Chapter 7: Lukas

I stared at the territorial dispute document before me, resisting the urge to incinerate it with a flick of my lighter. The Northern Packs had been squabbling over the same stretch of hunting grounds for three generations, each Alpha more stubborn than the last. Now they expected me, the Alpha King, to settle their petty grievances when there were genuine threats requiring my attention. I set my pen down and leaned back in my leather chair, the ancient wood creaking beneath me like a warning. Ares stirred in the back of my mind, his irritation mirroring my own.

‘Waste of time,’ he growled, his voice like gravel in my thoughts. ‘Let them fight for it. Strong survives, weak dies.’

"Politics," I muttered aloud to the empty office. "We maintain order so they don't slaughter each other over a few deer."

‘Weakness,’ Ares countered, but without conviction. After six decades together, we'd had this argument countless times. He understood the necessity of diplomacy, even if he despised it.

A sharp, precise knock interrupted our internal debate. Three raps in quick succession—Dominic's signature. I straightened, grateful for the interruption.

"Enter," I called, my voice carrying the authority that made even the strongest Alphas think twice before challenging me.

The door opened to admit Dominic Steele, his lean frame moving with the controlled grace of a predator. The scar across his eye caught the light as he stepped inside, followed by Elder Nora, her silver hair impeccably styled despite the early hour. Interesting. They rarely sought me out together unless something significant had occurred.

"My King," Dominic inclined his head, the gesture efficient rather than obsequious. Elder Nora offered a more formal bow, tradition etched into every movement of her ancient body.

"Sit," I gestured to the chairs across from my desk. "Whiskey?"

"No, thank you," Dominic replied as they seated themselves. Elder Nora simply shook her head, her amber eyes studying me with the unnerving intensity of one who had seen kings rise and fall.

I poured myself two fingers of the amber liquid, more for something to do with my hands than any desire to drink. "What brings my Head of Security and my most respected Elder to my office at this hour?"

Dominic leaned forward slightly, his posture betraying the importance of his news despite his measured tone. "We've apprehended five rogues attempting to breach the southern defenses. Four males, one female."

Ares surged forward in my mind, a growl building in my chest that I didn't bother to suppress. Rogues near my city, my people. Our territory.

‘Kill them all,’ Ares snarled, memories of past breaches flashing between us—the massacre at the eastern village three decades ago, the poisoned water supply last spring, the endless attempts to destabilize what we'd built.

"Condition?" I asked, voice tight with controlled rage.

"Subdued. The patrol used wolfsbane darts rather than lethal force, on my standing orders." Dominic's single functioning eye never wavered from mine. "They're currently unconscious in the holding cells beneath the security headquarters."

"Have they been interrogated?"

"Not yet." Dominic's expression remained neutral, but I detected a hint of frustration beneath his professional veneer. "The males haven't regained consciousness. The female woke briefly, claimed she wasn't part of their group."

"Oh?" I raised an eyebrow, swirling the whiskey in my glass.

"She was... combative," Dominic continued. "Agitated. The guards administered a second dose of wolfsbane to prevent a shift within the cell."

Standard procedure, but something in his tone caught my attention. "You find her claim credible?"

Dominic considered for a moment. "Unclear. She appeared different from the others—better fed, cleaner. But rogues lie, and she was captured with them."

I nodded once, decision made. "I'll interrogate and sentence them personally. In a week's time."

‘Why wait?’ Ares demanded. ‘They threaten us now.’

I ignored him, focusing on Dominic, who inclined his head in acknowledgment.

"Of course, my King. I'll ensure they're prepared for your judgment." He stood with fluid grace. "If there's nothing else, I should return to overseeing the increased patrols."

"Keep me informed of any changes in their status," I said, dismissing him with a nod.

After Dominic departed, I turned my attention to Elder Nora, who had remained silent throughout the exchange, her hands folded neatly in her lap, her face a mask of patience cultivated over centuries.

"You had something to add, Elder?" I prompted, knowing she wouldn't have accompanied Dominic merely to observe.

Her lips curved into the faintest of smiles. "Indeed, my King. I merely wished to remind you of the mating ball to be held in your honour in a week's time."

I suppressed a sigh, taking a slow sip of whiskey instead. "The same night I've just scheduled the trials."

"Precisely." Her smile didn't waver. "Your presence at the ball is expected, anticipated even, by every eligible female wolf from here to the coastal territories."

The mating ball—a tradition as old as the kingdom itself, designed to parade potential mates before the unmated Alpha King. A political necessity I'd managed to avoid through wars and crises that demanded my attention. But peace had settled over the territory in recent years, and the council's patience had worn thin.

"The trials and executions won't take long, Elder Nora," I said, unable to keep a edge of irritation from my voice.

She nodded, apparently satisfied. "Of course, my King. I merely thought to remind you of your... obligations."

Obligations. The word hung between us, heavy with unspoken meaning. An unmated Alpha King was vulnerable—politically, if not physically. The council wanted an heir, a clear line of succession to prevent the bloodshed that had marked previous transitions of power.

"I'm aware of my obligations," I said, the finality in my tone unmistakable.

Elder Nora stood, offering another perfect bow. "Then I shall trouble you no further."

After she departed, I drained my whiskey in a single swallow, the burn nothing compared to the irritation simmering beneath my skin.

‘Mating ball,’ Ares scoffed. ‘Waste of time when rogues threaten our borders.’

For once, I agreed completely with my wolf. But some battles couldn't be won through strength alone, and I'd learned long ago to choose my fights carefully. The rogues would face justice, and I would endure the mating ball. Both were simply duties of the crown I'd fought so hard to claim.

I returned to the territorial dispute with renewed focus. One problem at a time. Always moving forward.