Chapter 207

Olivia

Dawn painted the sky with hues of pinks and oranges as we approached the Council building, its towering gray stone walls adorned with banners that fluttered in the early morning breeze.

The square outside the building, typically a tranquil space, was alive with an electric tension. Conversations, animated gestures, and whispers painted the scene with an atmosphere of anticipation.

The crowd’s sheer volume was unprecedented. There had been a sea of supporters before when we held the first meeting at the villa, but there were even more now.

Faces, young and old, from various walks of life and lineages, all had gathered. Some stared in curiosity, while others whispered among themselves, eyes darting to us and then back to their circles.

I could feel my heart racing, the enormity of the situation weighing heavily on me. Nathan, sensing my discomfort, wrapped an arm around my waist, drawing me close.

“We knew this wouldn’t be easy," he whispered, his warm breath caressing my ear. “But remember, they’re not just challenging us; they’re challenging our rights, our love, our very future.”

I nodded, taking solace in his words, and we continued our walk towards the heart of the square. The crowd parted, their eyes tracking our movements, the air thick with a mix of anticipation and apprehension.

Suddenly, the grandiose doors of the Council building groaned, signaling the entrance of the revered Elders. Garbed in their usual ornate robes, symbolizing their ranks and the ancient traditions they upheld, they stepped out in a choreographed procession, exuding authority and power.

However, the moment they took in the scene—the sheer size of the gathered assembly—their well-practiced masks of indifference faltered. Wide-eyed, they exchanged glances, clearly not expecting such a gathering.

Elder Mingan, always the most imposing figure among them with her silver-streaked hair and stern demeanor, was the first to approach. She studied Nathan, her piercing blue eyes narrowing.

“Nathan,” she said, her voice dripping with disdain. “What is this spectacle?”

Nathan didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he brushed past Mingan and guided me toward a raised stone dais in the square’s center, ensuring we stood elevated above the crowd. As he stepped forward, every sound seemed to die down, an attentive hush blanketing the vast gathering.

“My fellow wolves,” Nathan began, his voice echoing across the square. “Today, I stand before you to evoke the Supreme Alpha Right to Homeland.”

I felt a collective gasp run through the crowd. The Elders, initially poised with rehearsed grace, looked genuinely taken aback.

Elder Amara, with her flowing raven-black hair and sharp eyes, was the first to regain her composure. Laughing dryly, she remarked, “Such ancient rights? Are you trying to resurrect the old tales, young Alpha?”

Nathan held her gaze unwaveringly. “Our traditions and rights, no matter how old, were established for a reason. Today, I find cause to remind the Council of these very rights. To remind the Council that the Elders are not the only ones who are in charge; I, as the Supreme Alpha, have rights of my own.”

The murmurs grew louder, whispers passing like rapid fire. There was confusion, awe, and for some, disbelief.

The Right to Homeland; it was an ancient right, one which hadn’t been used in over a century. It allowed an Alpha, in the event of being usurped by his or her Council, to remain in his or her home; and if the Council still refused to see reason, the Alpha could declare their property its own sovereign pack, which could lead to war and unrest.

It was an outcome that I was certain the Elders would want to avoid.

But Nathan wasn’t done.

“Beyond the Right to Homeland, my family is under threat,” he declared, pointing down to where our twin babies lay, ensconced in soft blankets, their innocent faces oblivious to the tension around them.

Beside them, Angela stood, her hand on the stroller and a determined look in her eyes. “The Redclaws seek to challenge our lineage,” Nathan continued. “They threaten to steal away our pack’s rightful Alpha heirs. If we refuse, they will declare war. The Elders expect us to just lie down and take it.”

A chorus of growls and mutters erupted from various pockets of the crowd. It was evident where many of their loyalties lay: with Nathan, their Supreme Alpha.

Elder Corbin, his face now a deep shade of crimson, snapped. “These claims! They border on insanity! Do you take us for fools? Do you think parading these... bastard children around grants you any credibility?”

“It’s not just about credibility, Elder,” Nathan responded, his tone icy. “These children may not be my blood, but they are my legacy. And in light of the threats they face, I evoke the Supreme Alpha Right to Safety.”

Another ancient right: the Right to Safety. As the Supreme Alpha, Nathan had the right to overpower the Elders’ wishes if doing so would protect the Alpha’s bloodline.

However, I was a bit surprised by this choice. Would the Right to Safety really be worth it if war was on the horizon?

Elder Amara smirked, a mocking tilt to her lips as though she could read my mind. “Bold claims require bold proof,” she said. “Your words, young Alpha, are but wind without substance. It’s certainly sweet that you view these children as your own, but the fact of the matter is that they are not of your blood, and thus negligible when it comes to the Right to Safety.”

Feeling the weight of hundreds of eyes on him, Nathan took a deep breath.

“Proof? You want proof of my commitment, of my claim?” With determination burning in his eyes, he turned to face me, taking my hands in his. “I love Olivia. She is my chosen, my heart, my mate. I stand here, ready to bind our souls, our futures, before the entire Council, before every witness here. By doing so, I’ll be taking these children’s blood into my own lineage.”

“He can’t do that—” Corbin began, but Mingan held up her wrinkled hand, stopping him.

“He’s right,” Mingan said, her gray eyes narrowed. “By mating with Miss Olivia, he could accept these children into his bloodline and thus utilize the Right to Safety.”

The square echoed with a multitude of reactions—gasps, whispers, and some shouts of support. The Elders, though, looked unimpressed, their faces masks of skepticism.

Elder Corbin scoffed. “After all your deceptions, you expect us to simply believe this... display? If you think a mere declaration changes anything, you’re gravely mistaken. You two aren’t mates. You’re liars.”

The weight of the situation was choking, each word, each claim, each challenge adding layers to the palpable tension in the air. But nothing prepared me for what happened next.

Elder Mingan’s gaze, cold and calculating, shifted from Nathan and locked onto me.

“Let’s hear it from her, then,” she challenged, an icy smile playing on her lips. “Let’s see if your ‘chosen’ can convince us of the authenticity of this love tale.”

Every eye, previously focused on Nathan, turned to me. The weight of their collective gaze was overwhelming. My heart raced, and a rush of heat flooded my cheeks. All the conversations, the challenges, the declarations, everything had culminated in this one moment.

And suddenly, I felt the entirety of our future, our hopes, our dreams, resting squarely on my shoulders.