Chapter 6 – The First Strike

The silence of the packhouse was deceptive. Believe me on that.

On the surface, everything looked the same. Guards at their posts with their shoulders squared, servants moving through the halls with their heads down, and the faint, familiar smell of roasted meat drifting from the kitchens.

But beneath the mundane routine, tension coiled like a snake waiting to strike. I could feel it in my bones, a low-frequency pulse of anxiety vibrating through the stone floors.

The pack knew.

Wolves always know when the wind changes, even before the storm hits.

Slowly, I walked down the corridor, my fingers brushing the rough stone walls.

Every step carried the trace of a ghost.

In my last life, this had been the day I lost everything. I remembered running down this same hall, tears blurring my vision, begging the Moon Goddess for a mercy that never came. Now, my eyes were bone-dry and my heart was a cold piece of flint.

This wasn't the day I lost, it was the day I began to take it all back, piece by agonizing piece.

This time it was different. I didn't head for my bedroom to hide. I headed for the heart of the pack: the Council Chamber. I needed to move before Vance could regain his footing. He was currently drowning in a sea of pheromones and misplaced 'mate' instinct, which made him slow. And in the Eclipse Star pack, slow meant dead.

I pushed open the heavy oak doors of the chamber. The room was empty, save for the dust motes dancing in the morning light, but it smelled of old parchment and the earthy scent of the Elders who had sat here for generations.

I walked to the head of the long obsidian table and pulled out the Alpha’s chair. I didn't sit in it, not yet, but I rested my hand on the back of it, feeling the cold vibe of authority.

“Ready the summons,” I told the young Beta standing guard at the door.

He looked at me, startled by the sheer ice in my tone.

“Call the Elders. All of them. Tell them the Luna has called an emergency session regarding a level-one security breach.”

“Luna?” the boy stammered, his eyes darting to the empty hallway behind me. “Should I… should I find the Alpha first?”

“The Alpha is occupied,” I responded, my tone dropping an octave, becoming something dark and dangerous. “Do as you’re told, or go find a shovel and report to the stables for the next month. Am I clear?”

He didn't ask twice. He vanished.

I spent the next hour preparing. I didn't need to make notes, I had the laws of this pack burned into my brain because I was the one who had spent the last three years drafting them while Vance was out playing. I knew every loophole, every clause, and every penalty. I was going to use his own signature against him like a garrote.

Later that evening, the council chamber filled with the low murmurs of old men.

Elders shuffled in, their heavy robes brushing against the floor, their eyes darting between me and the empty chair where Vance should have been. They looked confused, some even offended, but none of them dared to speak over the charged silence I was radiating.

I stood at the head of the table, not waiting for permission or a formal opening.

“We need to discuss protocol,” I began, affecting a steady, casual tone. “The Alpha has brought a stranger into the packhouse. A rogue girl found in a cage. He claims she is his fated mate.”

Gasps rippled through the room.

Elder Kofi, his beard streaked with silver and his eyes sharp as a hawk’s, leaned forward, his hands trembling slightly on the table.

“Is this true? A rogue, brought inside these sacred walls without a clearing? Amani, that is a violation of the Treaty of the Creek.”

“It’s true,” I agreed flatly. “And it was done against every law we’ve written to keep this pack from being slaughtered in its sleep. Against the very rules that keep us alive while the southern border is currently a bloodbath.”

Suddenly, the door slammed open, the wood groaning against the stone.

None other than Vance stormed in, his aura flaring like a wildfire. He looked disheveled, his hair a mess, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar but his fury was enough to fill the chamber. Thank the Goddess Zebub was not with him but I could smell her on him. That cloying, fake sweetness was like a rot. And the Elders must have noticed this as well.

“You dare call a council without me?” he roared with the strain of his own aura. “You dare question my fated bond in front of the men who raised me?”

I didn't flinch, not even blink.

I just watched him like he was a toddler having a tantrum in a grocery store.

“I dare enforce the laws you yourself signed, Vance. You brought a rogue into our land. You bypassed the holding cells. You ignored the mandatory blood-testing. Explain yourself to the Council, not to me.”

His eyes blazed with a manic heat, but the Elders were watching him now, their expressions shifting from confusion to a cold, judgmental scrutiny. He couldn't simply dismiss me, I was speaking the language of the pack’s survival, and he was speaking the language of a man led by his groin. One point secured, the balance shifted toward me.

“She’s my mate!” he growled, slamming his fist onto the table.

The obsidian vibrated under the blow. “The Moon Goddess chose her. That overrides your petty laws. The bond is sacred! It’s the highest law of our kind!”

I tilted my head, smiling coldly, a thin, cruel expression that didn't reach my eyes.

“Convenient, isn't it? A bond that appears just as our border negotiations are falling apart? A girl who just happens to be in a cage at the exact coordinate where our scouts were murdered last week? Tell me, Vance, did the Goddess also tell you to ignore the safety of your pack for a pretty face? Did she tell you that one girl’s comfort is worth the risk of a Trojan horse in our nursery?”