Chapter Four: Ghosts in the Garden

Julian

Traditionally, a retired Alpha automatically became a member of the Elder Council. I truly didn’t have the energy to be a contributing member, but the old, familiar pull of duty had me dragging my aching body to the conference room whenever Kaelen demanded a meeting.

It wasn’t as if he wanted counsel; he was too full of his own ideas to listen to the wisdom of “old people.” No, he simply wanted an audience whenever he made another sweeping change.

I dropped into a leather chair—not at the head of the table, but along the side. The leather groaned beneath me. I resisted the urge to fold my arms and lay my head down. I was nothing more than a bag of bones now, more ghost than man. I hardly had the energy to get out of bed, let alone sit through another of Kaelen’s self-congratulatory monologues.

The other members wore expressions of mixed exasperation and concern, shifting uneasily as Kaelen entered. For reasons known only to him, he had taken to wearing army fatigues every day. The boy had never served in the military, but apparently, he aspired to turn my pack an army.

Not my pack, I corrected myself as soon as the thought formed. His pack.

He sauntered to the head of the table but did not sit. He stood, palms flat against the polished wood, staring at each of us as if it were some kind of dominance challenge. I had no qualms about looking away; I was too tired for another Alpha pissing contest. When he was satisfied that he had “conquered” the room, he finally sat.

“I have an announcement,” he said importantly.

Of course he does.

“As you should already know, our growth as a pack has been stagnant for fifty years. We haven’t acquired new land, and our population hasn’t increased. In fact, our census last year saw us down by fourteen, mostly due to our females finding mates outside the pack.” He sent a particularly intense glare in my direction, as though it were my fault those women had left for their fated mates.

The fact that we had been peaceful and stable for decades was not a failure in my eyes. To me, it had been an accomplishment. I looked away from him, my gaze falling to the gardens visible through the window. The roses were in bloom—velvety, crimson, and heavy with dew. They had always been Annie’s favorite. In my mind, I could see her there now: pruning shears in hand, humming softly as she cut stems for the vases around the house. The image was so vivid that my chest ached. I could almost smell her perfume mingled with the roses.

For a moment, I was tempted to leave the table and go to her.

Cruelly, Kaelen’s voice dragged me back to the present. “Well, ladies and gentlemen, I have just signed an agreement that will increase our pack lands by forty-seven percent and more than double our population. And all without any bloodshed!”

The council members looked at one another in confusion. I felt my brows knit together. “What agreement?”

“An alliance with Alpha Enoch.” Kaelen’s chest puffed out.

“What kind of alliance?” I asked, suspicion stirring in my gut. Enoch Forge and I had always been on good terms, but he was a man rooted deeply in the old ways.

“A mating alliance,” Kaelen announced proudly. “I will take Enoch’s eldest daughter as my mate, and in return, he will cede the Silvercrest pack to me when he retires. I don’t know the exact date, but I suspect it will be sooner rather than later.”

I forced my tired body to sit up straighter. “But she’s not your fated mate?”

Kaelen looked at me with exaggerated patience. “That’s the point, Father.” The word dripped with sarcasm. “She hasn’t found a mate; that’s why her father is arranging this. Apparently, they won’t allow a female to lead, so this is his solution.”

“But what about you, Kaelen? You’re still young. You could still find your fated mate!” The very idea pained me. Nothing good came from arranged pairings. Annie’s first mating—with Kaelen’s biological father—had been proof enough. Even if the wolf accepted the bond, it was never the same. I looked around at the council, hoping for backup. Some nodded in quiet agreement, while others remained silent, unwilling to challenge the new Alpha.

“I don’t need a love match,” he sneered, steepling his hands. “In my opinion, having a fated mate makes you weak and vulnerable.”

“You’re wrong,” I said through gritted teeth. “A fated mate makes you the best version of yourself.”

“Right. Until she dies.”

His words hit like a physical blow. I had no rebuttal. Annie’s death had left me hollow, barely able to function. He was right about that—but I wouldn’t have traded those years for anything. The love I had shared with her had been worth every ounce of the pain that followed.

I felt a wave of pity for the woman being bartered away in this deal. If I had a daughter, I would never allow her to mate with a man like Kaelen, not even to save a pack. I felt a flicker of disappointment in Enoch, too. I had counted him as a friend once. I knew he clung to tradition, but I hadn’t believed he’d sacrifice his daughter’s future for political advantage.

I sighed, letting the breath rattle out of me. This was no longer my fight. My days of leadership—and of change—were behind me. I was merely a ghost haunting the edges of a pack that no longer needed me.

My gaze drifted back to the garden, searching for Annie’s shadow among the rosebushes, but she was gone. The sunlight outside was blindingly bright, too harsh for memories.

“Let me make one thing perfectly clear,” Kaelen continued, his voice slicing through my thoughts. I realized I’d missed several of his details. “The girl will be a Luna in name and title only. She will have no real power over this pack. Keep that in mind when she arrives.”

I suppressed a groan. A Luna in name only. That was a pack out of balance. “When does she arrive?”

“Wednesday,” he said curtly, irritation flickering in his tone.

“Right. Wednesday.” I cleared my throat and pushed myself to my feet, swaying as I found my balance. “If you’ll excuse me, Alpha. Elders.”

I limped out of the room. I couldn’t bear to hear more of his schemes, nor could I dwell on the fate of the poor woman from Silvercrest.

The hallway stretched before me like a tunnel. Every step echoed against the wooden floors, the sound hollow and lonely. I paused by a window halfway down the corridor and stared out at the forest. The trees seemed to whisper in the wind, a low, mournful sound that stirred something ancient inside me. I longed to shift, to feel the earth under my paws again—but my body was too frail. Even my wolf had gone quiet these days, buried beneath exhaustion and grief.

Instead, I climbed the stairs, every joint protesting, until I reached the Alpha suite.

Annie had made this room warm once—soft rugs, sunlight, and her laughter in the air. But after she died, I’d torn down her paintings and broken the frames in a fit of rage. Now the walls were scarred and bare, the furniture cracked, the air stale. I didn’t let anyone in to clean; dust clung thick to the lampshades. The blackout curtains kept the room steeped in twilight.

For months, I had refused to change the sheets, clinging to her scent. When it finally faded, I replaced them with plain black bedding—no scent, no color, no memory.

I let my body collapse onto the mattress and turned to face the photo of Annie on the bedside table. She was laughing, wind in her golden hair, sunlight on her skin. I traced her cheek through the glass. Her smile mocked me gently from within the frame.

“Why did you leave me?” I whispered, just as I had a thousand times before.

Only the ticking of the old clock answered me.

And the garden below, blooming in silence.