Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Kale

By the time I reached my office, the rain had worsened.

Water struck the tall windows in steady waves while distant thunder rolled somewhere beyond the mountains surrounding Ashfang. The estate halls had grown quieter now, most servants retreating deeper into the lower levels while warriors rotated shifts along the outer walls before nightfall.

Winter always made the pack restless.

And restless wolves caused problems.

Cassian dropped a stack of reports onto my desk before taking the chair across from me without invitation.

“The southern hunting parties have sent over a thousand reports,” he said.

I barely looked up from the parchment already in my hands. “About what this time?”

“Food distribution.”

A tired exhale left me.

“The eastern families think the hunters are keeping larger shares for themselves.” Cassian leaned back in his chair lazily. “The hunters think the eastern families complain too much.”

“The eastern families do complain too much.”

“Yes, but unfortunately that doesn’t stop them from becoming politically irritating.”

I signed the bottom of one report before tossing it aside.

Ashfang had survived generations because strength ruled here above everything else. Strength in battle. Strength in leadership. Strength in bloodlines.

But strength alone didn’t stop wolves from becoming greedy.

“The council will want a decision tonight,” Cassian continued.

“They always do.”

“That’s because you’re Alpha.”

I gave him a flat look.

He grinned.

Outside, another crack of thunder shook faintly through the mountains.

The scent from earlier still lingered somewhere in the back of my mind.

Wildflowers. It was faint. Elusive.

Annoying.

I shoved the thought away and reached for another report.

“What about the northern settlements?” I asked.

“Stable for now.” Cassian stretched slightly in his chair. “Though if snowfall comes early again, the mountain routes will close before the traders finish crossing.”

My jaw tightened slightly.

That would cause shortages before deep winter even arrived.

“We’ll reduce exports until the passes reopen.”

Cassian nodded once. “That’ll upset the merchants.”

“Good.”

A quiet laugh escaped him.

For a while, only the sound of rain and turning parchment filled the office.

Then Cassian stood.

“The council meeting starts within the hour,” he said. “I should go make sure none of the elders kill each other before then.”

“A shame.”

“I knew you cared.”

I ignored him completely.

Cassian paused near the office doors before glancing back toward me. “You’ve been distracted today.”

I didn’t answer.

His gaze narrowed slightly, like he wanted to push further.

Then, wisely, he let it go.

The door shut behind him with a soft click.

Silence settled over the office once more.

I leaned back slightly in my chair, eyes drifting toward the rain-streaked windows overlooking the village below. Lanterns had begun flickering across Ashfang as evening slowly approached, warm lights glowing against the darkening storm outside.

Everything looked calm from here.

It never truly was.

A knock sounded against the office door.

“You’re becoming predictable,” I muttered.

Marla entered carrying a tray before I could tell her not to.

“You skipped breakfast,” she said immediately. “You were about to skip dinner too.”

“I was working.”

“The late Alpha died before his time because he was always behind that damn desk.”

No, he died because he was power hungry and a foul leader. I was nothing like him. Maybe that’s why he made it his life’s mission to teach me the “right” ways of life.

She crossed the office and placed the tray onto my desk despite my clear lack of interest. The scent of roasted meat and fresh bread filled the room almost immediately.

I reached for another parchment instead.

Marla clicked her tongue sharply.

“You haven’t listened to a word I’ve said since you were twelve.”

“I listened once.”

“And look how disappointing you still turned out to be.”

A quiet snort almost escaped me.

Marla moved toward the hearth, adjusting one of the burning logs carefully before speaking again.

“The hybrid girl settled in well enough.”

My hand paused briefly against the parchment.

Not enough for most wolves to notice.

Enough for Marla to.

“She works quietly,” Marla continued. “The others expected complaints.”

Most hybrids didn’t last long inside Ashfang.

Too much cruelty.

Too much isolation.

Weak wolves were easy targets here.

“That collector has half the lower district terrified of him,” Marla added, disgust threading through her voice now. “I should’ve reported him years ago.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

Her expression darkened slightly in the firelight.

“Because the council protects wolves with money.”

There it was.

The real problem.

Corruption spread quietly through packs when no one bothered cutting it out at the root.

And too many elders inside Ashfang had grown comfortable pretending not to notice.

Silence settled briefly between us.

Then Marla sighed softly. “Eat before the meeting.”

Without another word, she left the office.

My gaze lingered briefly on the closed door afterward.

Then I finally reached for the food.

**************

The council chamber smelled of burning wood, damp stone, melted candle wax, and parchment. Smoke curled lazily from the massive hearth carved into the far wall, clinging heavily to the air beneath the dim lanternlight overhead.

A long stone table stretched across the center of the room while council members filled the seats along both sides. Some looked irritated at being summoned during the storm. Others looked cautious.

The moment I entered, conversation died instantly.

They all stood, bowing their heads in greeting, “We pay our respects, Alpha.” They all chorused.

Every wolf in the room straightened.

It wasn’t loyalty, no.

It was awareness. The kind wolves carried when something stronger than them stepped into the room.

They might not respect me, but they feared me and I preferred to keep it that way.

Cassian stood near the far end of the chamber flipping lazily through reports while several elders argued quietly amongst themselves.

The oldest among them, Elder Varik, watched me carefully as I took my seat at the head of the table.

Varik had never openly challenged my rule.

But he’d spent years circling it carefully enough for everyone to notice.

“The mountain routes may close within weeks,” one council member began immediately after we settled down. “If exports stop now, we lose trade alliances before winter.”

“And if we continue exporting,” another snapped, “our own supplies won’t last until thaw season.”

Voices rose quickly after that.

I remained silent while they argued.

Some council members avoided looking directly at me.

Others watched carefully, waiting for reaction.

Varik folded his hands calmly atop the table. “Ashfang survived long before outside trade became necessary.”

Cassian’s expression flattened slightly at that.

“We survived because wolves adapted,” another elder argued. “Not because they clung to old traditions.”

Varik’s gaze shifted slowly toward me.

“There are many who believe Ashfang has changed too quickly under younger leadership.”

Silence settled heavily across the chamber.

Several council members looked down instantly.

Cowards.

Cassian went completely still near the wall.

I leaned back slightly in my chair, meeting Varik’s stare without speaking.

The tension inside the chamber thickened almost instantly.

Because that was the thing about power.

The wolves who resented me most still feared me enough to choose their words carefully.

Varik held my gaze for several long seconds before finally speaking again.

“And then there is the matter of succession.”

A few council members shifted uncomfortably in their seats.

Varik continued calmly, “Ashfang has no Luna. No future heir. The longer the bond remains unfinished, the more unstable the pack appears to outsiders.”

“The bond isn’t a political arrangement,” Cassian said flatly from across the room.

“No,” Varik replied smoothly. “But leadership is.”

My jaw tightened slightly.

The elders had been growing bolder lately.

Not enough to challenge me directly.

Just enough to test where the line stood.

“The exports stop after this week,” I said calmly.

No one argued.

“The mountain routes close at first heavy snowfall. Until winter passes, Ashfang’s resources stay within pack territory.”

A few unhappy expressions appeared around the table.

None spoke.

“Double inventory counts before week’s end,” I continued. “And if I discover anyone hoarding supplies during winter…”

I let the sentence hang unfinished.

No one needed clarification.

The meeting ended shortly after.

One by one, the council members filtered from the chamber beneath quiet murmurs and lowered eyes while thunder rattled faintly outside the estate walls.

By the time I stepped back into the corridors, night had fully settled over Ashfang.

Most of the estate had gone quiet.

Only a few lanterns still burned along the western halls.

My boots echoed softly against the stone floors as I walked.

Then…

The scent hit me again.

Wildflowers.

Faint enough that I almost missed them entirely beneath the scent of damp fabric and old wool.

Soft.

Subtle.

Like something delicate struggling to survive beneath a hard winter.

My wolf surged instantly.

Mine.

I stopped.

Several feet ahead, someone knelt beside the corridor floor holding a bucket of water and cloth.

The maid from earlier.

Dark curls had escaped from her messy bun now, falling loosely around her face while she scrubbed quietly at the stone tiles beneath the lanternlight.

She looked up suddenly at the sound of my footsteps.

Golden amber eyes met mine.

Everything inside me went completely still.