Vera
We don’t carry the wounded. We support them. It’s a small distinction, but an important one. We walk into the main pack settlement not as heroes carrying casualties, but as a unit returning from a fight, battered but unbroken.
Lena is on one side of the youngest trainee, Kael, and I am on the other. His arm is slung over my shoulders, his leg wrapped in a makeshift bandage from my own tunic. Blood has soaked through it.
Word spreads like fire in a dry field. Faces appear in doorways, training warriors stop mid-swing, and a crowd gathers in the central square. The whispers are different this time. The scorn and pity from my rejection ceremony are gone, replaced by shock and a rising murmur of disbelief.
They see the blood. They see the exhaustion on our faces. And they see the five members of the western patrol, who should be dead, walking among them.
“Get the healers!” someone shouts. The crowd parts for us. No one meets my eyes directly, but I feel their gazes on me, searching, questioning.
Felix finds us just as the healers take charge of the wounded. He storms out of the Great Hall, Bianca a step behind him, her face a perfect portrait of condescending concern. His eyes are thunderclouds.
“What is the meaning of this?” he demands, his voice a low growl that silences the crowd. “You were assigned to the outcast’s ring, Lena. And you,” he points a finger at me, “were confined to your cabin.”
Lena stiffens, ready for a fight, but I place a hand on her arm.
“Your patrol was ambushed, Alpha,” I say, my voice ringing with clarity. I project it for every wolf nearby to hear. “Fifteen feral wolves. They would all be dead if we had not intervened.”
The senior warrior from the patrol, a man named Fendrel whose loyalty to Felix has always been absolute, steps forward. He’s pale, his arm in a sling, but his voice is firm.
“She speaks the truth, Alpha. They… they came from the rocks. Just like she said.” His eyes flick to me for a split second, filled with a terrifying awe.
Felix’s jaw clenches. He is trapped. To punish us would be to admit his own patrols are inadequate, his own intelligence flawed. He is being publicly outmaneuvered, and he knows it.
“This will be discussed. In my study. Now,” he grits out, turning on his heel.
I nod to Lena. “See to the trainees. Get your wounds looked at. I will handle this.”
She hesitates, her hand on her sword. “He will not be reasoned with.”
“I have no intention of reasoning with him,” I say quietly. Then I turn and follow my rejected mate, the silent eyes of the pack burning into my back.
His study is a room of dark wood, maps, and the smell of power. He slams the door behind us. Bianca circles around to stand beside his large oak desk, like a decorative vulture.
“You think you are clever,” Felix snarls, pacing in front of the cold hearth. “You think one lucky fight makes you a strategist? You defied a direct order.”
“An order that would have cost five lives,” I counter, standing my ground in the center of the room. “Whose order would have been next? The families of those boys? The pack?”
“Do not lecture me on the pack!” he roars. “I am the Alpha! Their lives are in my hands!”
“Then you should be more careful with them,” I reply, my voice dangerously calm. “Your carelessness almost created five widows and ten grieving parents. That is not strength, Felix. It is a liability.”
Bianca gives a tinkling, contemptuous laugh. “She sounds like she’s been reading scrolls. How quaint. Tell me, Vera, did you hit your head when you fell from grace? You are a rejected female playing with knives. Nothing more.”
I turn my head slowly to look at her. “And you are a glorified bed warmer, playing with pack funds. We all have our hobbies.”
Bianca’s smile vanishes. A flash of pure hatred crosses her face before she smoothes it over. Felix stops pacing.
“Get out, Bianca,” he says, not looking at her.
“But Felix…”
“Now.”
She throws me a look that promises retribution before sweeping from the room. The door clicks shut behind her.
“What do you want, Vera?” Felix asks, his voice tired. The rage is still there, but it’s banked behind a wall of grudging pragmatism.
“The Conclave of Alphas is in two days,” I state.
He stares at me. “What of it? You are hardly in a position to be attending any social gatherings.”
“I am not asking to go as your mate,” I say, the words tasting like ash and freedom. “I am going as a warrior delegate.”
He actually laughs, a short, barking sound. “Absolutely not. The absurdity of it… a delegate for what? A faction of one?”
“A delegate for the warriors you neglect,” I shoot back. “The ones you send on milk runs into ambushes. The ones whose warnings you dismiss. The pack saw what happened today. They are talking. They are wondering if their Alpha is paying attention.”
I take a step closer. “You need to show them you are. You need to show them you value the strength of your fighters. That you aren’t so insecure that a single woman with a blade threatens you. You will announce that in recognition of my service to the pack, I will be accompanying you to the Conclave to represent the interests of the patrol units.”
He watches me, his eyes narrowed, the gears turning in his head. He sees the trap, but he also sees the logic. It’s a way for him to spin this, to reclaim the narrative. To make my success look like it was sanctioned by him all along.
“And if I refuse?” he challenges.
“Then the story of how I had to go behind your back to save your men will be the only story anyone tells,” I say softly. “At the Conclave, and here at home. Your choice.”
He hates me. In that moment, the depth of his loathing is a physical presence in the room. But his pride is stronger. He would rather swallow poison than appear weak.
“Fine,” he bites out. “Have your little charade. But know this. At the Conclave, you are a ghost. You do not speak to anyone. You do not look at anyone. You are a symbol, nothing more. Do you understand me?”
“Perfectly,” I say.
I am not going as a symbol. I am going as a statement.
The Conclave is held at the neutral ground of Greyfall Summit, in a great lodge built from ancient mountain pines. The air is thick with the mingled scents of power from a dozen different packs. Alphas and their Lunas stand in groups, their ceremonial attire a riot of color and wealth. I walk in beside Felix, clad in the same black leathers I fought in, now cleaned and oiled. Lena is two steps behind me, her presence a silent, non-negotiable condition of my attendance.
We are an immediate spectacle. A ripple of whispers follows our entrance. Felix ignores them, his head held high, a mask of unbothered authority firmly in place. Bianca, on his other arm, is dripping in silver and malice.
“Look at them all staring,” she murmurs, loud enough for me to hear. “They must think Felix is so progressive, bringing the pack’s charity case out for air.”
“They are wondering why his intended Luna is on his arm while the warrior who saved his patrol walks behind him,” I reply without looking at her. “It raises questions about his priorities.”
Bianca’s nails dig into Felix’s arm, but she says nothing more.
My purpose here is simple. To be seen. To establish that I am a new piece on the board, one that does not belong to Felix. I find a spot near the wall, away from the main thoroughfare, and simply observe.
Lena stands beside me, her posture rigid. “This is a viper’s nest,” she mutters.
“Every viper has a weakness,” I tell her quietly.
It’s then that I feel it. A gaze. Not the curious, gossiping glances of the crowd. This is different. It’s focused, analytical, and heavy. I scan the room, my eyes moving past the preening Alphas and their smiling mates.
And then I find him.
He’s standing near the great central hearth, speaking with an elder from the Stonecrest pack. Alpha Kai of the Silvermoon Pack. I know him by reputation only. Sharp. Ruthless in his defense of his territory. Fair in his judgments. He is taller than Felix, with an easy strength in his posture that Felix has to fake with arrogance. His hair is the color of dark honey, and his eyes, even from across the room, seem to burn with a quiet intensity.
He is not looking at Felix. He is looking at me.
His conversation ends. The elder moves away. Kai does not. He takes a slow sip from a silver goblet, his eyes never leaving mine. There is no judgment in his look, no pity or contempt. It’s something far more unnerving. It’s assessment.
Felix and Bianca move to greet a neighboring Alpha. Their path takes them close to me. As they pass, Bianca makes a show of stumbling, bumping my shoulder hard.
“Oh, clumsy me,” she says, her voice sickly sweet. “It’s so hard to see the shadows when they lurk in the corners.”
The insult is obvious, public. A test. The nearby Alphas fall silent, watching to see how Felix’s little problem will react.
I don’t rise to the bait. I simply meet Bianca’s venomous gaze with a look of utter boredom.
“You should be more careful,” I say, my voice level. “A fall from your position would be a long one.”
Bianca’s face tightens. Felix grabs her arm, his smile strained. “My apologies, Alpha Kai. Internal pack humor.” He nods curtly toward the man by the fire, who has watched the entire exchange.
Alpha Kai’s gaze shifts from me to Felix. A faint, unreadable smile touches his lips.
“Of course,” Kai says, his voice a low, smooth baritone that cuts through the tension. He takes a step forward, his attention moving back to me. “An Alpha who fosters a sense of humor among his warriors is a confident one.”
His eyes meet mine again. It’s a verbal chess move. He has acknowledged me, not as Felix’s accessory, but as a warrior. He has subtly twisted Bianca’s insult into a compliment for me, while simultaneously questioning Felix’s confidence.
Felix’s smile becomes a grimace. He is being played, and he knows it, but he can’t call it out without looking petty.
“My pack is… unconventional,” Felix manages to say.
“So I see,” Kai replies, and his gaze lingers on me for one heartbeat longer than necessary. In that look, I see a sharp, probing intelligence. He sees my leathers, Lena at my side, the animosity from Bianca. He is putting the pieces together.
He gives a slight, almost imperceptible nod in my direction, a sign of respect from one wolf of worth to another. Then he turns and rejoins the flow of the Conclave, leaving a trail of stunned silence in his wake.
I feel a strange warmth spread through my chest. For the first time since my return, I have been truly seen. Not as a problem, not as a victim, not as a madwoman. But as a player.
Lena lets out a breath she was holding. “No one speaks to Felix like that.”
“He just did,” I murmur.
Across the room, Alpha Kai looks back one last time. Our eyes lock. He is intrigued. And in the world of Alphas, intrigue is a dangerous and powerful weapon.
I have Felix’s attention. I have the pack’s attention. Now, it seems, I have his. The game just got infinitely more complicated.
