The Dead Man’s Gift

Elara’s POV

The council hall was packed by the time I arrived, every seat filled with Alphas in their formal furs, nobles dripping in jewels, and council members whispering behind gloved hands. I felt every single eye turn toward me the moment I stepped through the doors, and for one brief second my old instincts screamed at me to shrink, to apologize for taking up space, to disappear.

I didn’t listen to them. I walked down the center aisle with my chin lifted, my heels striking the marble floor in a steady rhythm, and I took my seat in the front row without looking left or right.

The lawyer, an older wolf named Mr. Halveth, cleared his throat and unfolded the will with shaking hands. “As per the last testament of Lord Alistair Vexley, Beta of Blackthorn Pack, the following bequests are to be honored.”

The room went silent.

“To his granddaughter, Elara Vexley, I bequeath the entirety of Blackthorn Territory, all assets and holdings therein, and my seat upon the Royal Council.”

The silence shattered into chaos.

Gasps rippled through the hall. Somewhere behind me a chair scraped violently against the floor as someone shot to their feet. I kept my eyes forward, my hands folded calmly in my lap, though my heart was pounding hard enough that I was sure the wolves closest to me could hear it.

“This is absurd.” The voice boomed from the back of the hall, deep and furious. I turned to see Alpha Boris Kraven storming down the aisle, his massive frame trembling with barely contained rage. “That territory should have gone to a proper heir. Someone capable of leading a pack, not some overweight girl who ran off to hide across the ocean the moment things got difficult.”

A few muffled laughs rippled through the crowd.

Old wounds tried to claw their way up my throat. I remembered a version of myself who would have shrunk under those words, who would have run out of the hall in tears. That girl was gone.

I stood slowly, smoothing down my dress, and let the silence stretch just long enough to make him uncomfortable.

“Tell me, Alpha Kraven,” I said, my voice calm and clear enough to carry to every corner of the hall, “which part of my body do you believe disqualifies me from reading a ledger or sitting in a council meeting? Is it my hips, or perhaps my thighs? I am simply trying to understand the qualifications you believe leadership actually requires.”

A few surprised laughs broke out, quickly silenced by nervous glances toward Kraven.

His face reddened. “You have no experience. No pack of your own. You abandoned your people.”

“I left because I was seventeen and this kingdom made it very clear it had no place for someone who looked like me,” I said, taking a step toward him, refusing to let my voice shake. “But my grandfather trained me in trade law and territory governance every single summer I visited him growing up, something you would know if you had ever bothered to speak to him about anything other than land you wanted for yourself.”

Kraven’s jaw tightened.

“My weight has never once affected my ability to read a contract, negotiate a treaty, or run a household budget,” I continued, my voice rising with a confidence that felt like fire in my chest. “What it has done, apparently, is give men like you something to hide behind when you don’t actually have a real argument against my qualifications.”

The hall had gone completely silent now, every eye locked on the two of us.

“You will fail,” Kraven spat, though his voice had lost most of its earlier power. “Blackthorn will fall apart under you within a year.”

“Then you’re welcome to watch me prove you wrong,” I said evenly. “From wherever you’re standing when that happens.”

He glared at me for a long moment, then turned and stormed out of the hall, several of his allies trailing uncertainly behind him. I stood there in the ringing silence, my pulse hammering, and felt something unfamiliar settle over me. Pride. Not relief that the confrontation was over, but genuine pride in myself for not backing down.

Mr. Halveth cleared his throat again, clearly relieved to continue. “There is one more matter to address regarding the boundaries of Blackthorn Territory. The land borders the northern royal holdings, specifically the region currently under review for the crown’s expansion project.”

Murmurs broke out again, quieter this time but heavier with meaning. I didn’t fully understand what that meant yet, but the way several council members glanced toward the empty throne seat at the front of the hall told me it mattered a great deal.

I gathered the documents Mr. Halveth handed me and made my way toward the exit, my mind spinning with everything that had just happened. Territory and Assets. A council seat. An enemy already made within my first hour back in this kingdom. It was almost too much to process at once.

I pushed through the heavy doors of the hall, still lost in thought, and collided hard with someone’s chest. Strong hands caught my shoulders before I could stumble backward, steadying me, and a scent hit me before I even looked up. Cedar and rain and something warm underneath it, something achingly familiar that sent my entire body rigid.

I knew that scent, I had spent seven years trying to forget that scent. I lifted my eyes slowly, already knowing, already dreading, and found myself staring straight into the pale gold eyes of Cassian Thornwyck..