Chapter 5

Nikolai Kenji Ivanshov

I sat at the head of the long table, my hands flat against the polished wood, while the elders stared at me from their half circle. Dark suits. Hard faces. Years of power carved into every line. Behind me, Ivan, my Beta stood at my right, silent like always. Mikhail, my Delta, at my left, tense and alert.

I should have been paying attention.

But my mind kept wandering somewhere it shouldn't.

Red hair.

It didn't make sense. Humans didn't have red hair. They were all pale. White haired. Fragile. Ordinary. Every single one of them. I would have remembered if I'd ever seen one like her. I was sure of it. But when I closed my eyes, there she was.

The way she looked at me. Not begging. Not submissive.

Hateful. Angry. Broken.

Her hazel eyes burned into my head, sharp and defiant even when she was kneeling in chains on my dungeon floor. There was something familiar about them. Something that bothered me in a way I didn't like.

I hated not knowing why.

"Alpha."

Ivan's voice cut through my train of thoughts, his voice was low but enough for me to hear. He leaned in closer, keeping his voice low. "The elders are waiting."

I blinked and looked back at the room.

Mikhail leaned toward me slightly. "They're asking about Nightclaw."

I nodded once, slow, like I'd been listening the whole time.

"The Nightclaw Pack was attacked three nights ago," I said calmly. "They're closest to the border. The one that separates us from Vampire territory."

One of the elders shifted in his seat, grey eyes narrowing. "Nightclaw has always been weak. Their Alpha can't defend his own borders. Why should we waste warriors on their failures?"

A low murmur rippled through the council.

I felt irritation spike in my chest.

"We're the largest pack in the territories," I said, my voice harder now. "We can spare a few hundred of our own warriors without weakening ourselves."

Another elder scoffed. "And when the vampires come for us next? How would we protect ourselves if we send all our troops?" He asked and I felt irritation in my guts, stupid, all of them were.

I leaned forward, pressing my hands harder against the table, imagining it was their necks. "If Nightclaw falls, the vampires will have a foothold deep inside wolf territory. From there, they'll pressure the other packs. One by one. You think they'll stop once they taste blood?"

Silence.

Some of the elders looked at each other. Others just stared ahead, stubborn.

"They've always wanted more land," I continued. "They've never hidden it. The witches hold the biggest territory. The humans sit in the middle, weak and neutral, they have no allies, no troops and no protection. Nightclaw is a gateway to our lands. If we abandon them, we're inviting invasion."

One elder finally nodded slowly. "And you think this attack was ordered by Vaelor."

I didn't hesitate. "Yes."

The name seemed to darken the room.

"Vaelor Abandonato Duskbane," I said. "Lord of the Western Court. He doesn't act without purpose. And he doesn't strike without planning what comes next."

Mikhail shifted behind me, his voice tight. "We've been seeing more movement near the western border. Scouts are reporting unusual patrol patterns. Vampires don't move like that unless they're preparing something."

Ivan spoke next, calm and measured. "Nightclaw has already lost thirty wolves. Their Alpha requested assistance."

Another elder frowned. "Or maybe this is a trap. Maybe Vaelor wants to draw us out."

I breathed out through my nose, keeping my temper in check. "Vaelor and I have been at war for years. This didn't start with Nightclaw. It didn't even start with me."

My jaw tightened at the memory I wouldn't speak out loud.

Blood on stone floors. Her screams.

The elders went quiet again.

I could feel Ivan's steady presence behind me. Mikhail's tension, coiled and ready.

Finally, the eldest spoke. His voice was rough. "And if we commit to Nightclaw, Alpha Ivanshov, what's your next move?"

My answer came without thought. "We fortify the western border. We reinforce Nightclaw. And we prepare."

"For what?" another elder asked.

I lifted my gaze, meeting each of their eyes.

"There would be a war, Thornmoon must start getting ready."

The silence was heavy.

I leaned back in my chair, my mind drifting again. Back to the girl in the dungeon. To her red hair against stone. To the way she looked at me like she'd rather die than kneel.

I pushed the thought away.

War was coming. And I wouldn't be distracted by a human. No matter how strange she was.

"Send word to Nightclaw. Tell them that Thornmoon pack stands with them, we would send them some supplies and aid."

The elders didn't leave.

I felt it before anyone said anything, the way the air changed. The tension stayed thick in the room. Chairs creaked as they shifted, exchanging looks.

One of them cleared his throat.

I knew who it would be before I even looked.

Elder Hunterwood.

He was always the bold one.

"Alpha," he said carefully, folding his hands over his cane. "There's another matter we need to address."

I kept my expression blank. "Speak."

His eyes flicked to Ivan, then Mikhail, then back to me. The others followed his lead. A silent agreement passing between them.

"We're concerned," Hunterwood said. "You've shown no interest in choosing a she wolf. No interest in a Luna."

"The pack needs stability," another elder added. "Especially now. With war coming."

Hunterwood nodded. "An Alpha without a Luna leaves questions."

I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms. The wood creaked.

"We're worried about succession," Hunterwood said. "You're thirty one. The time to sire an heir is approaching. If the worst happens on the battlefield..."

He let it trail off.

I already knew how it ended.

"And with respect," Hunterwood continued, his voice firmer now, "my daughter has been raised for this role. She's been trained. Educated. Loyal to the pack her entire life. Esme would make a strong Luna."

There it was.

I felt no surprise. Just a dull, familiar annoyance.

Several elders nodded. Others watched me carefully, waiting to see how I'd react. They expected anger. Resistance. Debate.

Instead, I relaxed further into my chair.

"I've already made my decision," I said.

The room went still.

Hunterwood blinked. "You've chosen a Luna?"

"No."

Confusion spread through the council.

I stood.

My boots echoed against stone as I walked toward the tall windows overlooking the pack lands. From here, my territory stretched endlessly. Thornmoon pack was the biggest in the wolves' lands. Dense forests that had farms and hunting stations. Training grounds for our soldiers and scouts. Housing for over five hundred thousand wolves. My responsibility. My burden.

"I've chosen a breeder," I said.

Silence filled the meeting room, hanging tension and shock in the air like heavy clouds.

I heard a sharp inhale. A chair scraping back. Someone muttered.

I turned slowly to face them.

"A breeder?" one elder said, disbelief all over his face. "You mean a human?"

"Yes."

The word sliced through the air like a blade.

Fear flickered through some faces. Others hardened with disapproval.

"A human can't bear a wolf heir," another elder snapped.

"They're weak," someone else said. "Fragile."

I met their eyes one by one, my voice dropping. "She will bear my heir."

No one spoke.

"I don't need a Luna," I continued. "I don't need affection or companionship. I need to continue my lineage. An heir to secure this pack if I fall."

Hunterwood pushed himself up from his seat, anger filled his careful tone but he kept it respectful. He knew what would happen if he spoke me rudely. "This is reckless Alpha Ivanshov. Choosing a breeder over a she wolf is an insult to our customs and traditions."

I stepped closer to the table.

"My customs and traditions," I said quietly, "are survival."

The room fell silent again.

"I won't pretend at love," I went on. "I won't bind myself to someone out of expectation. I won't lie to the pack or myself."

A pause filled the air but I continued.

"The breeder will carry my son," I said. "When that duty is done, she'll leave. That's all."

Some of the elders looked uneasy. Others looked relieved. A few looked furious as they tried to hide their faces.

I turned back toward the window.

"This discussion is over," I said. "I don't want to hear about mates or Lunas again. Focus on the war. Focus on the borders. That's your purpose."

I didn't raise my voice.

I didn't need to.

"You're dismissed."

Chairs scraped back. And one by one, they filed out. Hunterwood lingered for a moment, his gaze sharp and resentful, before finally turning away.

When the doors closed, the room felt bigger.

Quieter.

I stayed by the window, staring out at the land I ruled.

A breeder.

A human.

Red hair flashed in my mind again. The way she glared at me like she'd rather burn than bend. The way her fear didn't erase her defiance.

I clenched my jaw.

This wasn't about her.

This was about duty.

About war.

About legacy.

"Something else is bothering you." Ivan's voice broke the silence.

"Focus on the matter at hand," I said. "That's all that matters."

But even as I walked out of the chamber, I knew that was a lie.

Because somewhere in my castle, a human girl with red hair was taking up space in my thoughts that no one had been allowed to touch in years.

And I didn't know what to do with that.

**

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