whistle from his seat. “Is your witch dropping alphas off like parcels,” he asks, “or should we be preparing for something more…interesting?”
Taren gives him a blank stare and goes back to finishing her food, which has brought even more color back to her face.
At least I’m not the only one unimpressed by his sense of humor.
I turn my attention to the door, tracking every second, every shift in the air. None of this is being done the way it always has, but the old way led us here. Change is overdue.
I can only hope it’s come in time to still matter.
For the packs, and for my mate.
When the alphas finally enter, there’s no ceremony. No guards flanking the walls. No betas posturing behind them. Just wolves stepping into a meeting that once dictated their lives from behind closed doors.
I remain standing as Elias brushes against my mind.
First is Brynn Hale, he reports. She’s taking over for Milo in Glacier. Dax has the shaved head. We talked to him before, and he’s replacing Calder. Last will be Kael for Thornwell. He’s replacing Eamon.
Thank you, I offer before watching the three of them find their places around the table. Each stare lingers a second too long on Rowan, who sits beside me, calm, composed, and unyielding.
I say nothing.
For now.
“Welcome to NightShade,” I announce. “We appreciate that you were able to arrive on such short notice.”
Kael scoffs. “That red-headed witch made it sound like we had no choice.”
My gaze cuts to Taren, who has finally finished eating. “You didn’t call each of them personally?”
“I didn’t think we had time.”
Considering how helpful she was when we had her locked in a room, I expected more from her, but that’s fine. As long as we can all find a way to work together for the packs, we don’t have to get along.
We’re not here to be friends.
“Then let’s get straight to it.” I take my seat last, something which they all notice and don’t remain quiet about.
Brynn tilts her head slightly, silver eyes sharp. “Have we already voted to put you in charge of the council meetings, and the rest of us missed it?”
I gesture around the table, holding her stare. “You’re welcome to take over.”
My wolf stirs, pleased. Smart move, he murmurs. No need to demand respect. Let them offer it.
That wasn’t exactly my intention, but I’ll take the result.
No one else volunteers, so I continue, already eager to be done.
“This council,” I say evenly, “will no longer operate in secrecy.”
That gets their attention fast.
“The old ways have led too many of us to an early grave.” My gaze moves deliberately from face to face. “Milo of Glacier Crest—killed during the attack on NightShade. Eamon of Thornwell—met the same fate. Calder of Riverstone—”
I glance at Bram.
“Died because he was a traitor to our kind,” Bram finishes flatly.
No one questions it.
They don’t even flinch, and that tells me more than words ever could. I’m not the only one who knew the council had rotted from the inside.
Still, I bring attention to the unspoken words.
“They didn’t only fall to an outside enemy. They fell because those who vowed to uphold our laws and protect our kind chose manipulation over protection.” I pause, letting the truth settle. “That ends now.”
Silence stretches, thick but listening.
“I rejected my seat once,” I say next. “That was my mistake, but I’m here now. For my pack and for this council.”
I wait for anyone to object, as they have the right to do, but the calm continues with nods of respect at me owning my responsibilities.
“Before we move forward,” I add, wanting to hear each of them claim their own seats. “The packs that lost leadership will announce who stands for them now.”
I gesture to Brynn before finally settling back into my seat.
Rowan reaches for my leg under the table, giving a supportive squeeze as she keeps her eyes on the newly rising alpha. Something I appreciate more than she knows, but I’ll be sure to show her later.
Brynn rises smoothly. She stands tall, shoulders squared beneath a fitted jacket, silver eyes sharp and assessing. Her blonde hair is pulled back in a tight braid that speaks of discipline over decoration.
“I’m Brynn Hale,” she says clearly. “Chosen Alpha of Glacier Crest Pack.”
Her gaze flicks briefly to Rowan—not fearful, not reverent, but measuring. Then back to the room.
“Glacier will not repeat Milo’s failures,” Brynn continues. “We stand for the protection of wolves, not the hunting of those deemed inconvenient.”
A few murmurs of approval ripple through the room before she takes her seat.
Next, a broad-shouldered man with dark blue eyes rises.
“Dax Rowe. Riverstone Pack.” His voice carries the weight of an inheritance he didn’t ask for, but his steady gaze says he’s ready to claim it. “Calder’s actions shamed us. That won’t happen again. Riverstone stands with this council under new terms, accepting of why our prior alpha needed to go.”
There’s no bitterness in his tone when he glances at Bram. Just resolve.
Finally, Kael of Thornwell takes his turn. Lean, green-eyed, quieter than the others, but no less steady.
“Eamon ruled through fear,” he says simply, lifting his chin. “I won’t. Thornwell supports reform and expects change for the betterment of our packs.”
I let the words settle.
Three packs, newly led. Three fresh starts.
Really four. Soon, I’ll have to return to the Solara Pack and face the rest of my people, but first, we need to secure our survival as a whole.
The council isn’t just changing faces. It’s changing foundations.
I glance at Rowan, just long enough to feel the grounding pull of her presence.
Now comes the part where we decide what kind of wolves we’re going to be.
“I can only imagine what your previous alphas told you about my mate.” I meet the gazes of Brynn, Dax, and Kael. “But I assure you, it was all wrong. Rowan isn’t here to harm any of us.”
Before I can continue, Taren rises slowly, every movement deliberate. She’s stronger now, steady on her feet, and the life back in her face, but the deep lines around her eyes tell a different story. One that wasn’t there before.
Power leaves marks, even when it’s removed.
“I managed to survive Malrik’s tricks, but it wasn’t without cost,” she says plainly. No dramatics. No excuses. “He didn’t only strive to control each of us. He nudged, whispered, twisted what I already feared until it felt like my own thoughts.”
A few of the alphas shift uncomfortably in their seats.
“I didn’t realize I was acting against my pack,” she continues.
“Or this council. I believed I was protecting us. Only when it was too late, when I should have died, did I begin to see the truth.” Her purple eyes flick briefly to Rowan.
“This Ashmark took that influence from me. Cleanly and without pain. Without stripping me of who I always should have been.”
She pauses, letting that sink in.
“She didn’t weaken or hurt me,” Taren finishes. “She gave me my freedom back.”
That earns her nods, slow, thoughtful ones.
Bram leans forward, speaking next. “I’ll second that.”
Every head turns.
“I didn’t make it as far down the rabbit hole as Taren,” he says with a shrug that doesn’t quite hide the tension in his shoulders. “But Malrik tried hard to get me there.” His mouth twists, humorless. “Tried to turn me into a weapon for the council.”
My jaw tightens.
His gaze slides briefly to Rowan—measured and respectful—before returning to the others. “She stopped it before things could get worse. And I know without a doubt in my sound mind, if the Ashmark wanted any of us dead,” he adds flatly, “we wouldn’t be sitting here having this conversation.”
The room goes quiet again. This time with understanding.
Brynn is the one who breaks the silence, her voice careful but steady. “No one here doubts what Rowan did for either of you. Or the good those actions accomplished.” She glances briefly at Rowan, then back to me. “But her power is unprecedented. What happens if she decides to turn it against us?”
The question isn’t cruel.
It’s cautious, and I don’t like it.
Kael nods a bit too enthusiastically. “I agree. This council has already been compromised once, and your mate was in the hands of the man who did so for how long? Two weeks?” He spreads his hands.
“We have no way to prove that she isn’t manipulating all of us right now by playing ally.
She shouldn’t even be in here right now, hearing this conversation. ”