The War Room

The Alpha’s office had not changed in five years.

I walked through the heavy oak doors, and the scent hit me instantly. It was a rich mixture of old paper, polished mahogany, and the dark, forest-like musk of Ashren Thalric. It was a smell that used to make my knees weak when I was a foolish girl hiding in the shadows of the hallway, hoping for just a glimpse of the future Alpha. Now it just smelled like regret.

I moved to the center of the room. The large desk was covered in clutter. There were handwritten reports, coffee mugs stained with dregs, and a massive paper map of the territory pinned to the corkboard on the wall. Red pins marked the sites of rogue attacks. The map was bleeding red. It looked like a losing game of strategy played by a man who was running out of pieces.

"Clear the room," I said to the Silver Creek warriors who had followed us in. My voice was calm, but it carried the weight of a command that brooked no argument.

The Gamma, a stout man named Hareth, whom I remembered as being particularly cruel to the omegas, hesitated. He looked at me with a mixture of fear and defiance.

"This is the Alpha’s private sanctuary," Hareth grumbled, his hand hovering near his belt. "You cannot just."

Drax moved. He didn't even draw a weapon. He simply stepped into Hareth’s personal space, towering over the Gamma by a full head. Drax let out a low, vibrating growl that shook the window panes. It was the sound of a predator that ate other predators for breakfast.

"The General gave you an order," Drax said, his voice like grinding stones. "Get out. Before I throw you out."

Hareth went pale. He looked at the other warriors, realized no one was going to back him up against a Royal Commander, and scurried out of the room like a frightened rat.

"Secure the door," I told Drax. "I want five minutes before Ashren gets here. I need to see just how bad the situation is."

Drax nodded and took up a position by the entrance, arms crossed over his massive chest.

I walked around the desk. I ran my hand along the leather of the high-backed chair. This was the seat of power. This was where the decisions were made. This was where Ashren’s father had sat when he signed the orders that kept my family in poverty.

I sat down.

The leather creaked under my weight. I leaned back, resting my boots on the edge of the expensive mahogany desk. I crossed my ankles and waited.

I didn't have to wait long.

Heavy footsteps pounded down the hallway. The door was flung open with enough force to bounce off the wall.

Ashren Thalric stormed in. He was breathless, his chest heaving beneath his flannel shirt. His hair had come loose from its knot, falling in dark waves around his face. He looked wild and desperate.

He stopped dead when he saw me.

He saw the sunglasses hooked into my shirt. He saw the relaxed, arrogant posture. And he saw me sitting in his chair.

"Elara," he breathed. The name left his lips like a prayer.

He took a step forward, his golden eyes searching my face as if trying to memorize a ghost. The mate bond flared between us, hot and insistent. I felt it pull at my navel, urging me to get up, to go to him, to comfort the distress rolling off him in waves.

I crushed the feeling ruthlessly. I imagined my heart was a block of ice.

"General," I corrected him. I did not move. I did not smile. "You are late for your own briefing, Alpha."

Ashren blinked, as if waking from a dream. He shook his head, running a hand through his hair. He looked at Drax, then back at me.

"I thought you were dead," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "For five years... I thought I killed you. I had patrols search the forest for months. We never found a body."

"You didn't find a body because I was busy building a life," I said coldly. "While you were playing wolf in the woods, I was training in the capital. I see you haven't changed much. Still disorganized. Still letting your emotions rule you."

I picked up a stack of reports from his desk and dropped them back down with a loud slap.

"These casualty reports are appalling, Ashren. You have lost twelve warriors in the last week alone. Your perimeter is full of holes. You are bleeding out."

Ashren flinched. The shift from emotional reunion to military critique jarred him. He straightened his spine, trying to salvage some shred of his Alpha authority.

"We are fighting a ghost army," he said, his voice hardening. "They strike at night. They don't leave tracks. They use magic, Elara. We are wolves. We fight with teeth and claws. We aren't equipped to fight sorcery."

"That is why I am here," I said. "To do what you cannot."

I tapped the smartwatch on my wrist. A small projector hummed to life, beaming a three-dimensional holographic map of the Silver Creek territory into the air above the desk. It was blue and crisp, rotating slowly. It showed thermal signatures, elevation, and troop movements in real time.

Ashren stared at the hologram. He had likely never seen tech this advanced. The Borderlands were decades behind Onyx City.

"This is what real war looks like," I said, standing up. I walked through the hologram, pointing to the western ridge. "You have been concentrating your forces here, at the river crossing. But the attacks aren't coming from the river. They are coming from the old mines."

I swiped my hand, and the map zoomed in on a network of abandoned tunnels beneath the mountains.

"The rogues are moving underground," I explained. "That is why you don't find tracks. They are popping up behind your lines, striking, and vanishing back into the earth before your patrols can respond."

Ashren looked at the map, realization dawning on his face. He looked horrified.

"The mines..." he whispered. "I ordered those sealed years ago."

"Someone unsealed them," I said. "You have a traitor, Ashren. Someone on the inside is giving them the codes to the blast doors."

The accusation hung in the air like smoke.

Ashren looked at me. "A traitor? My pack is loyal. We are family."

"Loyalty is a currency," I said, walking around the desk until I was standing right in front of him. "And right now, your pack is bankrupt. Your people are starving. They are scared. Desperate wolves do desperate things."

I was close enough to touch him now. The heat radiating from his body was intense. I could smell the soap he used, the sweat on his skin. I saw the flecks of amber in his gold eyes.

He looked down at me. For a moment, the war was forgotten. The hologram flickered unnoticed between us.

"You look..." he started, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "You look powerful. Beautiful."

He reached out a hand, his fingers trembling slightly as they moved toward my cheek.

"I regret it," he said. The words came out in a rush, as if he had been holding them back for five years. "Every single day. I regret what I did on that stage. I was young. I was stupid. I listened to the Elders instead of my own soul."

My heart gave a painful throb. This was what I had wanted to hear when I was eighteen. I had dreamed of him coming to find me, apologizing, and taking me back.

But I wasn't eighteen anymore.

I caught his wrist before he could touch me. My grip was like iron.

Ashren’s eyes widened. He tried to pull back, but he couldn't. I was stronger than him. The "weak" girl he had banished was now holding an Alpha in place with one hand.

"Do not touch me," I said softly. My voice was dangerous. "And do not rewrite history to make yourself feel better. You didn't reject me because you were young. You rejected me because I was an embarrassment. You wanted a trophy, Luna. You wanted strength."

I shoved his hand away. He stumbled back a step, rubbing his wrist.

"Well, look at me now, Ashren," I said, spreading my arms. "I am the strength you wanted. I am the general of the Royal Army. I command a legion of killers. I have the blood of kings in my veins."

I leaned in close, my violet eyes flashing.

"But I am not yours. Not anymore. I belong to the Crown. And I am here to save your miserable pack because it is my job, not because I care about you."

Ashren looked like I had slapped him. The hope in his eyes shattered. He looked down at the floor, his shoulders slumping.

"I deserve that," he murmured. "I know I have no right to ask... but the bond. You must feel it. It is driving me insane."

"Control yourself," I snapped. "We are at war. If you cannot keep your zipper up and your mind on the mission, I will relieve you of command and run this pack myself. Do I make myself clear?"

Ashren swallowed hard. He looked up, his expression hardening into grim acceptance. He nodded slowly.

"Crystal clear, General."

"Good."

I turned away from him, breaking the tension. I looked at Drax.

"Drax, mobilize Squad Alpha. I want the mine entrances rigged with motion sensors and explosives by nightfall. If a rat pokes its head out, I want it blown off."

"Understood," Drax said, pushing off the wall. He shot Ashren a look of pure disdain before opening the door.

I looked back at the holographic map.

"And Ashren?" I said, not looking at him.

"Yes?"

"Get a shower. You smell like desperation. It is bad for morale."

I heard him take a sharp breath, but he didn't argue. He turned and walked out of the office, closing the door softly behind him.

As soon as he was gone, I let out a breath I had been holding for ten minutes. My hands were shaking. I grabbed the edge of the desk, gripping the wood until my knuckles turned white.

"You handled him well," Drax said quietly.

"I wanted to kill him," I whispered. "And I wanted to kiss him. I hate this bond, Drax. I hate it."

"It is biology," Drax said, walking over and placing a heavy hand on my shoulder. "But you are not an animal. You are a queen. Biology does not dictate your choices."

I nodded, straightening up. I pushed the feelings back down into the dark box in my mind where I kept all my pain.

"You are right," I said. "Let's go hunt some rogues."