Chapter 171

Leaving the building, we search for Scott and find him some ways away, inspecting the pushed down grass by the wall.

Caleb, with the half-burned photo of me tucked into his pocket, is still furious, but he seems to try to be calming himself as he speaks to Scott with a level tone.

“Do you have any hope of tracking them?” Caleb asks.

“Yes. With how many they are in number, they leave a big trail,” Scott replies, “But it’s going to take some time to catch up with them again.”

“Do it,” Caleb says.

Scott nods.

“For now.” Caleb looks back at me. “There’s nothing more you and I can do but return to the palace. I have much I need to attend to.”

When he says the words, a sort of dread fills me. I know very well the types of things that are waiting for him back at the palace.

Mainly, his wedding.

Caleb so caught up with his own anger and his plans doesn’t even seem to realize what he said or how it might hurt me. Instead, he’s already walking toward the edge of the fort, ready to leave.

The only thing I can do is follow along behind him, heart heavy from both what we’ve seen and what awaits us when we return.

As soon as Caleb returns to his palace, stepping back over the threshold, he is annoyed. Compared to when they left, the number of people within the palace walls has seemed to have quadrupled. Flowers sit in every corner. Streamers drape over every opening.

Caleb has half a mind to tear it all down and rage, but he has other things to focus on now. The first is speaking with the Alpha Council.

Caleb flags down a nearby servant scrambling about. “You. Begin to gather the Alpha Council in the Hall.”

The servant seems confused. Annoyance flashes hot through Caleb; he isn’t used to be denied.

“Forgive me, Alpha King,” the servant says, bowing low. “It’s just that the Hall is currently being decorated.”

Caleb curls his hand into a fist, that hot annoyance sharpening to anger. Then, Harper steps out of his shadow, joining him at his side. She touches his arm.

“We should see it for ourselves,” she says.

Her calming presence settles over Caleb like a warm blanket, relaxing him.

“Very well,” he says.

They turn away from the terrified servant and walk to the stairs. Ascending the stairs, the decorations seem to only increase in their number and level of decadence.

“They cover my palace in expensive finery without care how the commoners are suffering,” Caleb says.

Harper glances at him with wide eyes. He huffs at her surprise. After all this time, and all they have seen on their journey, did she truly believe that he could still be indifferent to the plight of his people? He told her he needed to attend to things when they returned. What did she think he meant?

On the main level, they walk out of the stairwell and proceed to the Hall. As the servant warned, the Hall is filled with ladders and workers decorating every square in. Florists haul huge amounts of flowers around the room. Painters are working on some kind of mural behind Caleb’s throne.

This is much more than he agreed to – or at least, what he thought he was agreeing to – when he left on his trip.

He needed to speak with his mother about this.

But first, the Council.

“I’m not sure everyone will fit in here,” Harper says, looking around. A heavy frown pulls at her lips. Seeing it makes my chest tighten uncomfortably, though I’m not totally sure why. I don’t have time to evaluate this right now.

“We can fit in the gym. Or perhaps the gardens.”

Harper sneezes. “The gardens might be nice.”

Caleb relays the message to one of my servants, then walk outside. With how many pack Alphas there are, plus Caleb’s advisors, they wouldn’t fit in the gardens, exactly, with its more narrow walkways. Instead, they head to the courtyard.

Eventually the pack Alphas slowly start to exit the building, gathering for the meeting Caleb has required.

Harper stays at Caleb’s side, unusually quiet. He wants to ask her what holds her tongue, but with their growing audience, the time is no longer appropriate.

She’s probably just nervous, anyway.

When everyone has gathered, Caleb raises her hands to bring them to silence. Then he speaks.

“We have returned from our venture for information,” Caleb says. “We have much to share.”

Caleb tells them of their journey, of how the further they traveled from the palace, the more sympathetic the commoners were of the rebels, while despising Caleb and his laws. Eventually, he shares what he saw at the old fort, about the evidence of a large army. Finally, Caleb nods to Harper, who produces the paper with Samuel’s handwriting.

Samuel had already called ahead and had one of his scribes retrieve some correspondence from Samuel. Comparing the handwriting of the scrap of paper from the fort to the correspondence, the similarities are obvious.

Harper was right about the way Samuel crosses his T’s and makes his E’s. Caleb should be happy about that, but irritation scratches at him instead.

This proof should be enough that the letter found at the fort where the rebel army was, was written by Samuel.

“That doesn’t mean he’s their leader,” one of the Alphas says. “He could simply be a member.”

“The paper was found in an interior location,” Caleb says. “A place where only leaders were likely to commiserate away from everyone else.”

“I’m sorry, Alpha King,” says one of the older Alphas. “I just cannot fathom that pitiful boy to be any kind of leader of this great army you say the rebellion has.”

“We need to take this seriously,” Caleb says, frustration growing. While he has tried to meet the demands of the pack Alphas to gain their approval, he knows he does not need it to demand their armies. He only has to say the word, and they would be forced to follow his commands.

With that army, he could squash Samuel and his rebellion.

But his Council would be fractured. Even with his mate sickness, he knows that dividing his kingdom further is not the answer for long-term peace.

“Perhaps, Alpha King,” says another Alpha, one with a middle ground of experience, “We should pause this conversation until after your wedding.”

“He speaks true,” says another, younger one. “A new husband should enjoy his wedding and his bride!” He laughs. “I bet you’ll be busy for many days and nights!”

A few others chuckle, though the older ones glance back at him in warning.

The young man doesn’t see the way Caleb’s hand curls into a fist. He doesn’t know that in his mind, he’s already determining the best way to remove all of this young man’s limbs from his body.

How dare this boy tell him what he should be focusing on? Caleb is the Alpha King, and the kingdom is on the brink of civil war!

Caleb is the only one in this room, apparently, with the correct priorities, but he’s not going to leave it the only one.

Growling, Caleb takes a single step forward.

It’s intimidating enough for the entire room to quiet. The young man, finally realizing his error, pales.

Yet just at that moment, Harper places her hand on Caleb’s shoulder.

It’s a soft touch, with about as much strength as a fly. Yet, he finds himself stopping, yielding to Harper’s request.

“Don’t,” she whispers, and somehow, just like that, Caleb’s wolf eases.