Chapter 262

Nathan

With a heavy heart, I made my way to the Council building.

The sun hadn’t fully risen yet, but the damage the marauders had done to the historic building was evident even in the early morning dim. The Council building, which had stood for generations as a symbol of our pack’s strength and unity, was now defaced.

The entrance, which was built from the finest marbles, was vandalized with distasteful graffiti mocking our lineage. Windows which had withstood centuries of wear were shattered. Walking through the halls felt like traversing through a forgotten war zone, with every footprint echoing loss.

I was met with the steely gazes of the three Elders—Mingan, Corbin, and Amara. Mingan’s silver hair, usually neatly pulled back, looked slightly disheveled. Corbin’s broad shoulders seemed more hunched than usual. And Amara’s normally sparkling eyes bore an angry fire.

Behind them stood Freya, her auburn hair cascading over her shoulders. She was silent as usual, but her green eyes spoke volumes. Regardless of how I felt about the Elders, this was their sanctuary. And it had been vandalized.

“It seems,” Corbin began, his deep voice echoing in the vandalized chamber, “that while you’ve been playing house, Ryan’s been playing war. Or have you forgotten already?”

Before I could answer, Mingan’s usually soft voice carried a sharpness I had become all too familiar with over the past months. “Every time we think you’re taking this seriously, Nathan, you prove us wrong. Going out for ice cream? Really?”

I swallowed, feeling as though I had been lined up for a serious lashing.

“What I do with my friends and family is of no concern to you,” I said. “And frankly, Mingan, I would think that you would understand that an Alpha taking part in public leisure is a good thing for morale. It shows the citizens that I won’t be deterred by Ryan’s bullying behavior.”

Mingan’s face turned a slight shade of red. She was clearly perturbed by the fact that I was standing up to her.

“No matter,” she said, waving her hand dismissively. “What does matter is that the Council building, the beacon of hope and order in our pack, was vandalized. And it was your guards who let the weasel slip past.”

Before I could answer, the main doors swung open. Samuel, the head of our guard, rushed in. His usual confident stride was replaced with a reluctant shuffle.

“Samuel,” I said, turning to face him. I folded my arms across my chest, leveling him with a steely gaze—more so to show the Elders that I wasn’t the weakling they thought I was than anything else. “What happened last night? I hope you have a damn good reason as to why you and your men weren’t at your posts.”

“I do have an explanation, sir,” Samuel said, sounding somewhat ashamed. “Forgive me. But last night, there was a ruckus; howling, barking, something running around. We thought that it was a teenager or someone playing tricks, so I sent one of my men to go and stop them.”

“One man?” I asked. “So what happened with the others?”

“That’s the thing, sir,” Samuel continued, his face turning a little red with embarrassment. “It wasn’t a teenager, or anything of the sort. It was a… monster.”

Amara scoffed. “A monster!” she exclaimed, a wry chuckle escaping her lips. “And what then? Did you see a unicorn, too?”

“Let him finish, Amara,” I growled.

A younger guard, face as pale as the moon, stepped forward. "It's true! It was a werewolf like us, that much is true; but it was enormous, bigger than any wolf I’ve ever seen. It had jet black fur, and glowing red eyes. And… And…”

“Spit it out,” I said.

The younger guard swallowed. “I swear, sir. It was… Spitting fire.”

A heavy silence hung over the room when the younger guard finished speaking. That silence was quickly broken by the sound of the Elders laughing.

“A monster! Spitting fire!” Corbin cackled, slapping his knee. “Ah, what a good story. Were you high last night?”

“No, sir,” the younger guard said, averting his eyes to the ground. “We all saw it.”

Instinctively, I looked to the older guard for confirmation. He merely nodded and stared grimly at the floor.

My mind raced. An enormous black wolf with red eyes? My thoughts had immediately gone to Alvin, but… spitting fire? It made no sense. But the guards were adamant, and I believed them.

“This is preposterous,” Mingan said, giving the guards a dismissive wave of her hand. “Be gone. You’re lucky you’re not put in confinement for your lies.”

The weight of responsibility pressed down on me, but I had to stay strong for my pack. “We need answers, not blame,” I said. “If Ryan has tapped into powers we aren’t familiar with, we must adapt.”

“Adapt?” Mingan’s voice was icy. “We needed foresight, not adaptation. You were too busy playing Alpha-love with Olivia while your pack suffered.”

Anger surged within me, but I fought to stay calm. “Olivia is as much a part of this pack as any of us. She’s proven herself repeatedly.”

Samuel cleared his throat, drawing our attention. “We also found this among the wreckage.” He held out a torn piece of paper. Drawn on it was a symbol I knew all too well—it was the mark of Ryan’s pack.

A bloody paw print, signifying the Redclaws and their equally bloody intentions.

“It’s an official declaration of war,” I muttered.

Amara’s eyes widened, but her voice remained cold. “It’s a slap to our face, Nathan. All because you wouldn’t hand Elliot over.”

Elliot was my son, biological or not. Handing him over to Ryan was never an option. “We don’t negotiate with traitors or terrorists,” I said sternly. “That’s been our code since time immemorial.”

The room fell silent, with only the sound of the wind howling through the broken windows. The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on all of us.

“Whatever we decide,” I finally said, my voice carrying every ounce of Alpha authority I possessed, “we must do it united. Ryan wants to break us, turn us against each other. We can’t let him win.”

Corbin’s eyes met mine, and for a moment, I saw what almost looked like a hint of approval in their gray depths. “Then lead, Nathan. But no more mistakes. This pack cannot afford any.”

Mingan and Amara nodded in apprehensive agreement, which was all I needed. Behind them, Freya’s green-eyed gaze remained steady, unwavering.

“The thing you fear might just be true,” I heard her voice echo in my mind, unbeknownst to everyone else. “Perhaps an old friend might just be at the center of this. And perhaps he is the spy you were hunting.”

“But spitting fire?” I asked, feeling incredulous. “It makes no sense.”

“Witchcraft rarely makes sense,” Freya replied. She said nothing more after that, but I understood her implications.

What if something had been awakened in Alvin when we restored his hand? What if… we dug our own grave by doing so?

And yet, for the first time that morning, I felt a glimmer of hope. Together, we could face any challenge.

But the road ahead was long, filled with uncertainty and danger. The meeting stretched for hours, with strategies debated and responsibilities assigned. I had to find a way to safeguard the pack, protect Olivia and our children, and prepare for the war Ryan was instigating.

As the meeting adjourned, the Elders dispersed, each lost in thought.

I stayed behind, staring at Ryan’s symbol on the paper. A vow formed within me. No matter the cost, I had to protect my pack and make those responsible pay.