The chamber was still empty when Nicole returned to it. The torches had been trimmed and relit, their smoke curling toward the vaulted ceiling. It smelled of iron and old stone, like a tomb that refused to close. She didn’t know why she had come back here after Silas had walked out. Perhaps because this room, with all its weight and its echoes, reminded her of what she was tethered to. The power, consequence and legacy. Not him, not love. The scrape of the door startled her. She braced herself for Silas’s storm—his voice, his anger, his shadow darkening the room again but it wasn’t him.Brian stepped inside.He looked worse than she remembered him after the battle. He looked gaunt from blood loss, pale from wounds that had half-healed and half-festered. His movements were careful, each step an argument with his body, but his eyes… his eyes still held that glint of stormfire that had once drawn her like lightning.“Nicole,” he said. Just her name. It fell heavy in the space between the
The chamber was quiet. Too quiet. Nicole sat at the long stone table where council decrees had been carved into memory, her hands spread flat against the cool surface as though anchoring herself to it. The torches burned low, throwing unsteady shadows that made the carved walls ripple like water. Elara slipped inside, closing the heavy door behind her. She didn’t speak at once. The hush pressed on her lungs, and she could see that Nicole wore the silence like armor. Any careless word could be a blade in the wrong hands. “Elara,” Nicole said finally, her voice low, carrying that sharpened edge of someone who had given too many orders and heard too little truth. “You look like you’ve run through fire.” “I might as well have.” Elara’s throat tightened. “The courtyard, it’s not just unrest anymore. It’s war in miniature. Wolves tearing at each other while others watch. Waiting.” Nicole’s eyes flickered, but her expression held. No start, no break, only that steady stillness she had traine
The chamber doors shut behind the last elder with a final, echoing thud. Outside, the sound carried like a stone dropped into water. Wolves lifted their heads. Conversations stilled. The murmurs that had been simmering in the courtyard since dawn surged, filling the air with sharp, cutting currents. They had been waiting and watching. The whole pack knew what had been brewing inside those walls, and wolves did not wait patiently when their future was at stake.“She won’t choose,” one muttered near the stair, his voice low but sharp enough to cut the air. “That’s what they’re saying. She refused to bind herself. She thinks the Fury alone can carry her.”“You’d rather she chained herself to Silas?” another spat back. “The man bleeds suspicion. If he had his way, we’d all be bowing to his council instead of her.”“And Brian?” a third chimed in, younger, his voice eager. “He lives still. The Fury broke him, aye, but his blood hasn’t vanished. His line still runs strong. Bind them, and the
The silence between them lingered after Silas’s words, a silence so dense it seemed to reshape the walls of the chamber. Nicole’s chest rose and fell, her pulse hammering against the skin Silas’s hand had just held. She wanted to reach for him, to tether him before he unraveled further, but no Alpha, no leader could allow themselves to falter in that way with so many watching. Even if, for a heartbeat, she wished she could. Silas’s eyes searched hers, waiting for an answer that didn’t come. Then, with the jagged breath of a man turning away from a battlefield not yet lost, he stepped back. His shadow peeled off hers, retreating to the door. He didn’t slam it. Didn’t even growl. The quiet way he left hurt more than if he had. Nicole stood alone for a moment longer, the echo of his absence thrumming through her veins. Then the chamber doors creaked, and the council slipped back inside like wolves scenting blood..No one asked what had passed between them. They didn’t need to. The tension
Silas had never known silence to feel like a wound. It stretched now, jagged and raw, between him and the wolves he had once commanded without question. They looked to her now, Nicole. Every gaze that might have once landed on him slid past as though he were a shadow burned away by the fire she carried.nHe had stood beside her when Calen fell. He had felt the power in her voice, the sharp edge of her presence, and the pack had felt it, too. It should have filled him with pride. With relief. He had fought for this, bled for it, torn enemies apart to see her on that throne and yet——and yet, a hollow gnawed at him because as the wolves bent, as the whispers turned into grudging silence, he knew it was not his hand that bound them. It was hers. He walked the edges of the courtyard long after the others had dispersed, his boots grinding into blood-stained earth. His thoughts circled like caged wolves. Nicole was inside, the council gathered around her. He should have been there, her secon
The dawn after Nicole’s oath was a strange one. The courtyard still bore the scars of the night before, blood crusted in the grooves of the stones, claw marks gouged into the old walls, the faint smell of smoke clinging where torches had burned too hot, too long. Yet the pack gathered again, pulled by the weight of command they could not resist. Wolves filled the council square in tight knots, some whispering, some glaring, many still trembling with the force of divided loyalties. Nicole stood at the head of the dais, the seat of the Alpha throne still empty behind her. She had not taken it yet, not until every question of loyalty was answered. To claim it while traitors still lingered among her people would be weakness, and weakness was something she could not afford. At her right, Silas stood like a shadow, silent and brooding. At her left, Elara kept her gaze fixed on the crowd, sharp and watchful. The elder councilmen were already restless. One cleared his throat loudly. “Alpha,”