Semua Bab The Alpha Forgets : Bab 31 - Bab 40

31 The ride back to the packhouse felt different than the ride out. Not safer. Just… changed. The northern border had not erupted into blood. No wolves had crossed. No one had attacked. But the air inside the SUV still held the weight of everything left unsaid. Decker’s counsel listening through the pack link, the challenge he had delayed without truly ending, the two Dark Mountain warriors now following behind in a second vehicle like a living reminder that this truce still balanced on a knife edge. Lotty sat in the passenger seat, one hand resting against the door, the other curled loosely in her lap. Matthew drove. Adam rode in the back with Decker, quiet in the way he always got when he was thinking three moves ahead. Decker’s gaze stayed fixed out the window most of the way home. Lotty could feel him through the bond, tired, sharp, more settled than he had been that morning, but still carrying the hard edge of command from addressing his pack. He had stepped into his territor

33 The Dark Mountain council chamber sat deep in the stone heart of the mountain, a room built long before any of them had been born and shaped to remind every wolf who entered it that power was older than blood and colder than loyalty. Tonight, the chamber felt even colder. Rain struck the narrow windows in uneven bursts, tapping against the dark glass like impatient fingers. Torches burned low in the iron brackets along the walls, their light shifting across the carved table at the center of the room, a slab of black wood ringed with high-backed chairs, each marked with the old crest of the council. Six seats were filled. One remained empty. Decker’s. No one looked at it for long. No one wanted to make his absence feel like the accusation it had become. Councilwoman Vera sat with her hands folded neatly in front of her, her face sharp and unreadable in the firelight. Beside her, Councilman Holt stared down at the table like he could avoid the conversation entirely if he refused

35 Hand in hand, Decker and Lotty walked back toward the packhouse. The morning air still held the cool bite of early day, and the grounds around the house were busy with the quiet activity of a pack settling into its routines. Warriors moved along patrol paths, a few omegas crossed the courtyard carrying supplies, and somewhere near the kitchen door someone was arguing loudly about breakfast portions. Behind them, a few paces back, two guards followed at a respectful distance. Cole from Edgewater Falls and Tomas from Dark Mountain. The arrangement had become routine over the last few days. Mixed pairs. Always watching. Lotty had almost gotten used to it. Almost. She squeezed Decker’s hand lightly as they climbed the front steps. “You were very distracting in the gym today,” she said. Decker glanced down at her, unrepentant. “You were enjoying it.” “That’s not the point.” “That's exactly the point.” Lotty shook her head, trying not to smile. “You’re supposed to be recovering.”

37 The evening had been planned carefully. Too carefully. Decker had spent most of the afternoon arranging it, quietly coordinating with the kitchen and slipping back upstairs before Lotty could suspect anything. The guards had noticed, of course, nothing happened in the packhouse without someone noticing but none of them said a word. By the time Lotty finished her shift at the hospital and returned to the third floor, the room smelled faintly of roasted meat, herbs, and fresh bread. She stepped through the door and stopped. The small table near the window had been set for two. Candles burned low and warm, their light flickering softly against the walls. Plates were already laid out, along with a bottle of wine Lotty recognized from the packhouse cellar. Decker stood near the window when she entered. He looked… nervous. Lotty raised an eyebrow. “Well,” she said slowly. “This is unexpected.” Decker rubbed the back of his neck. “I thought we could take a break from politics and att

39 The candles had burned down to stubs. Dinner sat half-cleared on the small table, forgotten. The room still carried the faint warmth of what had almost happened, something soft, something intimate, but now it was overshadowed by the sharp edge of reality. Blood had replaced romance. War had interrupted everything. Lotty stood near the window, arms folded, staring out into the dark grounds below where warriors still moved in quiet patrols after the rogue attack. The packhouse was secure again, but no one was pretending it was over. Behind her, Decker leaned against the edge of the bed. Silent. Thinking. The marking hadn’t happened. He had planned it carefully, timing, mood, patience, but the attack had shattered that moment completely. And now… Now everything had a clock on it. Two days. Two days to finish the truce. Two days before he returned to Dark Mountain. Two days before whatever Tony did with Roderick either stabilized the pack… or tore it apart. And somewhere in that, h