Chapter 13

Kael’s POV

The scent of howler’s bane still clings to my coat. Subtle. Bitter. Laced with cowardice.

I should’ve torn the damn festival apart the moment I saw Rowan’s pale face. Should’ve forced every wolf to shift and sniff out the traitor,the one who dared to challenge me.

But panic is weakness, and I can’t afford that. Not now. Not with her safety hanging by a thread.

I walk into the council chamber like a storm. The Elders are already gathered, cloaked in their smug calmness, seated at the crescent table like they own the bones of this pack. Some frown, clearly hungover and irritated I dragged them out of bed so early after the festival.

Elder Thera sits stiffly upright, her eyes flicking briefly to the space beside me,as if expecting Rowan.

Elder Marros leans back, fingers steepled beneath his chin. Ever the patient serpent.

“Alpha,” Thera begins, her voice smooth, rehearsed. “We received word you called for an emergency—”

“Someone tried to poison Rowan,” I cut in, voice cold as iron.

That gets their attention.

Thera blinks. Marros’ fingers still. Silence crashes down like a wave.

Elder Garren shifts uncomfortably. “She survived?”

“Yes,” I grind out. “Her wolf stopped her from taking more.”

Marros raises a brow. “And the child?”

I don’t answer. The snarl rising in my chest speaks for me.

“You’re all far too calm for a council hearing about attempted murder,” I growl, stepping forward. “One meant to kill my child. My heir. In my territory.”

Thera clasps her hands. “We are not calm, Alpha. We are prepared.”

Prepared?

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It means, Alpha,” Marros drawls slowly, “that the moment you allegedly planted a child in a woman outside your wives… conflict was inevitable.”

I stiffen. “It wasn’t my intention. I only prevented the ritual because I assumed myself sterile.”

The prevention ritual,a spell cast by witches to ensure pleasure slaves never carry their master’s children. It wouldn’t do for the Alpha to have bastards running around.

“Yet it happened,” Thera interrupts coolly. “And now she carries your child. The pack sees. The rival packs see. And your women,” her eyes glint, “they see.”

Marros sighs, as if this is all dreadfully obvious. “Wolves are territorial. Women even more so. Especially those with traditional claims to you.”

“They wouldn’t dare,” I say through clenched teeth.

Vivienne is cruel, calculating. But she wouldn’t risk my wrath.

“But they would,” Marros counters. “You have no children with either of your Lunas. And now a nameless girl with no house, no history, carries your blood.”

He shrugs. “Someone was bound to act.”

I step forward so fast the table creaks. “This wasn’t jealousy. This was treason.”

Thera doesn’t flinch. “Treason is only what you call it when the outcome fails.”

The implication behind her words makes my jaw tighten.

“I want names,” I say, voice low and dangerous. “I want rumors. Whispers. Tracks. I want to know who dared to touch her.”

Marros waves a lazy hand. “We’ll investigate, of course. But the threats will only grow, Alpha. Especially since no one truly knows what that girl carries.”

“You want me to invite the witch to examine her?” I snap. “That’s dangerous.”

“We want the pack to feel secure,” Thera says sharply. “We want order.”

“She’s not part of that order,” Marros adds. “Not yet. But confirmation from the witch,proof that she doesn’t carry a curse,would make the people more comfortable.”

I don’t let my reaction show, but inside, I feel it: a flicker of vulnerability I hate. The people must feel safe.

This is what they want,to corner me. To push me into the very trap I’ve spent weeks avoiding.

When I learned the procedure the witch would use might harm the mother and child, I overruled it immediately.

I take a breath.

They think this is about politics. Power. Pack tradition.

But they don’t understand what I felt when I saw her clutching her belly. When the doctor said “child” and something in me unraveled.

They think they can use this to force my hand. But they’ve forgotten something vital.

I am still their Alpha.

And I do not answer to fear, or politics, or greedy old wolves with fading power.

“Find me the traitor,” I say one last time, turning toward the door. “Or I’ll find them myself.”

Now, it’s time I have a talk with my Lunas.

____________________________________________

Kael’s POV

The walls of my house are too quiet when I return. No laughter. No footsteps. Just tension,thick, hanging like storm clouds waiting to break.

The servants make theirselves scarce, word has spread that the alpha is in a bad mood.

Chelsea and Vivienne wait in the sunroom, as instructed. Chelsea rises when she sees me, her soft brown eyes wide with concern. Vivienne doesn’t bother to stand. She sips her tea like she’s lounging at a ball, not sitting in the shadow of an attempted murder.

“Kael,” Chelsea says gently, already reaching for me. “We heard—”

“I know,” I cut her off, but my tone isn’t sharp with her. Not like it might’ve been with anyone else. Chelsea doesn’t pretend to be more than she is. She doesn’t play games. That alone makes her a rarity in this house.

Vivienne sets down her cup with an audible clink. “You called us like criminals. Is that what we are now, Kael?”

I ignore her and look between them.

“One of you tell me why someone tried to kill Rowan last night.”

Chelsea pales, her lips parting in a soft gasp,i know Rowan is her friend, its why the elders wanted to use her to find out the truth. “What?”

Vivienne raises a brow, unbothered. “She’s alive, I presume?”

I cross the room slowly, deliberately, folding my arms. “ A drink laced with howler’s bane. Strong enough to kill a pup.”

“She’s carrying your child,” Chelsea whispers, visibly shaken. “And someone—someone actually—”

“I didn’t do it,” Vivienne says flatly. “Let’s not drag this out like one of your council games, Kael.”

I meet her gaze. Cold. Calculating. Unmoved. It’s the same expression she wore on our wedding day.

“No,” I say, voice like steel. “You didn’t.”

Her eyes flash, surprised,but I press on. “You’re too smart. Too proud. If you wanted her dead, it would’ve been cleaner. Less traceable. You wouldn’t have left your fingerprints.”

A smirk curls at the corner of her lips. “Flattering.”

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

Vivienne shrugs, unfazed. “Then why are we here?”

“Because you still benefit from the absence of what she carries. Both of you do.”

Chelsea flinches at that, guilt splashing across her face. But I know Chelsea. Sweet, soft-spoken Chelsea who speaks to the kitchen staff by name and reads to orphans at the temple. She couldn’t stomach hurting a rabbit, let alone poisoning a girl already teetering on the edge.

“Kael, I would never—” she starts.

“I know,” I cut her off gently. “That’s not why you’re here.”

I shift my gaze back to Vivienne.

“But someone in this household, someone with access, with motive, with ambition—they made their move.”

Vivienne holds my stare, defiant.

“You think it was one of the betas wives? Our friends?” she asks. “You think I sicced them on your little pet?”

I don’t rise to the bait. “If they did, they won’t survive the week.”

“I didn’t ask for a childless union,” she snaps. “You gave me one. And now you parade a pregnant peasant in front of the pack,what did you expect, Kael? Applause?”

“I expected decency,” I growl. “Or at least silence.”

Vivienne’s mouth twists. “I’m not the one dragging your name through the mud.”

“No,” I say, stepping closer, voice low. “You’re the one who’s had everything,title, power, wealth,and still behaves like the pack owes you more.”

Silence stretches between us like a drawn blade.

Then I turn to Chelsea. “Keep your guard close. Trust no one. If anyone speaks of Rowan in a way that raises your suspicion, come to me. Directly.”

Chelsea nods quickly, still visibly shaken.

“And Vivienne,” I add without looking at her, “remind your ladies what happens to traitors in this house. I won’t show mercy.”

She doesn’t respond. Just lifts her cup again, as if we hadn’t just danced on the edge of war.

As I leave, the scent of her tea,rose hips and bloodroot,lingers in the air. Fitting, really. Beautiful. Bitter. Poisonous in the wrong dose.