Chapter 197

Olivia

The muted glow of a solitary lamp flickered, casting shadows that danced across the walls of our cozy living room. At the heart of the room sat Nathan, his brow furrowed in deep concentration.

Various sheets of paper lay scattered around him, evidence of multiple unsuccessful attempts to draft a letter. With each crumpled draft, he grew increasingly agitated.

The pen in his hand trembled with every stroke, and with a frustrated sigh, he set it down, rubbing the bridge of his nose. I watched from the doorway, sensing the weight of responsibility pressing down on him.

As his shoulders hunched, I could see the mantle of the Alpha, a title he wore both with pride and with the inherent burdens that accompanied it. I tiptoed into the kitchen, deciding to brew some calming chamomile tea to soothe his frayed nerves.

The aroma of the tea filled the room, acting as a gentle, olfactory balm. I approached him, setting the cup in front of him.

“You’re pushing yourself too hard,” I whispered, taking the seat across from him.

He looked up, his blue-green eyes filled with weariness and uncertainty. “Every word I put down feels inadequate. I’ve failed as an Alpha. Failed our pack.”

My heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice.

“Nathan,” I began, reaching for his hands, “You’ve done everything in your power to keep our family safe, united. One letter, one decision, doesn’t define your worth as a leader.”

He swallowed hard, avoiding my gaze. “I know you think I’ve been dismissive of Elliot and Aurora.”

I felt a twinge of guilt. “I’m sorry. My words were harsh yesterday, and it wasn’t fair of me to imply you didn’t care about them. They’re your family too.”

He looked up, eyes glistening.

“I don’t hold it against you, Liv. Your fierceness, your protectiveness—it’s what any mother would feel. I just… I feel so lost. Between my father’s actions, the passing of the Ancient Wolf, and now these challenges… it feels like the very foundation of our pack is crumbling.”

“And now,” he hesitated, searching my face, “I fear the Elders will use this as a reason to evict us. To condemn you and our children to the life of rogues.”

A cold shiver ran down my spine at the thought. Before I could respond, Nathan took both my hands, his grip firm but gentle.

“Listen to me, Olivia,” he said with fierce determination, “no matter what the Elders decide, no matter the challenges ahead, I promise you, I won't let anything happen to our family.”

The conviction in his voice was unwavering. He leaned in, capturing my lips in a soft, lingering kiss that spoke of promises, love, and an unyielding resolve.

…

The tranquil morning sun poured through the gaps in our curtains, basking the room in a warm, golden glow.

The twins were nestled against my chest, their small breaths rhythmic, punctuating the ambient peace. Their innocence was a striking contrast to the turmoil that had overtaken our pack in the past weeks.

As I hummed softly, lulling them further into slumber, an unanticipated knock at the door shattered the moment. It wasn’t a casual knock, but one that commanded attention and respect.

I felt a knot of anxiety instantly form in my stomach. Nathan and I exchanged a swift, knowing glance, both aware that this was no ordinary visit.

Drawing my robe tighter around me, I approached the door, each step weighed down by trepidation. As the door swung open, I was met with an array of stern expressions—the Council of Elders, all gathered on our doorstep, an unlikely occurrence unless matters of grave importance were at hand.

“Good morning, Olivia,” Elder Lysandra greeted, her cerulean eyes, which usually sparkled with warmth, now bore into mine with a cold seriousness. Behind her stood Elders Amara, Enoch, Mingan, and Corbin, their collective presence emitting an aura of stern determination.

“Elders,” I responded, attempting to keep my voice steady. “To what do we owe this visit?”

Without a word, Elder Amara stepped forward, producing a neatly folded parchment from the confines of her robe. She handed it to me with a delicate, yet firm grip. I could sense Nathan’s presence close by, his gaze fixated on the piece of paper that now rested in my hands.

Unfolding it, I was met with the ornate script of the Council—clear, precise, and formal. An eviction notice. My heart stuttered. A whirlwind of emotions coursed through me; disbelief, anger, sorrow.

“You would force me, a mother with two newborns, out of our only home?” My voice quaked with a mix of anger and despair.

Elder Enoch, usually a paragon of patience and kindness, stepped forward, his face etched with regret.

“Olivia, the Ancient Wolf is gone, and its passing brought with it omens we cannot ignore. With a rival Alpha now meddling in our affairs, we cannot—will not—jeopardize the pack’s future.”

I could feel Nathan’s energy surge beside me, the protective Alpha within him clawing its way to the surface.

“You’ve hardly given us any time,” Nathan hissed, wrapping his arm tightly around my shoulders. “It’s only been two days. Give me time, and I’ll remedy this; no one has to be evicted.”

Elder Lysanda sighed, her eyes narrowing. “We have given you all of the time we possibly could, Nathan,” she replied. “You have squandered it. You have failed to heed the Redclaws’ demands, knowing fully well the implications of doing so. You have failed to heed our traditions and cast out the bad omens. You have failed as Alpha.”

Every word felt like a knife, cutting deep, reminding us of our perceived failure in the eyes of our ancestors. I shot back, “But this is our home, our lineage. How can you stand there, justifying casting us out based on tales and omens?”

Elder Corbin, with his perpetual stern demeanor, interjected, “Tales and omens that have guided our people for generations. This decision wasn’t made lightly, Olivia. But it is the consensus. You and the children must leave; if you refuse to hand the child over to the Redclaws, that will fall on you. But it cannot fall on our pack.”

Nathan, having remained silent, finally spoke, his voice laced with a quiet fury. “Then let it be known: if you evict Olivia, you evict me as well. I am the only living heir of Colin, the Supreme Alpha of our pack.”

Elder Amara, her age evident in the lines on her face and the wisdom in her eyes, sighed deeply. “It’s been done before, Nathan. Appointing a new Supreme Alpha is not unprecedented. The pack will adapt, survive, and grow stronger.”

Nathan’s expression was one of disbelief. “You would discard me, the last link to Colin, so easily?”

Elder Lysandra responded, her tone unyielding, “For the safety of the pack, we will make the hard choices, even if it means sacrificing ties to the past.”

I could feel the weight of their collective judgment bearing down on us. The history of our pack, the tales of courage, loyalty, and sacrifice, now hung in the balance, overshadowed by prophecies and fears.

“But surely,” I began, desperate to find a foothold, “there must be another way. A way to keep our family intact and ensure the safety of the pack. Exiling us only creates more rifts, more potential threats.”

Elder Enoch looked at me, sadness clouding his gaze. “Sometimes, Olivia, ensuring safety means removing the source of potential danger, no matter how painful it may be.”

The finality in his voice was clear. No room for negotiation, no hope for an alternative solution.

Nathan took a step forward, his face inches from Elder Enoch’s, the tension palpable.

“Remember this day,” he hissed, “when you turned your backs on your own.”

Elder Corbin, attempting to diffuse the situation, responded, “We have always acted in the pack’s best interest, even when it meant personal sacrifice. This is no different.”

The weight of the eviction notice in my hand, the somber expressions of the Elders, and Nathan’s simmering anger—all converged, forming a vortex of hopelessness. Our world was being torn asunder, our ties to the pack severed with a swift, calculated decision.

As the Elders turned to leave, the magnitude of their decree began to truly set in. Silently, they walked away, their departure signifying the end of an era of bonds that once seemed unbreakable.

In the wake of their departure, Nathan and I stood side by side in the doorway, our eyes wide with disbelief.