Chapter 9

Zane’s POV

It’s late morning when we pull up at the Silverwood pack. The air’s thick with tension, and the first thing I notice is how quiet it is. Too quiet for a pack, really.

Luna Comfort’s smile is polite but strained. "Alpha Gregory is out with the scouts, checking on something at the eastern border," she says. "He wants to make sure we’re secure. He’s...hands-on like that."

She leads us upstairs to our rooms. Her heels click sharply on the marble floor, echoing through the vast entryway.

‘Wow. This place is something else,’ Vivian’s voice buzzes in my head.

‘Understatement,’ Tyler shoots back, his tone dry.

I glance around, noticing the sleek, cold beauty of the packhouse. The grand staircase spirals upwards, flanked by gleaming golden rails, the kind you see in old castles, not wolf packs. And the crystal chandeliers overhead? Over-the-top, like they were stolen from a ballroom.

‘How much do you think this place costs?’ I send the thought to the others. ‘How many homes could we build with all that money if they toned down the luxury?’

‘Don’t even think about it,’ Tyler replies with a chuckle. ‘The Silverwood pack isn’t about homes; it’s about power. You know that.’

He’s right. Only mated couples get actual homes here. The warriors get small houses, while the rest share rooms in community buildings. People over twelve live in cramped spaces—something that doesn’t sit right with me. In the Stonebrook pack, sure, we have shared buildings, but they’re designed for teens and elders, not entire families packed like sardines.

Still, I say nothing. It’s not my place to judge how another pack runs things.

I glance at Vivian, who looks uncomfortable. I get it. She’s used to our pack’s tight-knit community where we all matter, no matter our rank. This place? It’s a whole different world.

‘You okay?’ Tyler asks, rubbing her shoulder, his voice quiet.

Vivian smiles faintly, but her eyes tell a different story. "Just tired," she says, brushing it off. "The trip's catching up with me."

Luna Comfort smiles at us, though there's a flicker of something in her gaze. "Please, rest up. Lunch is in an hour. You’ll feel better after."

"Will Lydia join us?" Vivian asks, before she steps into her room.

"Yes, she’ll be here soon," Luna Comfort responds, casting a quick glance at Zane. "She’s...getting ready."

"Getting ready for what?" Tyler mutters under his breath, but I catch the humor in his tone.

Luna Comfort’s smile freezes, but she says nothing. The tension is thick, but it’s not the time to stir things up.

I retreat to my room, locking the door behind me. The moment the latch clicks, I feel the weight of the Silverwood pack press down on me. I’ve met dozens of women in packs, but this place feels... off.

I’m used to the fleeting encounters—dinners, a few drinks, maybe a night at a hotel. But staying here? It feels like meeting the in-laws. I don’t like it. I didn’t sign up for this.

I try to shake off the unease. Maybe it’s the pack’s atmosphere. It’s militaristic here—too controlled, too rigid. I’ve always believed in treating everyone equally, no matter their rank. But here, the warriors are given far more respect, more space... It doesn't sit right with me. No one’s above anyone else, but here, it feels like some are treated as more valuable than others.

The knock on the door interrupts my thoughts. It's Luna Comfort again. "Lunch will be served shortly. We’ll be waiting downstairs."

I nod, feeling the anxiety bubbling inside. As I leave my room, I can't help but notice the same warriors from earlier, standing stiffly by the entrance. It’s like we’re walking through a military compound, not a home.

Lunch doesn’t help. The lavish dining room’s rich with opulence, but the faces around the table? Too guarded. Too...strained. Luna Comfort plays hostess, while Lydia holds back, saying just enough to seem polite. Wendy, on the other hand, can’t stop looking at me.

Her eyes are practically glued to me, the blush in her cheeks impossible to ignore. I can feel the heat of her gaze, but I’m not interested. Not now.

After lunch, Luna Comfort suggests Lydia show me the garden. “The hydrangeas are in bloom. Perfect time to chat.”

I nod, though the last thing I want is to wander around their fancy garden. "Lead the way," I say.

Lydia hesitates for a second before nodding. "Let’s talk."

We step outside, and the tension between us is palpable. I can feel the weight of her words, even before she speaks. "I’d prefer to talk in private," she says, looking around nervously.

I pause, my gaze flicking over her. "My room?" I suggest, smirking when she nods. "Guess we don’t want anyone overhearing our conversation."