Chapter 3

The next morning, I went to the Silvercrest Council Hall.

This was not a sudden decision. Grandmother told me that Callum Thorne had resubmitted Blackridge’s alliance proposal a month earlier.

He had only been waiting for my answer.

I stood outside the Council Hall with the four torn pieces of the candidate list still clenched in my hand.

I had not returned home after leaving the estate. Instead, I had spent the entire night sitting in my car while my phone vibrated until the battery died.

Everett called twenty-three times.

Nolan sent me an entire packet about stress responses and impulsive behavior.

Julian sent a sticker of an angry wolf pup, followed by a message.

[Your Highness, come home when you’re finished being mad.]

Rhys’s message was the shortest.

[Location. Now.]

Not one of them asked whether standing alone on the ceremonial dais had hurt.

They only thought I was throwing another tantrum.

Just as they always did.

A black SUV stopped below the steps, and Callum climbed out.

He wore a black shirt with the sleeves rolled to his forearms. His features were cool and severe, his Alpha scent powerful but held under perfect control.

Everyone said Callum Thorne was difficult to approach. Blackridge had nearly torn itself apart in an internal power struggle before he brought the pack back under control.

Even Everett restrained his arrogance around him.

But when Callum reached me, all he did was offer me a cup of warm oat milk.

“Drink something first.”

I stared at it.

“Grandmother told you?”

“Yes.” His gaze moved over my face. “She said your stomach hurts if you go too long without eating.”

The cup was hot against my palms.

Whenever I ate with the other four, Everett made sure the kitchen avoided every seasoning Mira disliked. Nolan remembered that she could not have cold drinks while wolfsbane remained in her system. Julian cut her steak for her. If the smell of blood made her uneasy, Rhys would have every platter of roast meat removed from the table.

They knew about my stomach problems too.

They simply forgot whenever I was the one sitting in front of them.

An attendant called our names.

Before we entered the registration chamber, Callum stopped.

“You can still change your mind.”

I looked up at him.

“Are you afraid I’ll regret this?”

“Yes.”

His honesty was immediate.

“But I was more afraid that when you finally chose to leave, no one would be waiting on the other side.”

Something touched my heart so gently that, for a moment, it almost hurt.

Inside the registration chamber, the alliance contract between our two packs had already been prepared.

I signed the final page.

Callum signed after me.

The seals of Silvercrest and Blackridge were pressed beneath our names. The clerk entered the union into the Council register, then handed us our sealed copy.

“Your union is now in effect. Congratulations.”

I looked down at the two signatures beneath the terms.

Mine was slightly uneven.

Callum’s was firm and deliberate.

Outside, I plugged my phone into the charger in his SUV. As soon as it powered on, messages began appearing.

Everett.

[Elara, return to the estate by nine.]

Nolan.

[I’ve arranged an appointment with a counselor. You need to talk to someone.]

Julian.

[That dramatic little scene with the list last night—send me the video. I could make something of it.]

Rhys.

[Don’t make me track your location.]

I looked at the screen for a long moment.

Then I photographed a corner of the contract, with the Council seal visible, and sent it to our group chat.

[Don’t wait for me.]

[I’ve registered my union.]

For three seconds, no one replied.

Julian was first.

[That seal looks almost real. Who made it for you?]

Nolan.

[Childish behavior will not resolve this.]

Rhys.

[You expect us to believe a forged contract?]

Everett sent a voice message last.

I pressed play.

His voice was cold, every word delivered like a reprimand.

“Elara, I’m giving you one last chance.”

“Admit the contract is fake.”

“Otherwise, I will consider this a deliberate attempt to disgrace Silvercrest.”

I looked up.

Callum stood beside the open car door, waiting for me.

He had not hurried me. He had not asked to see my messages.

For the first time that morning, I felt myself relax.

Here was someone who did not rush to decide I was wrong.

I left the group chat and deleted the conversation.

Then I dropped the four torn pieces of the candidate list into a nearby bin.

“Let’s go.”

Callum looked at me.

“Where?”

“Back to the Silvercrest estate.”

I slipped the sealed contract into my bag.

“To collect my things. And let them see for themselves.”