Chapter Twenty-Eight
Eldrick
Abalcony stretched along the perimeter of Lār’s fifth story, granting a bird’s-eye view above the village.
Solemnity hung in the air as thick as the winter cold.
Below, pyres dotted the village. Their flames roared, and embers twisted into the snow drifting on the winds.
Evelyn, Yen, and Nadia held Tovi as she said goodbye to her friend Lou, the baker’s pyre decorated with purple ribbon instead of Drengr navy.
Eldrick’s legs tingled with restlessness, his body warring to get to Tovi, to comfort her, but his heart ached with the truth. Riven’s attack had shown them that being together didn’t work. It jeopardized peace too greatly.
Approaching boots echoed across the stone. “There you are.”
Eldrick greeted his father with a half-smile.
Aramis rested his elbows on the balcony, spring eyes roaming over their village. “Why aren’t you down there with her?”
Eldrick exhaled. His father had never addressed his relationship with Tovi, not so directly, but now there was nothing to discuss. Perhaps admitting it out loud, saying the truth to his father made it more real.
“Because that is not my place,” he said, words as sharp as daggers.
The wind whipped down the balcony, but he ignored its frigid bite. Let the land rage. Let his body yearn. His heart belonged to the werewolves as it pulsed with alpha blood. This was his purpose, and the vampyr queen, the woman he loved, had hers.
Aramis nodded, lips set in a thin line. Snow collected in the fur of his cloak, and Eldrick paused, noting his father’s many layers—dark traveling leathers, navy wool tunic, belt fastened with both his axe and sword, and riding gloves.
The realization dawned on Eldrick like the slow melt of a snowflake against his skin.
“You’re leaving.”
His father sighed. “Yes.”
“But where? The Earl vote—”
“Is yours to secure, not mine.”
Eldrick reared straighter, replaying his father’s words. He waited for his father to clarify or correct himself, but Aramis’s sights focused below.
On Eldrick’s mother.
“I don’t understand,” Eldrick breathed.
His father frowned. “You mother has decided to return to Drystan as a spy again, and I’m going with her. Her presence in the village will only hurt the Drengr’s chances at the Earl vote, as will I—”
“Father—”
His father’s adamant expression stopped him short.
“I spoke to the other alphas regarding the decree, and they’re no longer confident in my ability to serve as Earl.
Their signatures should’ve been telling enough, but it is worse than I thought.
Alpha Skau still questions my health. Thorn and Drabek are wary of the future. The rest simply don’t trust me.”
Eldrick shook his head. “That is because Bjorn has poisoned their minds against you.”
His father scoffed, grasping the balcony’s edge. “Oh, I’m sure of it. That prick has waited for me to fuck up as Earl for almost twenty-seven years.”
“Then convince the rest of the alphas he is dividing the werewolves for the sake of his pride,” Eldrick said.
Aramis’s exhale plumed into the cold late-night air. “I blew that chance the moment I refused to hand your mother over to Riven.”
“She is your mate,” Eldrick hissed.
Aramis winced. “She is also a vampyr, son. They’ll never accept her.”
His father’s rushed words came out pointed. Eldrick swallowed, knees locking as he understood his father’s stern tone. He meant more than one her in this instance.
Aramis assessed the forest. “It takes a real leader to set aside their wants, Eldrick.”
“I know,” he said.
He’d seen it with his mother, sacrificing these last ten years for the prophecy’s promise. She’d stayed away. From her pack, sons, and mate. Eldrick admired her ability to put her duty above all else, and now, his father was doing the same.
“You’re ready.” Aramis grasped his shoulder. “Have been for some time now.”
Eldrick had craved his father’s approval. All his life he’d trained to become alpha. It’d been in the palm of his hand weeks ago when his father had given him the option to ascend, but with his father healed and mother home, he’d set aside the notion.
“I feel like I’m robbing you of your right,” Eldrick whispered.
His father scoffed. “When your mother became pregnant, I knew our first child would one day take my place. How and when was up to fate. But what greater honor is there than to witness the male I’m proud to call my son become the Drengr Alpha?”
Eldrick’s throat grew thick. “Do you really think I have a chance of winning the vote?”
“Yes. The other alphas will trust you more than Bjorn, but it won’t be easy.”
Eldrick’s wolf grew restless. If he didn’t win, the Johannes alpha would, and werewolves didn’t stand a chance in the war to come if their new leader refused to form an alliance based on prejudice.
The wind howled as the pyres shrank to cinders.
Eldrick tracked the mountain range on the horizon, ignoring Opal’s voice whispering in the back of his mind.
Those of these lands will unite . . . Perhaps the line was much simpler—he as Earl, she as queen, together uniting werewolves and vampyrs under their titles.
For Eldrick’s heart beat for werewolves and his alpha blood bonded to the Vadon Mountains, just like his mother and father’s. He’d known this day would come all his life.
“I’d rather avoid a frilly ceremony,” he finally said.
His father laughed, and the pride shining across his eyes sharpened the rightness of Eldrick’s decision.
“How about a handshake between a father and son?” Aramis asked.
Eldrick rolled up his sleeve and extended his right hand out, heart pounding. He had no idea what to expect—this sort of ascension was so rare, he’d not read about it in books, only heard whispers from those who’d wondered when this day would come for the Drengr Pack.
A given exchange of power.
Aramis removed his glove, revealing his alpha tattoo.
He clasped Eldrick’s forearm, and a warm magic thrummed from his father’s touch.
The ink on his father’s skin grew faint, and pearly white tattoos came alive on Eldrick’s hand, around his fingers and wrist, and disappeared up his sleeve.
They shone like the moon on a clear night as Aramis chanted an ancient tongue, words that were equally foreign as they were familiar, like Eldrick had heard them all his life.
Snow whirled around them, trapping them in a tunnel of flurries. Eldrick tightened his grip as the power bit through his skin. Like dunking into a frozen lake, the cold burned his skin.
Soon, Aramis’s alpha tattoo vanished completely, and Eldrick’s shined with the might of the full moon. His wolf howled in his blood, and a new sense awakened.
The whispers of his pack. The perimeters of the village. The hearts and minds of those he led.
Once the power transferred from father to son, a sonic boom emitted from them. Snow blew backward. The surrounding trees leaned. The lands shook.
It was done.
Eldrick had ascended and was now Alpha Drengr.