Chapter 15
Wolfe
“Alpha Wolfe of Stonefang,” Deryn began, wasting no more time, his voice suddenly smooth, almost pleased, “the Pack Council has concerns regarding your recent behavior.”
“I’ve noticed,” I said flatly.
Several in the chamber bristled.
Deryn pressed on. “You’ve consolidated two packs under your leadership in the span of months.”
“Not by choice,” I shot back. “By necessity.”
“So you claim,” another alpha said, fingers tapping off the table in irritation. “Yet the fact remains. Two territories now kneel to you.”
I almost said no one would ever kneel to me, but they had. I had made them. I would never require it of them again, but the fact was that they had. I stayed silent as the alpha continued.
“That level of influence,” he continued, “is unprecedented. And dangerous.”
“What influence? The same influence every alpha possesses by being…an alpha? Dangerous to who?” I asked. “My pack? They’re safer than they’ve been in years.”
“Says who?” Deryn asked sharply. “You? You think unification of that scale doesn’t destabilize the carefully maintained balance.”
This was their fear. Told to all who could hear, all who listened to the right words. I had power they didn’t control.
“Destabilizes the balance?” I snorted. “I brought balance. Ask the ones behind me. Blueridge and Stonefang both. Ask them if the pack feels destabilized.”
Angry rumbles broke out behind me from my pack. Killian’s hand shot out to quiet them.
Deryn stood. “Two packs answering to a single alpha is a rebellion in all but name.”
I let silence stretch. It was heavy and sharp-edged, and I took in every single one of them as they sat behind their curved desk and judged me with their own fear.
“Finally, the accusation.” I looked around at the ones seated. Alphas and their betas who trembled before the Pack Council and did not stand in front of it as equals as they should have. “You’re accusing me of rebellion.”
“No,” Deryn said, eyes glittering as he got to his feet. “Treason.”
Killian swore under his breath. I heard Rowen’s gasp.
I stepped forward, meeting Deryn’s gaze without looking away. “If I were leading a rebellion,” I said quietly, “none of you would be breathing long enough to accuse me of it.”
The room went dead still. Deryn’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t sit down. Didn’t back down.
“You have too much authority,” the older alpha who’d already complained said. “Too many wolves. Too much—”
“Influence,” another supplied.
“Control,” a third added.
There was the chorus. The voices of those that agreed with him. Unified behind one alpha who stared me down like I was dirt on his shoe.
“We believe,” Deryn said, “that you are positioning yourself as a rival power. Perhaps even an alternative Pack Council.”
I laughed loudly, humorlessly enough to make half of those sitting in the rows shift in their seats uneasily. “If you think I want to run your decrepit little club, you’re more senile than I thought.”
“That arrogance,” one of them hissed, “is exactly the problem.”
“No,” I corrected. “That arrogance, as you call it, is an alpha standing in front of you and telling you that this is beneath you. This petty jealous frivolity is not what an elected Pack Council should be focusing on.” My gaze traveled over them all.
“Your role is to govern shifters, ensure laws are enforced, and keep our presence unknown to humans. Not to concern yourself with an alpha, his mate, or their pack. The Deephorn Pack in northern Canada has twice as many shifters as my pack. It encompasses a quarter of the entire Canadian border, yet not one of you looked northward when their alpha consolidated packs a few years ago.” I turned back to Deryn.
“But two packs, Stonefang and Blueridge Hollow, merging has you calling me here and accusing me of treason. Why? Is it fear of the packs I merged? Or the land on which they stand?”
Whispers broke out immediately.
Deryn leaned forward, eyes sharp as a blade. “Fear? Of you?”
“Yes,” I said simply. “Because you know you can’t control me.” I smirked. “And you will never control the Hollow or Stonefang without me.”
Silence descended once more. Tight and hostile, but laden with truth.
Another Council member cleared their throat. “We are not here to quarrel like pups. We are here to investigate the sudden rise in your dominance.”
My eyes narrowed. “My what?”
Deryn interlaced his fingers. “Your dominion.”
Dominion. I kept my voice neutral, though I knew damn well what it meant. “Explain.”
“Dominion,” the oldest looking alpha said, speaking to the room more than to me, “is the capacity of an alpha to extend his authority beyond traditional bloodline or region.”
“It is rare,” another added, and when I turned to look at them, they gave a tentative smile, as if they were happy to explain. Maybe not all who sat in front of me resented me.
“Rare and dangerous,” Deryn said, in case anyone in the room had forgotten he hated me.
“Dangerous if unregulated,” another elder murmured.
All eyes swung back to me. “And the alpha in the north who did exactly the same thing as I have, is he unregulated and rare?”
Deryn straightened. “We suspect your rise is not natural.”
“Meaning?” I asked, tone quiet.
“Meaning,” his sidekick replied, “you may have taken power that was not yours to take.”
A soft, ugly sound slipped from my throat. “How exactly do you think I’ve done that?”
“It’s what you’re here for,” they said. “So we can find out your crime.”
“They’ve already judged you, Alpha,” Diesel muttered under his breath. “That’s the real crime here.”
Several of the Pack Council heard him and scowled in his direction.
I stepped forward again, drawing their attention off of him. “You’re reaching. I united Stonefang and the Hollow because both packlands are where my pack are. If you think I enjoy playing politics, you’ve misunderstood me.”
“No,” Deryn said. “We understand perfectly. You’ve sought out power.”
My jaw flexed. “I sought no such thing.”
Deryn met my glare. “You will remove yourself from Blueridge Hollow and take your pack back to Stonefang, and there will be no more on this matter.”
“And what happens to the Hollow?” I asked them, my voice low.
“The territory known as Blueridge Hollow will fall under the Pack Council for protection.”
Killian bared his teeth. Diesel took a single step forward—one I barely stopped with a hand on his chest. Rowen went still beside me, her wolf coiled like a drawn bow. Through it all, I didn’t look away from Deryn.
“You can try,” I murmured, my tone quiet and deadly, and I saw his swallow. “But you won’t succeed.”
I’d just challenged a member of the Pack Council, and the room held its breath.
The oldest alpha at the table cleared his throat. “For the sake of transparency, there are…tests to determine the legitimacy of dominion. Old rites. Not performed in generations. But there is a shaman on the Pack Council who could do this.”
Shaman.
My skin went cold. Old rites. Shamanic rites. The kind of shaman whose presence followed me like a dogged demon. I didn’t know if their intent for me was in my pack’s best interest.
“And you want me to submit to one,” I said. “A shaman?”
“We require it,” another replied.
I let the fury simmer muted but lethal in my chest. “Fine,” I said. “But understand this.” I leaned in, voice barely more than a whisper. “You’re not the only ones watching.”
Deryn frowned. “What does that mean?”
“Nothing you’ll live long enough to appreciate.”
The chamber was quiet, and if the silence had been heavy before, now, it was afraid.
“You know what’s interesting,” Diesel said loudly, breaking every rule of decorum in this damned chamber. “From where I’m standing? Looks like the only thing that needs dealing with in here is the collective brain cell you Council members share.”
Every alpha at the table jerked back as if he’d thrown a rock at their heads. Killian made a strangled noise. Rowen’s fingers tightened around mine. I shut my eyes for one second, praying to the Goddess for strength.
Deryn stood so fast his chair scraped across the wooden floor of the dais. “You will silence your dog—”
Diesel barked a laugh. “Dog? No. This can’t be right. It’s a fucked-up day when I’m the polite one. If my alpha wasn’t in the room, I’d be less polite.”
“Diesel,” I warned.
He ignored me completely. He stepped forward just enough to be noticed but not enough to be dragged out and executed for stepping over the line.
No, he was in the sweet spot. That place between insubordination and outright rebellion.
Of course, he was the kind of wolf to have memorized its location.
“You’re worried about Wolfe’s dominion?” Diesel said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Worried Wolfe’s too strong? Too respected? Too followed?” He shrugged. “Sounds like a you problem. Not a Pack Council problem.”
The older male sputtered. “This is highly—”
“Accurate?” Diesel offered.
“Inappropriate!” Deryn snapped.
Diesel blinked slowly. “So is accusing my alpha of treason because we need more wolves like him and fewer alphas like you.”
Killian moved closer to him, his hand on his arm. Diesel shook him off like he weighed nothing.
“And let’s talk about what you’re really so rattled about,” Diesel continued, pacing now.
“You all smell it on him. You know his claim is real. You know exactly what it means. But instead of maybe respecting it—since, you know, he’s a worthy alpha—you want to call him a traitor?
” He held up both hands. “I mean, sure. That’s one strategy. A dumb one.”
One elder actually giggled. Rowen’s wolf purred through the bond, amused and approving. Mine did the opposite.
I stepped forward a fraction. “Diesel.”
He turned his head only slightly. “What? I’m helping.”
“You’re going to get executed.”
“I’d like to see them try.”
Deryn slammed his hand on the table. “Alpha! Control your subordinate!”
Diesel smirked. “Good luck with that.”
I exhaled murderously. “Diesel. Stand down.”