11. Rennick #3
The ferocity of Lowri’s pack was never in question for me.
I witnessed it myself during the battle in Ashvale where they fought with unflinching courage, their omegas fighting shoulder to shoulder with the rest of their pack.
It’s not the strength of the Craddock wolves that worries me.
It’s the power the dark coven has already shown us they’re capable of.
The very power that executed their pack Alpha and took down Amara’s wards.
It’s the threat of that power that brought them to my lands to begin with.
“If the Craddock Pack wolves want to join the patrol schedule, I won’t stop them,” I decree, leaving no space for argument.
“But every omega must be accompanied by an alpha or beta. None venture anywhere alone. That goes for all omegas on Fallamhain soil. That’s not a suggestion, it’s law.
Spread the word—tell your mates, your children, your neighbors.
Rhosyn will be issuing an official notice through the pack text alert system as well.
And starting tonight, omegas are to be in their homes by eight.
No exceptions. I’m not losing another fucking life to these bastards. Understood?”
I level my stare across the room, checking for acceptance of this ruling, and stop when I hear the low and bitter grumbles coming from the usual suspects.
Counsil members appointed during my father’s time, the very ones who never miss a chance to remind me of my supposed fallings.
My wolf is already pressing closer to the surface when Yrsa’s razor-like gaze slices through the men, silencing their protests.
It’s a jarring change of allegiance for Siggy’s mom, seeing as she’s usually in their corner.
Mercer steps forward then, smoothing his expression into something that mimics diplomacy. I see through it instantly.
“Not my place to question you, Alpha,” he begins.
“You bringing these people here, offering them refuge amongst us…won’t that jeopardize our alliance with Cathal McNamara?
He made his conditions pretty clear.” His eyes flicks to Noa, heavy with implication.
“His men have been helping cover the northern border for months. Without them, who knows how many more omegas we could have lost. Are we really going to spit in his face like this by having them here?”
He isn’t talking about the coven, or the Craddock wolves. He’s talking about Noa. Because he knows like I do that Cathal McNamara’s condition was as simple as it was cruel, that I reject her and make a spectacle all in the name of strengthening his own daughter’s claim as my Luna.
Mercer’s focus flicks toward his supporters, who mutter their agreement like a chorus of buzzing insects.
Yrsa is the one who snaps back first. “You’re right about one thing, Mercer. It isn’t your place to question your Alpha.”
Once again, I’m left amazed by her support.
For months she’s been one of my toughest critics and was one of the loudest in favor of me abandoning my bond with Noa and binding myself to Talis McNamara in an effort to retain the alliance.
But her daughter came home because of the woman sitting beside me.
And Yrsa, for all her jagged edges, doesn’t turn her back when loyalty has been earned.
She’s another name added to the tally of those who’ve fallen under Noa’s spell.
I could leave it at that—let Yrsa’s bite stand—but I won’t.
These are still my battles to fight. My wolf surges, pressing against the confines of my skin, demanding I meet the challenge head-on.
The shift in my eyes is immediate as I let him peer out just enough to choke the room with the intensity of my dominance.
Heads turn and spines snap straight as one.
Even the wolves who’ve objected the loudest bow now, staring at the floor rather than facing me.
I let it linger, let them sit in the discomfort until I’m sure the reminder of who the fuck I am has seeped into the marrow of their bones.
But then I catch the Craddock omegas along the wall shrinking back, their spines flush with the drywall. And worse, at my side, Noa—my Noa—is folding in on herself, her chin dipped to her chest as though she’s part of this.
I snap it all back at once, reeling my wolf in hard.
My hand is already reaching for her, brushing beneath her chin, coaxing her head up.
She flinches at my touch but doesn’t pull away.
The moment her eyes catch the gentleness I reserve only for her, she softens.
My thumb ghosts over her one, twice, telling her what I can’t voice in front of them all. Never you, sweet one.
Then I let her go and turn back to Mercer, every line of me hardening again. “I will handle McNamara and his people,” I say, my tone made of unmovable iron. “With or without them, with the Ashvale Coven and Craddock wolves at our side, we’ll keep this territory and the people within it safe.”
I let the reassurance hang, let it sink into the tense air. Heads nod back at me, not all, but enough for now.
Amara sits forward, completely unbothered. “My witches will also be doing additional spell work. Protective illusions, traps, safeguards. We’ll mark their locations for your patrols. We’d hate for one of your wolves to poke their snout where it doesn’t belong.”
At her back, her coven smirks, laughter muffled and conspiring.
I tip my chin at Canaan.
He rises, bracing himself on the table as he points to our territory’s map that’s spread across the glass. “Then let’s lay it out. Get precise. Patrol schedules. Where these safeguards will be be. Where our biggest weaknesses are.”
For the next half hour, voices overlap, suggestions are weighed, plans are drawn.
Somewhere in that rhythm, the room begins to settle.
It isn’t harmony, not yet, but it’s the start of something that could be.
By the time I call it, pleased with what we have in order, the tautness in the air has loosened.
With their new assignments in hand, they file out one by one.
I turn, and she’s there. Noa. Already watching me, expression soft in a way I haven’t earned before now.
The small smile she offers is genuine. No bitter edges, void of any wary caution.
For the first time since I spoke those fucking words in that clearing, she gives me a smile that isn’t laced with anything guarded or pained.
The impact is enough to shake me, enough to bend me if I let it. My knees threaten to give, but I lock them tight, forcing myself to stand tall.
They need me steady. She needs me steady. Even if every part of me wants nothing more than to fall at her feet and beg for the right to keep that smile.