VII - The truce

The air in the luxury SUV was thick with a silence that hummed with unspoken words. Jonathan stared out at the passing landscape, the familiar fields blurring into an indistinct green. Beside him, Alpha King Maguire sat.

"Ready for anything, Jon?" Maguire's voice was a low rumble, cutting through the quiet.

Jonathan shifted, turning to face his father. "Always, Father. Though I admit, 'anything' feels particularly broad today." He knew what his father meant. These truces were always a delicate dance, a performance of peace over simmering resentment.

Maguire grunted, a sound that could mean approval or exasperation. "Good. Because today, 'anything' might just be the understatement of the year. Darius is an old wolf, shrewd and unpredictable."

The sun beat down relentlessly as the two imposing SUVs finally came to a halt, spaced respectfully on either side of the parched field. Jonathan watched as the figures emerged from the opposing vehicle – Alpha Darius and his daughter, Asante. With other members of the pack executives. He felt a familiar prickle of anticipation, a strange mix of dread and something else, something akin to a challenge.

His father’s voice, a low command, brought him back to the present. "Remember what we discussed, Jon. Maintain decorum. We are here for peace, regardless of the past."

"Understood, Father." Jonathan forced a neutral expression onto his face. Peace. Right.

As they approached the solitary shade tent, the dust swirling around their feet, the two Alpha Kings met in the middle.

"Alpha King Maguire," Darius’s voice was deep, a gravelly sound that matched his imposing frame. "It's been too long."

Maguire offered a slight incline of his head. "Rogue King Darius. Indeed it has. Time, it seems, has a way of both separating and reuniting us."

They settled into the chairs under the tent, the silence momentarily stretched between them, thick with the weight of history. Jonathan stood a respectful distance behind his father, his gaze flickering towards Asante. She met his eyes for a brief moment, her expression unreadable, before turning her attention to her father.

"So," Darius began, breaking the quiet. "Let's not dance around it, shall we? This… animosity. It stems from the trade, does it not? Furiosa’s sudden prosperity, just as Hellpaw’s… diminished."

Maguire leaned back, a picture of calm. Alpha Darius, with all due respect, Furiosa's prosperity is as a result of our own ingenuity and hard work. Also, Jonathan, since he's been installed as the Alpha Prince has been wonderful, landing trades and recruiting smart wolves, not just lupine beings, smart wolves. As for your diminished trade, perhaps you should look closer to home for the cause."

Jonathan felt his jaw tighten. Here we go.

Darius’s eyes narrowed. "Some would say it was a direct result of Furiosa’s double-crossing. That your pack exploited our trust, seized our routes, and left us to starve."

Maguire let out a soft sigh, as if weary of an old, tired argument. "And some would be mistaken. I gave no such order, Alpha Darius. I have always sought to protect my pack, not to destroy another's livelihood through underhanded means." He paused, his gaze thoughtful. "Unless… unless there was another force at play. A silent operating pack, perhaps, stirring dissent, benefiting from our conflict."

Jonathan’s internal alarm bells blared. He’s really going with this? He wanted to scoff, to call out the blatant lie. His father, a master of deception, was at his best. Maguire gave the orders, he, Jonathan led the onslaught, in masks and strange jackets.

Darius’s expression shifted, a flicker of something that could have been surprise or consideration. "A silent operating pack? That's… a new theory." He leaned forward. "And if there were such a pack, how would we find them?"

Maguire’s voice was smooth, almost conciliatory. "Perhaps by combining our efforts, Darius. By showing a united front, we might expose those who truly seek to sow discord between us. We can kill each other when this is over, or we may not."

Jonathan felt a wave of nausea. He knew, with an absolute certainty, that his father was orchestrating a grand illusion.

"Combine our efforts…" Darius mused, his gaze drifting to Asante, then to Jonathan. "That sounds… logical. In fact, why simply combine our efforts? Why not join our troops together? Connect our families?"

Jonathan’s breath hitched. He saw his father’s eyes flick to him, a silent question, a challenge. He desperately wished his father would reject the notion, find a reason to decline. But the thought of Elara, waiting at home, a mate chosen for him, sealed his fate. He knew, with a sinking heart, that his father wouldn’t refuse.

Maguire’s expression remained unreadable for a long moment, a carefully constructed mask. "That is… a significant proposal, Alpha Darius."

"Indeed," Darius affirmed. "A lasting peace, secured through blood and bond. Think of the power, Alpha King Maguire. The combined strength of Furiosa and Hellpaw. No 'silent operating pack' would dare to stand against us then."

Maguire turned to look at Jonathan, a ghost of a smile touching his lips. "Perhaps this is a discussion best left to the younger generation to consider." He turned back to Darius. "Shall we leave them to decide? Jon, drive her out. Let the old crooks talk about old things."

Asante, who had been listening intently, immediately stood. Jonathan sighed inwardly. He saw the readiness in her, the quickness of her movements. Old habits, he thought, were hard to break. The thrill of the chase, the game of conquest. But now, with Elara in the picture, it was a different kind of fire that simmered within him, a slow burn instead of a blazing inferno. He felt like he was in a committed relationship with Elara, although, it was complicated still.

He approached Asante, a faint, almost imperceptible tremor in his chest. He held out his hand, Asante took it and they walked some yards away. He wondered what the two members of the pack at both ends would think.

"So," he said, his voice low, "where do you think we should go?"

Asante met his gaze, a hint of challenge in her eyes. "Somewhere serene and secluded," she answered, a subtle curve forming on her lips. "Somewhere we can… decide."