10

10

Adam didn’t sleep. He sat at the desk in his office long after the house went quiet, staring at the map lines until they blurred, listening to the packhouse breathe around him. Every creak of timber, every distant footstep, every soft murmur from the night patrols below felt amplified as if the building itself knew it was holding something fragile.

Ten days. If Decker agreed. If he didn’t… Adam’s jaw tightened. He wasn’t going to let the council steer him blind. He’d learned early, painfully, that councils could be as dangerous as enemies. Not because they were stronger. Because they were patient.

When the sun finally rose, it was so cold and pale. A winter light that looked like it had to fight to exist. Adam was already dressed when Matthew knocked once and stepped into his office.

“They’re ready,” Matthew said.

Adam didn’t ask who. He already knew. “The council chamber?” Adam asked.

Matthew nodded. “All of them. Even the ones who usually ‘have other obligations.’”

Adam stood, rolling his shoulders back as if he could shake off the weight. “They’re scared.”

Matthew’s mouth twisted. “Or excited.” Adam gave him a look. Matthew sighed. “Both can be true.”

Adam grabbed the folder with Decker’s letter and his own drafted conditions, then paused. “Lotty?”

Matthew’s gaze flicked to the hallway. “She’s awake. She insisted.”

Adam’s chest tightened. He didn’t want her in the chamber because it was safe. He wanted her there because she deserved to know what was being decided around her, decisions that could reshape her life without her consent, the same way it had when she was fifteen.

“I told her she’d be present,” Adam said quietly.

Matthew nodded once, approving. “She’s already there,” Matthew said. “Waiting outside.”

Adam walked out with Matthew at his side. The packhouse halls were quieter than usual, but the silence held tension like a wire pulled too tight. Warriors nodded as he passed, eyes sharp, steps quick. Some looked at him with trust. Others looked at him like they were trying to measure how much blood would spill under his command.

Lotty stood outside the council chamber doors, arms crossed, hair pulled back, her posture all controlled defiance. Two warriors lingered nearby, Cole and Rylan, trying to look casual and failing.

When she saw Adam, her eyes narrowed slightly. “You didn’t start without me.” It wasn’t a question.

Adam shook his head. “I said you’d be there.”

Lotty’s shoulders eased by a fraction, but her voice remained sharp. “Good.”

Matthew’s mouth twitched faintly. “Try not to stab anyone with words.”

Lotty glanced at him. “No promises.”

Adam reached for the chamber doors. “Stay close.”

Lotty’s chin lifted. “I’m not hiding behind you.”

“I’m not asking you to,” Adam replied. “I’m asking you to listen.” Her gaze held him for a beat. Then she nodded once.Adam pushed the doors open.

The council chamber smelled like old wood and old power. A round table dominated the room, carved with pack symbols worn smooth by generations of hands. Seats were arranged in a ring, each marked by rank.

The pack council sat waiting, men and women with sharp eyes and careful expressions. Some had served under Adam’s parents. Some had fought beside them. Some had smiled in family portraits and then vanished when blood hit the ground.

Adam knew who they were. He knew which ones had truly cared. And which ones cared only for the position. When Adam stepped in, they rose as one.

“Alpha,” Councilwoman Mara said, voice smooth.

Adam gave a short nod. “Sit.” They obeyed.

Lotty stepped in behind him, and the air shifted instantly. Not all the council looked surprised. Some looked displeased. A few looked openly wary. Adam led Lotty to the chair beside him. Not at the far edge. Not behind him. Beside him. A statement without words.

The smallest council member, Councilman Darrin, thin-faced and sharp-eyed tilted his head. “I wasn’t aware Dr. Alotta would be present for this meeting.”

Lotty’s jaw tightened at hearing her full name.

Adam’s voice stayed calm. “You are now.”

Darrin’s gaze flicked to Lotty, then back to Adam. “This council meeting concerns pack security and diplomacy.”

Lotty’s voice was cool. “And I’m pack.” A murmur rippled around the table.

Councilwoman Mara’s expression softened slightly, but others stayed hard.

Councilman Jace, older, graying, one of Adam’s father’s closest advisors, spoke next. “With respect, Alpha… She's been living among humans for years. Her loyalty…”

Lotty’s eyes flashed. “My loyalty?”

Jace didn’t flinch. “Your priorities. Your understanding of pack politics. The risks.”

Adam cut in, voice firm. “Enough.” The room went still. Adam’s gaze swept the table. “Lotty is here because she has the right to hear what is being negotiated. She has the right to understand the danger. And she has the right to know whether this council intends to make decisions that affect her without her knowledge.”

Mara’s brows lifted. “No one suggested…”

Adam’s stare sharpened. “Some of you did, without opening your mouths.” Silence.

Lotty’s posture remained rigid, but Adam saw the subtle shift in her shoulders, an almost imperceptible relief that he wasn’t going to pretend she didn’t matter.

Matthew stood at the back of the room, arms crossed, eyes scanning the council like he was taking inventory.

Adam placed Decker’s letter on the table. “We received formal communication from Alpha Decker,” Adam said. “He claims Gregory is incapacitated after a stroke. Council-only ceremony confirmed. Decker is Alpha.”

Jace’s mouth tightened. “We’ve heard.”

Mara leaned in slightly. “And he has ordered the attacks to stop. For now.”

“For now,” Adam agreed.

Councilman Darrin’s voice dripped with skepticism. “A trap.”

“Most likely,” Adam said bluntly.

Lotty’s gaze shifted to him. She didn’t argue. She didn’t soften it. She just listened.

Adam continued, “Decker offered truce talks.”

The room erupted. Not shouting, this wasn’t a mob but overlapping voices, sharp and fast.

“Impossible.”

“He’s buying time.”

“He’s testing our defenses.”

“He wants access to our territory.”

“He wants to see our weakness.”

Mara lifted a hand. “Enough. Alpha will speak.” The council quieted.

Adam waited until silence settled fully before speaking again. “I share your distrust,” Adam said. “I do not believe Decker is offering peace out of goodwill. I believe he is offering it because it benefits him.”

Councilman Jace leaned back. “Then we should refuse.”

Lotty’s head snapped slightly toward Jace. Her eyes narrowed.

Adam didn’t look away from the council. “Refusing doesn’t end the war. It only removes our chance to shape what happens next.”

Darrin’s lips curled. “Or our chance to survive it.”

Matthew spoke for the first time, voice steady. “We prepare either way. Talks don’t mean trust. Talks mean information.”

Mara nodded once. “Information is useful.”

Jace’s gaze slid to Lotty. “And what does the doctor think? Since she’s sitting in a seat of power.”

Lotty’s voice stayed controlled, but Adam felt the edge. “I think the worst injuries stop when one side wants something else.”

A few council members frowned.

Lotty continued, eyes scanning them. “If Decker has stopped attacks, he either wants to appear reasonable… or he’s repositioning. Either way, ignoring him doesn’t keep people alive.”

Jace scoffed softly. “You speak like a human.”

Lotty’s eyes flashed. “I speak like someone who’s been stitching your people back together all week.”

A sharp silence fell. Mara’s gaze lowered briefly, like she couldn’t argue with that.

Adam watched the council absorb it. Some didn’t like hearing it. Some respected it. And some, Adam could see it in the way their eyes moved, were already calculating how to use Lotty’s words later.

Adam didn’t trust those ones. He never had. He tapped the table once, bringing focus back. “This is what I’m proposing,” Adam said, pulling his own drafted document forward. “Conditions for truce talks.”

He slid it into the center of the table. Matthew took a copy and began passing pages around the ring. As the council read, Adam spoke about each condition aloud.

“First: The meeting will take place here, on Edgewater Falls territory, under council witness.”

Mara nodded. “Reasonable.”

“Second: Decker will arrive with no more than two council guards. All visitors will be searched. No weapons beyond ceremonial blades.”

Darrin’s mouth tightened. “Ceremonial blades can still cut.”

“They can,” Adam agreed. “And our warriors will be present.”

“Third: A ceasefire begins immediately upon Decker’s formal agreement and lasts until the conclusion of talks.”

Jace looked up sharply. “And if they break it?”

Adam’s gaze hardened. “If either side attacks during the ten-day preparation window, talks are cancelled and retaliation follows.”

A murmur.

Mara leaned forward. “Ten days.”

Adam nodded. “The meeting will take place in ten days. Enough time to prepare security. Enough time to observe whether the ceasefire holds. Enough time to see if Decker can actually control his pack.”

Matthew added, “If he can’t control them now, he won’t control them later.”

Lotty’s fingers curled on the table edge. She didn’t like the idea of ten days. Ten days of waiting was ten days of nerves fraying, ten days of wondering when the quiet would snap. But she understood the logic.

Jace’s voice turned colder. “And what does Decker get in return?”

Adam met his gaze. “A chance.”

Darrin snorted. “A chance to kill you.”

Adam’s expression didn’t change. “A chance to speak. Under our rules. If he attempts harm, he will not leave this territory alive.”

That was not a threat. It was a fact. The council fell silent again. Even the skeptics looked slightly reassured by Adam’s certainty by the Alpha in him, steady and unyielding.

Mara’s gaze moved to Lotty. “And where will the doctor be during this meeting?”

Lotty’s spine stiffened.

Adam answered before she could. “Where she chooses.” The words landed like a hammer.

Mara’s brows rose. “Alpha.”

“She’s not a prisoner,” Adam said, voice sharpened. “And I will not hide her like shame.”

Lotty’s throat tightened. She looked down at the table for half a second, forcing herself not to react.

Jace’s mouth tightened. “It’s not shame. It’s strategy.”

“It’s fear,” Lotty said quietly.

Jace’s eyes narrowed.

Lotty didn’t back down. “You’re afraid of what Decker might do if he sees me. You’re afraid I’ll be used. You’re afraid I’ll be a weakness.”

Darrin’s lips pressed thin. “Are you not?”

Lotty’s voice went colder. “Weakness doesn't exist. Weakness is pretending someone doesn’t matter.”

Adam’s chest tightened with pride he didn’t allow himself to show. Matthew’s gaze flicked to Adam, brief approval in his eyes.

Mara exhaled slowly. “We are not questioning her value. We are questioning risk.”

Adam leaned forward slightly, voice controlled but sharp. “And I’m questioning whether some of you are thinking like council members… or like opportunists.” The room snapped tighter.

Darrin’s eyes hardened. “Careful, Alpha.”

Adam smiled without warmth. “No. You should be careful.” Silence dropped like a blade.

Adam let it settle. Because he wanted them to remember who held the crown. Not the council. Not the old loyalties. Him.

Finally, Mara spoke, voice measured. “If Decker agrees to these terms, we proceed. If he refuses, we prepare for escalation.”

Adam nodded. “Yes.”

Jace folded his paper. “And if he agrees… and still attacks in the meantime?”

“Then we respond,” Adam said. “No hesitation.”

Mara’s gaze shifted to Matthew. “Do we have confirmation he can be reached through the council channel?”

Matthew nodded once. “Yes.”

Adam stood. “Then the council will send the terms. Officially. No loose words. No personal notes. No side deals.” His eyes swept the table again on the last two words.

Darrin’s face remained unreadable, but Adam saw the slight tightening around his mouth. Good. Let him worry.

Lotty stood too, pushing her chair back.

Mara’s gaze followed her. “Dr. Alotta…”

Lotty held up a hand. “Lotty.” A few council members blinked. Lotty’s eyes stayed steady. “I’m not here for power. I’m here because people are bleeding and I can stop it. If you have concerns about me being ‘human’…” her mouth tightened, “…take it up with the patients I kept alive this week.”

No one spoke. Because they couldn’t.

Adam reached for the folder and tucked Decker’s letter away. “We wait for his response,” Adam said. “And we do not relax just because the woods are quiet.”

As they filed out, Matthew fell into step beside Adam.

“He’ll agree,” Matthew murmured.

Adam didn’t look at him. “Why are you so sure?”

Matthew’s voice dropped. “Because he wants something close to us. Close enough to touch.”

Adam’s gaze flicked sideways, briefly landing on Lotty walking ahead of them, shoulders squared, guarded flanking her like silent shadows.

Adam’s jaw tightened. “Yes,” he said quietly. “He does.”

And if Decker agreed, if the ceasefire held, then ten days from now, Adam would look into the eyes of the wolf who had inherited his father’s war…and decide whether the future was peace or blood. Either way, Adam would be ready. Because he wasn’t going to lose his sister to history the way he’d lost his parents. Not again.