“And what of the madness?” Pack Emerald’s alpha asks, his voice carrying across the hushed room. “How do we know it won’t spread through these… closer associations?”
Before I can respond, Aurora steps forward. “The madness isn’t contagious—it never was. It’s a fae trick, designed to isolate us from each other. To make us fear our own kind.” Her mismatched eyes sweep the room. “I should know. I grew up being feared because everyone thought I carried it.”
Through our bond, I feel the old hurt those memories bring, but also her fierce determination to prevent others from suffering the same fate. My wolf rumbles with pride.
“Besides,” she continues with a slight smile, “I can cure it now. My blood neutralizes fae magic—another gift from my Pack Onyx heritage and the unique protection magic that I carry with me.”
That gets their attention. Several representatives lean forward, their interest piqued. I hide a smile, knowing Aurora has them exactly where she wants them.
“But that’s not all we offer,” I add, moving to stand beside her. “Each pack has unique strengths, knowledge passed down through generations. Pack Obsidian’s hunting techniques.” I nod to their representatives. “Pack Sapphire’s defensive strategies. Pack Amethyst’s combat training.”
“And what does Pack Jade offer besides a venomous bite?” someone calls out from the back.
“Change,” I answer simply. “The courage to admit when old ways aren’t working. The strength to try something new.” My hand finds Aurora’s, our fingers intertwining. “Look at what we’ve accomplished already. My father would have said a shifter who couldn’t shift was weak. That a pack divided by exile was strong. He was wrong on both counts.”
Through our bond, I feel Aurora’s love and support wash over me. It gives me strength to continue.
“The fae are counting on us to stay divided. To cling to old prejudices and fears.” I let my gaze travel around the room, meeting eyes both friendly and hostile. “But they don’t understand what makes us truly strong, even stronger than they could ever be. It’s not our individual powers or territories. It’s our ability to adapt, to grow, to stand together against common threats.”
A murmur of agreement ripples through the crowd. I can sense the pack bonds shifting, realigning as old barriers start to crumble.
“Pack Jade offers leadership,” Aurora picks up smoothly. “Not through dominance or fear, but through example. We’ve learned the hard way what happens when we let pride blind us to truth.” Her fingers tighten on mine. “We’ve paid the price of isolation. Now we offer a different path.”
“And what of those who refuse this alliance?” Pack Amber’s representative asks, although their tone holds more curiosity than challenge.
“Then they stand alone against the fae,” I answer honestly. “We won’t force anyone to join us. But we won’t compromise our principles either. The old ways of fear and control are over.”
“What exactly would this alliance entail?” Pack Diamond’s alpha leans forward, interest clear in his expression.
Aurora and I exchange glances, then begin laying out our proposal. Regular meetings between pack representatives. Shared training programs focusing on fae defense. A network for sharing intelligence about fae movements and activities. Most importantly, a commitment to standing together against common threats.
As we speak, I can feel the energy in the room shifting. The initial skepticism gives way to cautious interest, then growing enthusiasm. Through our bond, Aurora’s satisfaction mingles with my own.
“There’s one more thing,” I add as we wrap up our presentation. “We think we should have regular gatherings between packs—not just for warriors and leaders, but for all pack members. A chance to learn from each other, to build connections beyond traditional pack boundaries and keep our friendships strong.”
“Like the old festivals,” an elder from Pack Sapphire says thoughtfully. “Before the packs grew so isolated.”
“Exactly.” Aurora’s smile is warm. “A celebration of our differences as well as our common ground.”
The discussion that follows is intense but productive. Questions are raised, concerns addressed, details hammered out. Through it all, Aurora and I work in perfect sync, our bond humming with shared purpose, our wolves happy to have us together and strong.
By sunset, we have the beginnings of a formal alliance. Not everyone is completely convinced, and we’ll have to work hard to iron out the details, but enough packs have pledged their support to make it real. As the representatives file out, many stop to offer congratulations or express interest in further discussions.
“That went better than expected,” Dana comments as she joins us, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Although I think the part about Aurora’s venomous bite sealed the deal. Nothing like a secret weapon to get people’s attention.”
Aurora rolls her eyes, but I can feel her pleasure through our bond. “As long as they understand it’s not just about fighting. We need to change how we think about strength, about belonging.”
“They’ll understand,” I assure her, pulling her close. “You’re living proof that different isn’t weak.”
The Great Hall empties slowly as pack members drift away, leaving us in comfortable silence. Through our bond, I feel Aurora’s contentment mixed with determination. We’ve taken the first step toward real change, but there’s still so much work ahead.
“Ready to face whatever comes next?” I ask softly, brushing a kiss against her forehead.
She turns in my arms, blue and amber eyes meeting mine. “Together? Always.”
The bond pulses between us, strong and true. Looking at her now, I can hardly believe I ever thought rejecting her was the right choice. My father’s voice about strength and weakness seems distant now, replaced by the quiet certainty of knowing I’m exactly where I belong: next to her.
“You’re thinking deep thoughts,” Aurora observes, reaching up to trace the scar on my cheek. “I can feel it through the bond.”
