All Chapters of Claws on Ice: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

Harlan's POVMy father called me into his study on a gray Tuesday afternoon, and something about the deliberate formality of the summons, complete with a specific time and a closed door, told me this conversation was going to be different from our usual easy exchanges over coffee."Sit down," he said, and I did, noting the stack of documents already arranged neatly on his desk, more organized than his usual controlled chaos, my wolf picking up on the weight of the moment before he'd said a single substantive word. "I want to talk to you about succession."Something in my chest tightened, old instinct bracing before I'd even fully processed the word. "You're not stepping down. Please tell me you're not stepping down.""Not yet. Not for years, if my health holds the way I expect it to." He allowed himself a small, reassuring smile at my obvious relief. "But a pack this size needs a transition plan long before it actually needs a transition, and now that you're heir-bonded, formally reco

Harlan's POVMy father canceled our weekly council prep session for the second time in as many weeks, texting instead of calling, which was unusual enough on its own that I noticed it before I even read the actual message.I found him in his study anyway, unable to shake the small, nagging worry that had been building since his first cancellation. He looked up when I knocked, and something about the effort it seemed to take him to focus properly on my face registered somewhere in the back of my mind before I could name exactly what felt wrong about it."You didn't have to come by," he said, setting down whatever he'd been reading. "I told you, I'm just tired. Council season catches up to everyone eventually.""You've said that for three weeks running now.""Because it's been true for three weeks running. I'm getting older, Harlan. Older men get tired more easily. It's not a mystery requiring investigation." He waved a hand, dismissive in a way that usually would have ended the convers

Trixie's POVMy father-in-law came home from the clinic four days later, weaker than the man who'd walked into his study that afternoon but stubbornly insistent on recovering in his own bed instead of a hospital room that made him feel, in his own words, "like a patient instead of a person." My wolf stayed unsettled the entire drive back to the estate, some low, persistent unease refusing to fully release even once the doctors confirmed he was stable enough to travel.Dr. Reyes visited daily that first week, adjusting medications and monitoring vitals with the careful attention of someone determined to buy every possible extra day, and slowly, cautiously, he began stabilizing into something the whole household could almost, tentatively, call improvement.I found myself at the estate most afternoons, not because anyone asked me to be there but because staying away felt unthinkable, helping Harlan's father's household staff with meals, sitting with him during the long, quiet hours when

Trixie's POVThe pack buried its Alpha three days later, on a morning so clear and ordinary it felt like a small betrayal, like the sky hadn't gotten the message about what the day was actually supposed to hold.I'd never attended a shifter funeral before. Nobody had fully prepared me for what it looked like, hundreds of pack members gathered on the estate grounds in near total silence, respect carried in stillness rather than words, the kind of quiet that pressed against my chest until breathing itself felt like an effort.Harlan stood at the front through the entire ceremony, spine straight, expression composed in a way I recognized as costing him everything he had left to spend. I stood beside him because I couldn't imagine standing anywhere else, my hand in his the only visible thread keeping him upright as speaker after speaker rose to share what the man had meant to them.Dr. Reyes spoke of his stubbornness, gentle and rueful, the kind of story that pulled a wet laugh out of the

Trixie's POVHarlan's phone rang again during dinner, the third time that week, and I watched him glance at the screen before excusing himself to the hallway with the same practiced apology he'd been offering for two weeks straight."Sorry. It's Rowan. I should probably take this.""Of course." I kept my voice light, spearing a piece of chicken I no longer had much appetite for. "Go ahead."I told myself it was nothing, the way I'd been telling myself it was nothing for two weeks now. Two Alphas, similar circumstances, genuinely useful conversations about council politics and pack logistics neither of us could offer him from the outside looking in. It made sense. It was reasonable. I believed every word of that reasoning right up until I didn't, some quieter, less generous part of me keeping careful count of every call, every text, every evening Harlan disappeared into a conversation I had no real place inside.It wasn't jealousy, exactly, or at least I didn't want to name it that so