Chapter 16 - Arthur
Arthur woke with a headache and a hollow ache in his chest.
He’d slept, technically. Long enough to dream of the slammed door, sparks skittering over his hands, and Dani’s hair as she whipped around and strode away from him.
The bond sat low and sore under his skin, muffled on her side. Curtains drawn.
He deserved that.
Didn’t mean the summit would wait for him to sort his shit out.
He hauled on jeans, a clean shirt, his thick jumper and coat.
“You look like shit,” Chase observed from the doorway.
Arthur grunted, “You’re still breathing. Tragedy.”
Chase fell in beside him on the stairs. “I see you’re still in an excellent mood.”
Arthur only growled at his brother.
Cold slapped them as they stepped outside. Skymist lay below, roofs iced, the sea a flat strip of steel. Arthur barely saw it. His mind kept circling the conversation he hadn’t had with Dani, the apology that kept dying in his throat.
Wolves first, his father’s voice, as always.
Even me? Even her? Dani’s cutting across it.
He shoved both aside as they reached the Chilkat Inn.
Too many wolves were already there.
Nordan bodies packed the main room in tight knots, mugs clenched, voices low and sharp. The usual easy murmur was gone. The air tasted of coffee, sweat, and something sour.
Every head turned when Arthur stepped in. Conversations thinned to a murmur.
“Well, that’s not ominous,” Chase muttered.
Fenred sat near the bar, shoulders bunched, gaze hooded. Hunters clustered around him. Along the left wall, Alex had claimed the central table, legs stretched out, two younger wolves flanking him like lieutenants.
Arthur let his wolf rise just enough to push a steady weight through the room.
“You’re all up early,” he said. “We run out of beds?”
A couple of tight laughs. Mostly silence.
Alex tipped his chair back, mug dangling from his fingers, “We figured we should talk,” he said, “seeing as our alpha’s been making…interesting choices.”
Chase’s fingers brushed Arthur’s arm. Careful.
Arthur walked further in, Chase half a step behind, “If you’ve got something to say,” he replied, “say it.”
Alex smiled without warmth. “You’ve been busy, Arthur.
Taking a Salem witch as a mate. Moving her into the alpha house.
Bringing her sisters here. Inviting Volnoye to the summit without saying a word to your own pack.
” His gaze flicked to the bite mark at Arthur’s throat.
“Some of us are wondering if you remember who you’re meant to be leading. ”
A low rumble went through a few younger wolves.
“Nordan first,” someone muttered.
Arthur’s wolf bristled. He kept his tone flat, “I’m doing what an alpha does,” he said, “keeping this town safe.”
“By putting witches in our beds and traitors on our borders,” Alex said softly, “bold plan.”
“Careful,” Chase said lightly.
Alex didn’t look at him. His pale eyes stayed on Arthur. “We’ve bled for this land,” he said, “for you. But there’s a line between compromise and forgetting what we are.”
He set his mug down with a click.
“We’re asking,” he said, “if you still know where that line is.”
Arthur felt the room leaning in. Fenred’s jaw was clenched so hard a muscle jumped. He hadn’t spoken. His silence said plenty.
“You talking about we,” Arthur asked, “or you?”
Alex lifted his hands. “I’m just the one saying it out loud,” he said, “but I’m not the only one thinking it.”
He jerked his chin toward a knot of wolves near the back. Males Arthur had run with for years suddenly found their boots fascinating.
It stung. He didn’t let it show.
“All right,” Arthur said quietly. He stepped up to Alex’s table, light catching the scar down his face. “Anyone here who thinks I’m not fit to lead,” he said, his voice carrying, “you had the spine to whisper it to him. Have the spine to say it to me. Now.”
Silence stretched.
For a moment, he thought Alex had overreached, and the room would slink back into line.
Then one of the younger wolves, Eddy, barely out of puphood, cleared his throat.
“You…invited the Volnoye,” he said, ears pink, “didn’t tell us.
You’ve always said hybrids were the enemy, but you bring in wolves who rebelled against our closest allies.
You mated a witch without announcing it officially to the pack.
We’re not saying you’re…bad, Alpha. Just…
” he shrugged helplessly, “everything’s changing. Fast.”
“We’re wondering if you’re seeing clear,” an older hunter added, “or if the bond’s got you turned. After all, she is a—”
Arthur’s sharp growl stopped the male’s words in his throat.
Alex’s smile sharpened. “See?” he said, “not just me.”
Chase inhaled, and Arthur shot him a look. Don’t.
“You’re worried I’ve forgotten who I am,” Arthur said, “who we are.”
“You’re sleeping with the thing we were raised to fear,” Alex said. “You brought more of them into our territory. You invited Volnoye to stand on the ridge and watch our backs. It’s fair to ask if Alpha still fits the male making those calls.”
A few heads dipped, reluctant agreement.
“It’s also fair,” Alex went on, “to remember there are old laws. When an alpha endangers his pack, when he leads us toward ruin, he can be challenged. Replaced. For the good of all.”
There it was. Replaced.
Arthur’s wolf rose, cold and lethal, “You challenging me, Alex?” he asked softly.
Anticipation flickered in Alex’s scent. Ambition, dressed up as duty.
“Not today,” Alex said. “Today, I’m reminding you there’s more on the line than your witch and your guilt. You make the wrong call out there, it’s our people in the ground, not yours alone.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Arthur snapped. Wolves flinched at the crack in his control. “You think I allow this summit, these strangers, for fun? We’re in danger. All of us. The hybrids will not stop, and we cannot fight them alone.”
“And the witches?” Alex asked. “You dragged them here because they’re useful? Or because you couldn’t let one go, so the rest of us get dragged along for the ride?”
The words bit.
Arthur saw Dani in his hallway, fire floating above her palm. His own involuntary flinch.
“Both,” he said, because he was finished lying, “Dominic was right. We need witches. We need their magic. And I wasn’t leaving my mate and my daughter to face this alone.”
Discomfort rolled through the room.
Alex’s mouth curled. “There it is,” he said, “you put them first.”
“He didn’t,” Chase cut in, voice gone flinty, “he said with us. There’s a difference.”
“You’d follow him into a volcano,” someone muttered.
“He’s my brother,” Chase said.
Arthur took a slow breath. “I am not putting witches above Nordan,” he said, “or Volnoye above Nordan. I’m putting the war above my pride. You want an alpha who makes calls based on old grudges instead of what keeps you breathing, you should’ve voted for my father’s ghost.”
A few short, unwilling chuckles.
Alex’s chair thumped down on all four legs. “We want an alpha who remembers who bled for him,” he said, “who doesn’t forget his own when a Salem witch bats her eyes.”
Arthur lunged, and Chase barely caught his arm, restraining him.
He wanted to fight. To rip Alex’s head clean from his shoulders. To remind them all exactly why they called him the Ice Bear.
Before he could break free, a new voice slid into the room.
“I think we’ve all heard enough.”
Every back went rigid.
Julian stepped out of the shadow by the back corridor, coat buttoned, dark hair neat, expression carefully neutral.
“Julian,” Chase muttered.
Julian’s mouth twitched. “Chase,” he said, arching a brow.
He inclined his head to Arthur. “Alpha.”
“Didn’t know you were here,” Arthur said, “you enjoy the show?”
“If you stage it in a public house, it’s not spying,” Julian replied mildly, “it’s people-watching.”
His gaze skimmed the room, taking in Alex, Fenred, the knot of hunters, the younger wolves vibrating with second-hand outrage.
“So,” he said, “is there an official challenge on the table? Or are you all just posturing for fun?”
Alex bristled. “This is Nordan's business,” he said, “Volkhov doesn’t get a say in who leads our pack.”
“Ordinarily, I’d agree,” Julian said, “Nothing I like more than watching someone else tidy their own mess.” His eyes cooled. “Unfortunately, when your mess threatens to blow a hole in an alliance my alpha has spent a decade holding together, my interest…increases.”
Fenred finally looked up, gaze flicking between Arthur and Julian, assessing.
“Nobody’s talking about stabbing,” he rumbled. “We’re just—”
“Concerned,” Julian supplied. “Restless. Unsure if the alpha’s seeing straight. I heard the accusations.”
He stepped further in. He didn’t throw power the way Arthur or Dominic did, but somehow the room still tightened around him.
“Let me be clear,” he said quietly, “if the Nordan decides now is the perfect moment to test their alpha because he mated a witch and invited inconvenient allies, Volkhov will not stand idly by.”
Alex’s lip curled. “You’d interfere in another pack’s succession?” he demanded, “over a witch?”
“Over the fact that a fractured Nordan is a gift to the hybrids,” Julian said, “over the fact that my alpha will not watch the man who stood with him at Voskresen get dragged down by his own for trying to keep us all safe.”
His tone didn’t change, but something hard slipped into it.
“If you move on him,” he said, “we will back Arthur. Publicly. With teeth.”
Shock rippled through the room. A couple of wolves went pale. Fenred’s nostrils flared.
“You’d march against us?” an older hunter asked.