11

11

The answer came faster than Adam expected. That alone made him distrust it. He was in his office when Matthew stepped in without knocking again and this time there was something different in his expression. Not urgency. Not alarm. Certainty.

“He responded,” Matthew said.

Adam didn’t sit. He stayed standing behind the desk, hands braced against the wood like he was already preparing to push back against whatever came next.

“Through council?” Adam asked.

Matthew nodded, holding up a folded document. “Official. Sealed.”

Adam took it, breaking the seal without ceremony. His eyes moved quickly over the page, once, then slower the second time.

Matthew watched him carefully. “Well?”

Adam let out a quiet breath. “He agrees.”

Matthew’s brows lifted slightly. “Just like that?”

Adam shook his head once. “Not just like that.” He turned the paper so Matthew could read.

Alpha Adam of Edgewater Falls,

Your terms are acceptable.

However, I set one condition. During the talks, it will be only the two Alphas present, with two guards each. No councils. No witnesses beyond those required for safety.

This is not a council negotiation. This is between crowns.

If you agree, I will arrive on the tenth day as scheduled.

Alpha Decker

Matthew read it once, then again, slower. “No council,” Matthew muttered. “He wants to control the conversation.”

Adam’s jaw tightened. “He wants it personal.”

Matthew glanced up. “That’s worse.”

Adam didn’t disagree. Because removing the council meant removing layers of protection, but it also removed politics. No advisors whispering in ears. No agendas muddying the water. Just Alpha to Alpha. Truth or lies, stripped bare.

Matthew crossed his arms. “Are you going to accept it?”

Adam didn’t answer immediately. He stared at the words again. This is between crowns. There was something in that line that felt… deliberate. Calculated. Respectful in a way that didn’t feel like weakness.

Adam exhaled slowly. “Yes.”

Matthew’s head snapped slightly. “That was fast.”

“He’s right about one thing,” Adam said. “This didn’t start with us. And if it ends, it won’t be because the council agreed on it.”

Matthew studied him. “Or it ends because one of you kills the other.”

Adam’s gaze didn’t waver. “Then we’ll find out which one of us walks out.”

Matthew held his stare for a moment, then nodded once. “I’ll send confirmation.”

Adam folded the letter carefully, more carefully than the first. “Make it official,” Adam said. “Ten days. No attacks. No movement across borders unless agreed.”

Matthew turned to go, then paused. “Do you trust him?”

Adam let out a quiet, humorless breath. “No.”

Matthew’s mouth twitched. “Good.”

The message went out within the hour. And just like that, it was set. Ten days. Ten days where the world held its breath.

The first thing Adam did was double the patrols again. The second thing he did was pretend it wasn’t because he expected the ceasefire to break at any second.

“Rotate scouts every four hours,” he told the captains gathered in the war room. “No pattern. No predictability.”

“What about the north ridge?” one of them asked.

“Fortify it,” Adam replied. “Extra eyes at night.”

Matthew stood beside him, adding details, shifting assignments, tightening the net. No one relaxed. Not a single warrior let their guard down. Because even though the attacks had stopped, that didn’t mean the war had. It just meant it had changed shape.

At the hospital, the change was just as noticeable. Lotty stood at the nurses’ station on the third day of the ceasefire, flipping through charts with a growing sense of unease.

“No new cases?” she asked.

The nurse beside her shook her head. “Not like before. Just the usual.”

Lotty’s jaw tightened. The usual. Broken bones. Cuts. Illness. Human problems. Not claws. Not tearing. Not the kind of wounds that haunted her sleep. It should have felt like relief. It didn’t. It felt like waiting.

Dr. Hensley approached, glancing over her shoulder at the chart. “You look disappointed.”

Lotty shot him a look. “I’m not disappointed. I’m suspicious.”

Hensley’s mouth twitched. “Good. That means you’re paying attention.”

She closed the file. “This doesn’t feel like peace.”

“No,” Hensley agreed quietly. “It feels like someone hit pause.” Lotty nodded. Exactly.

That night, back at the packhouse, Lotty found herself lingering in the hallway outside Adam’s office. Not because she needed to talk. Because she didn’t know what she wanted yet.

The door opened before she knocked. Adam stood there, already knowing.

“You hover now?” he asked.

Lotty rolled her eyes. “Don’t get used to it.”

He stepped aside. “Come in.”

She did, glancing at the maps, the papers, the constant evidence of war spread across every surface. “You agreed,” she said.

Adam nodded once. “I did.”

“No council.”

“No council.”

Lotty crossed her arms. “That’s either really smart… or really dangerous.”

“Both,” Adam said.

She studied him for a moment. “You think he’s serious?”

Adam didn’t answer right away. “I think he believes what he said,” Adam replied finally.

“That’s not the same thing,” Lotty said.

“I know.”

Silence stretched between them. Then Lotty spoke again, quieter this time. “I extended my leave.”

Adam’s gaze flicked to her. “From the hospital?”

“From the human hospital,” she clarified. “I’m staying.”

Adam didn’t react outwardly, but something in his shoulders shifted.

“Just until the talks are done,” she added quickly.

He nodded once. “Of course.” But the words didn’t feel temporary. Not really.

Lotty looked around the room again, then back at him. “If this works…” Adam met her eyes. “If this works,” she continued, “I might not go back.”

The admission hung between them. Heavy.Real.

Adam exhaled slowly. “Then we make sure it works.”

Lotty huffed softly. “No pressure.” He almost smiled.

Preparation took over the packhouse like a second heartbeat. The omegas moved through the halls with quiet efficiency, transforming empty rooms into guest quarters. Fresh linens. Reinforced locks. Windows checked twice, then a third time.

Lotty passed one of the rooms being prepared and paused. “Those for Alpha Decker?” she asked.

The omega nodded. “Alpha’s orders.”

Lotty stepped inside, glancing around. Simple. Controlled. No unnecessary comfort. No vulnerability. Adam wasn’t welcoming a guest. He was containing a threat.

“Make sure the windows latch from the inside and outside,” Lotty said.

The omega blinked. “Both?”

Lotty nodded. “If something goes wrong, we need options.”

The omega nodded quickly. “Yes, ma’am.”

Lotty winced slightly. “Don’t call me that.”

The omega smiled faintly. “Sorry… Lotty.”

By day five, the tension had settled into something almost unbearable. No attacks. No border breaches. No signs of movement. Scouts returned with nothing but uneasy reports.

“Too quiet,” one of them said in the war room.

Adam nodded. “I know.”

Matthew added, “My contacts in Dark Mountain say the same thing. No unauthorized movement. No rogue attacks.”

Adam’s eyes narrowed. “He’s controlling them.”

Matthew nodded. “Or someone is.”

Adam didn’t like that answer.

By day seven, even the pack members started to feel it. Whispers in the halls. Speculation. Hope. Fear.

“What if it actually ends?” someone asked in the dining hall.

“What if it doesn’t?” someone else replied.

Lotty listened without speaking, her wolf restless under her skin, pacing, waiting, sensing something just out of reach.

By day nine, the packhouse was ready. Rooms prepared. Security set. Patrols tightened to the point of suffocation.

Adam stood in the war room late that night, staring at the map one last time before the meeting.

Matthew leaned against the wall. “Everything’s in place.” Adam nodded. “Lotty?” Matthew asked.

Adam’s gaze flicked toward the hallway. “She’s staying in the house tomorrow.”

Matthew raised a brow. “Your idea or hers?”

Adam’s mouth tightened. “Both.”

Matthew smirked faintly. “Good luck with that.” Adam huffed.

On the tenth morning, the air felt different. Heavier. Charged. Like the world was waiting for something to break.

Adam stood at the front of the packhouse, hands at his sides, eyes fixed on the road that led through the trees. Matthew stood beside him. Warriors lined the perimeter. Silent. Still. Ready. Behind them, inside the house, Lotty waited.

And somewhere out there, Decker was coming. Not as an enemy charging the border. Not as a shadow in the woods. But as an Alpha. Walking straight into Adam’s territory. And for the first time since the war began, Adam didn’t know if he was about to end it… Or walk directly into its most dangerous moment yet.