The Storm in Silence

Caleb’s POV

The council chamber smelled faintly of ink and old parchment. The long oak table was crowded with scrolls, maps, and steaming cups of tea. My beta, Rowan, stood at my right, pointing to a parchment that outlined the preparations for Crystal’s convocation ceremony.

“The guest packs are expected to arrive within a week,” Rowan said. “We’ll need extra guards patrolling the borders. I’ve already doubled shifts, but with the winter storms, supplies will be strained.”

One of the elders grunted in agreement. “The convocation must be perfect. Crystal is to be celebrated as Luna. Any sign of weakness will invite whispers.”

Their words prickled beneath my skin. Whispers had already begun. I had felt them in the gazes of other Alphas, in the careful tone of allies who questioned why it had taken me so long to choose a mate.

“Crystal’s convocation will be flawless,” I said flatly, though my jaw tightened as I spoke.

The door creaked open then, interrupting the discussion. Crystal swept inside, silk skirts whispering against the stone floor, her perfume filling the chamber before her words did.

“My love,” she said sweetly, though her eyes flicked dismissively over Rowan and the elders. “I need a moment with you.”

I glanced at the men gathered, then gave a curt nod. “Leave us.”

There were murmurs of protest, but I silenced them with a look. Rowan gave me a questioning glance before obeying. One by one, the elders shuffled out until the heavy door shut behind them.

Crystal’s smile widened once we were alone. She glided to my side, perching on the edge of the table like a queen upon her throne.

“I came because there is something urgent,” she said, her tone soft, though her eyes gleamed like glass.

I leaned back in my chair, arms crossed. “What is it?”

She tilted her head, feigning innocence. “It’s Elsa.”

At the mention of her name, a muscle ticked in my jaw. I had not seen Elsa in days not since the incident in the courtyard where she’d been forced to kneel before the pack. The memory lingered like smoke, bitter and sharp.

“What about her?” I asked.

“She’s been… restless,” Crystal said delicately. “Trying to cause trouble. Testing the patience of the servants, provoking the guards. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she’s deliberately trying to undermine me.”

I frowned. “Undermine you?”

Crystal leaned closer, lowering her voice. “She glares, she mutters. She refuses to accept her place. I fear she’s trying to make me look weak before the pack.”

Her words dripped like poison, carefully crafted.

“Elsa?” I asked slowly. “She’s barely strong enough to stand most days.”

Crystal’s lips thinned, though she recovered quickly. “That’s the trick, isn’t it? To appear weak, to win pity. She plays the victim so others will whisper that I am cruel.”

Her hand brushed mine, soft, persuasive. “You can’t let her poison your pack’s loyalty. She must be dealt with before the convocation.”

The firelight flickered across her face, casting shadows that made her beauty seem both fragile and dangerous.

Inside, my thoughts twisted. I remembered Elsa kneeling, the dirt staining her dress, her head unbowed despite the jeers. She hadn’t looked weak. She hadn’t looked like a schemer. She had looked… unbroken.

And that unsettled me more than I wanted to admit.

“She has done nothing but obey,” I said carefully.

Crystal’s eyes narrowed. “Obey? She stares at me with hatred. She disrespects me with her silence. Do you know how it feels to have a servant refuse to acknowledge your authority?”

Her voice rose, sharp as a whip. “If she is not removed, she will shame you at the convocation. People will wonder why she still lingers, why the Alpha cannot control his own rejected mate.”

Silence stretched between us. My wolf stirred uneasily, growling low in the back of my mind.

“She isn’t a threat,” I muttered, though my voice lacked conviction.

Crystal seized on it instantly. “Then let me prove it. Let me set a small test for her. If she passes, perhaps she stays. If she fails” Her smile returned, sharp as a blade. “Then you will see she doesn’t belong here.”

I studied her, searching for truth beneath her polished lies. I found none. Crystal had always been skilled at this twisting words until they seemed like reason, coating cruelty with sugar.

“You want her gone,” I said flatly.

Crystal’s lashes fluttered. “I want what’s best for you. For this pack. For us.”

But I knew better. She wanted Elsa broken, erased, so no trace of my past mistake could haunt her throne.

My hands clenched into fists on the table. “Do not kill her.”

Crystal blinked, feigning shock. “Kill her? Caleb, how could you think such a thing? I only want her gone. Banished, perhaps. Out of sight, out of mind.”

I held her gaze, my gut twisting. I didn’t believe her.

The door creaked open again, and Rowan stepped back inside, bowing stiffly. “Alpha, the elders await your decision on the convocation security.”

Crystal slid gracefully from the table, smoothing her skirts. “We’ll continue this later.” She brushed her lips against my cheek, lingering just long enough to stake her claim before sweeping out of the chamber.

Rowan studied me once she was gone. His eyes were sharp, too sharp. “What does she want this time?”

I hesitated, then muttered, “She thinks Elsa is trying to cause trouble.”

Rowan’s brow furrowed. “Elsa? Trouble?” He shook his head. “The girl barely has the strength to lift a bucket, Caleb. If anything, she’s trouble for herself.”

My lips pressed into a thin line. I wanted to agree, yet Crystal’s words lingered, poisoning the edges of my thoughts.

As the meeting resumed, my mind wasn’t on border patrols or guest lists. It was on Elsa on the fire in her eyes as she endured humiliation, on the silence she wielded like a weapon, on the strange, stubborn resilience I had never noticed when she was mine.

Crystal wanted me to see weakness. But all I could see was a quiet strength I didn’t understand.

And that, perhaps, was more dangerous than any open defiance.

That night, as I stood on the balcony overlooking the training grounds, I caught sight of her below. Elsa, carrying buckets too heavy for her frame, staggering under the weight, yet refusing to fall.

My wolf shifted uneasily.

“She’ll break,” I muttered to myself.

But even as I said it, I wasn’t sure who I was trying to convince myself, or the storm brewing in her silence.