Our journey to the neutral meeting ground takes several hours, moving through territories that border multiple packs. The location—an ancient clearing marked by standing stones—has historically served as meeting ground for pack negotiations and treaties.
As we approach, the scents of other wolves reach us—Moonclaw, Red River, Grayback, and others I don’t recognize, all mingling in the clearing ahead. Ryker’s posture shifts subtly, his entire being radiating the controlled power that makes him such a formidable alpha.
“Stay close to me,” he murmurs, his hand finding mine for a brief, reassuring squeeze. “Watch everything. Trust no one except our own.”
The clearing opens before us, revealing a scene much likemy fragmented vision—wolves from multiple packs arranged in careful formation, tension vibrating in the air despite the ostensible peaceful purpose of our gathering. At the center stands Thaddeus, his white hair gleaming in the midday sun, power rolling off him in waves matching Ryker’s own.
Our arrival causes a ripple through the assembled wolves, conversations faltering as attention shifts to the Shadowmist alpha and his unusual mate. I feel the weight of countless stares—some curious, some hostile, some calculating in ways that make my skin crawl.
“Ryker Ashmere.” Thaddeus’s voice carries across the clearing, powerful despite his advanced age. “You honor us with your presence.”
“Grand Alpha.” Ryker’s acknowledgment is minimal, his tone revealing nothing of his true feelings toward his father.
Thaddeus’s gaze shifts to me, his silver eyes cold with assessment. “And the seer. How... interesting to see you participating in pack politics so soon after your claiming.”
The subtle barb doesn’t escape me—the implication that my presence is somehow inappropriate, that a female so newly claimed should be sheltered rather than involved in diplomatic affairs. Before Ryker can respond, I step forward.
“I go where my Alpha goes,” I reply, my voice steady despite the nervous flutter in my stomach. “As is proper for the Alpha Female of the Shadowmist Pack.”
A murmur runs through the gathered wolves at my boldness. Through our bond, I feel Ryker’s approval. Thaddeus’s expression remains impassive, but something flickers in his eyes—calculation, perhaps, or reassessment.
“Indeed.” He gestures toward a circular arrangement of seats at the clearing’s center. “Shall we begin? There is much to discuss.”
As we move forward, our escort falls into practiced formation around us. I notice Zella positioning herself at myright shoulder, slightly closer than strictly necessary. Her presence is reassuring, despite my unease at our situation.
The summit proceeds with formal declarations from each pack represented—grievances aired, positions stated, alliances affirmed. Throughout it all, I observe Thaddeus closely, searching for hints of his true intentions beneath the diplomatic facade. Through our bond, I sense Ryker doing the same.
When Thaddeus finally addresses the central issue—his accusation that Ryker “stole” a valuable seer from the collective packs—I feel tension spike through our escort. Hands move subtly closer to concealed weapons, bodies shift into more defensible positions.
“The claiming was legitimate under pack law,” Ryker states, his voice carrying just enough edge to remind everyone of his reputation. “My mate ran in the ceremony, she bears my mark willingly, and even now a pup may be growing within her. The matter is settled.”
“Is it?” Thaddeus’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “A seer of such power should belong to all wolf-kind, not sequestered with a single pack—particularly one with such... unconventional views on our traditions.”
“She is not property,” Ryker counters, his control admirable despite the provocation. “She is my mate, my Alpha Female. Her gift is hers to do with as she wishes.”
Thaddeus leans forward, his attention shifting fully to me. “And what do you choose, little seer? Do you truly wish to remain bound to the shadow wolves, cut off from your proper place among civilized packs?”
The direct address catches me by surprise. In traditional pack dynamics, alphas speak to alphas—not to their mates. Ryker tenses beside me, but I place a calming hand on his arm.
“I choose to honor the pack that values me,” I reply, meeting Thaddeus’s gaze directly. “And to be with the alphawho sees me as partner rather than tool.” I lift my chin slightly. “I choose the Shadowmist freely and without reservation.”
Something dangerous flashes in Thaddeus’s eyes. “Bold words from one who spent her life serving the Silvercrest.”
“Servitude and choice are different matters,” I respond. “As you well know.”
Thaddeus’s expression hardens, power crackling around him like static electricity. “Enough pleasantries,” he declares, rising to his full height. “I extended this invitation hoping reason might prevail, but I see the shadow wolf’s influence has already corrupted you beyond salvation.”
Ryker stands as well, his massive frame dwarfing even Thaddeus’s considerable presence. “If you have a proposal, make it. If not, we’re finished here.”
“Oh, I have a proposal.” Thaddeus’s smile turns predatory. “Surrender the seer to a proper cleansing, rescind your claim, and return to your mountains. Do this, and the allied packs will allow the Shadowmist to continue its existence unmolested.”
“And if I refuse?” Ryker’s voice drops to a dangerous rumble.
“Then what follows will be on your head alone.” Thaddeus’s gaze sweeps our small group. “You are outnumbered, outmatched, and surrounded. Even now, forces gather at your borders, waiting for my signal.”
The threat hangs in the air, clear and unambiguous. I feel Ryker’s calculation—not fear, never fear, but he’s struggling to see a way forward that doesn’t end in bloodshed.
“We came here in good faith. You would break truce to own another’s mate?”
