Inside the Alpha’s office, the air felt heavier than usual—thick with old power, polished wood, and the unspoken hierarchy every wolf understood the moment they crossed the threshold.
By right, Talon, the Alpha King, could have taken Asher’s seat.
The massive desk at the center of the room was a symbol of command, authority, and dominion—crafted for the ruling Alpha of the pack. Any other Alpha would have claimed it without hesitation, asserting dominance through position alone. But Talon had never been that kind of Alpha King.
Instead, he remained standing for a moment near the window, hands clasped behind his back, gaze fixed on the distant tree line beyond the glass. Moonlight filtered in faintly, casting silver edges along his broad shoulders. When he finally turned, he chose one of the chairs across from the desk—not because it was offered, but because he did not need symbols to be obeyed.
As long as the Alpha he was dealing with respected him, the seat did not matter. His aura alone filled the room.
Power rolled off him in slow, controlled waves—ancient, disciplined, and lethal. It pressed into the walls, into the floor, into the wolves standing guard outside the office. Every pack member within range knew the truth without needing to be told.
The most powerful Alpha in the room was not the one behind the desk.
It was Talon.
Asher remained standing behind his desk, posture rigid, shoulders squared. He had faced many threats as Alpha, but standing before the Alpha King always awakened something primal—a reminder of where he stood in the grand order of wolves.
Talon’s sharp eyes finally settled on him.
“Now,” Talon said calmly, his voice low but commanding, “tell me what happened with the rogue attack.”
“We were attacked in the middle of the night along our northern border,” Asher inhaled once, steadying himself. “The sentries raised the alarm quickly. Our warriors intercepted the rogues before they could push deeper into pack territory. If they hadn’t—” He paused briefly. “We would have suffered far more casualties.”
“How many?” Talon asked.
“We lost two pack members,” Asher said quietly.
The temperature in the room seemed to drop.
Talon’s eyes narrowed—just a fraction, but it was enough to make even seasoned warriors uneasy.
'Pack members?' Enzo’s voice slipped into Talon’s mind through their link, sharp with disbelief. 'How did that happen? The pack protocol is clear. All non-warriors go straight to the bunker the moment the alarm or pack-wide mind link is issued.'
Talon didn’t respond immediately, but his silence was deliberate. He leaned back slightly in his chair, fingers resting loosely on the armrest, gaze never leaving Asher.
“Where were these two members attacked?” Talon asked. “And why were they not inside the bunker?”
Asher hesitated—not long enough to be obvious, but long enough for Talon to notice.
“They lived near our southern border,” Asher said. “Luna Hazel sent a pack-wide mind link as soon as the attack was confirmed. All members were instructed to go to the bunker immediately.”
“And they didn’t,” Talon said flatly.
“No,” Asher replied. “We don’t know why. They were later found in the forest. Our assumption is that they went out for a run before the attack… or possibly didn’t hear the urgency of the message in time.”
Talon’s gaze sharpened.
“They were mates,” Asher added. “A bonded pair.”
Silence followed.
Not the comfortable kind, but the kind that stretched too long, heavy with thought and unspoken judgment.
Talon said nothing. His expression remained neutral, unreadable, but his mind was already turning the details over with precision. Two casualties only. Both pack members. Both ignoring a direct pack-wide mind link. Both found in the forest instead of shelter.
Too clean.
Too convenient.
Every pack member—every single one knew the rules. When a command came from their Alpha or Luna during an attack, it was not optional. Instinct alone drove them to obey. Disobedience in moments like that was almost unheard of.
And mates?
Mates did not separate. They did not wander blindly into danger when ordered to take shelter.
“All pack members know to follow instructions issued by their leaders,” Talon finally straightened in his chair, and he said evenly. “Especially during an active threat.”
His eyes locked onto Asher’s, sharp and unyielding.
“This is not something I will overlook.” The words were calm, but beneath them was a warning.
Talon had heard the report, and he was not convinced.
“I understand, Alpha King,” Asher said carefully, choosing his words with precision. “But we conducted a full investigation. We had to.”
Talon’s gaze remained steady, unblinking.
“Their daughter demanded answers,” Asher continued. “She deserved at least that much. We questioned the sentries, reviewed the patrol logs, and retraced the timeline of the attack. Every single pack member confirmed the same thing—Luna Hazel’s pack-wide mind link was heard clearly. The order was unmistakable. Everyone was instructed to go to the bunker immediately.”
Asher exhaled slowly. “And they did.”
“All of them?” Talon asked.
“Yes,” Asher said. “Every member accounted for—except the two who died.”
The silence that followed was thick, pressing.
“We searched for any sign of coercion,” Asher went on. “A struggle. Rogue scent. Unusual energy. Anything that could explain why they were in the forest instead of sheltering. But there was nothing. No suspicious traces. No evidence of outside influence.” His jaw tightened. “The only conclusion we could come to was that they chose to disobey orders.”
Talon’s eyes darkened—not with anger, but with calculation.
“Their daughter wanted answers?” he asked quietly. “Explain.”
Asher nodded once. “Diana. She was a warrior. When she learned her parents were among the dead, she demanded to know why they weren’t in the bunker.”
“Was?” Talon repeated, his tone sharpening just slightly.
“Yes,” Asher said. “She resigned from her position as a warrior shortly after.”
That earned Talon’s full attention.
Resignation was rare, especially from warriors forged by discipline, loyalty, and duty. Rarer still were those who had lost family in an attack. Most sought vengeance. Purpose. Not withdrawal.
Enzo’s voice slipped into Talon’s mind, quiet but alert. 'Did the daughter know something the Alpha doesn’t? Or is she simply suspicious—searching for meaning where there is none?'
Talon did not answer immediately. His gaze drifted briefly toward the window again, toward the forest where the bodies had been found. Moonlight brushed against his sharp features, highlighting the stillness of a predator deep in thought.
Finally, his voice returned—this time through the link.
'We wouldn’t know,' Talon replied. 'And Asher is correct in one regard. We cannot question the dead.'
He shifted slightly in his chair, power rolling outward—not aggressively, but with quiet authority.
'If every pack member heard the mind link, and every other member obeyed it,' Talon continued, 'then logic dictates only one conclusion.'
His eyes returned to Asher.
“The only reason they would be in the forest,” Talon said aloud, “is because they disobeyed a direct order from their Luna.”
The words landed heavily.
Disobedience during an attack was not just reckless. It was unthinkable.
And yet…
Talon’s instincts remained unsettled.
Too many things aligned too neatly. Too many explanations ended with we don’t know. Too many answers relied on the silence of the dead.
He did not accuse.
Not yet.
But deep within him, the Alpha King marked the name Diana and the circumstances surrounding her parents’ deaths as something that warranted remembering. Because in Talon’s experience, the truth rarely revealed itself all at once.
And when something felt too simple…
It never was.
“Alpha,” Enzo said carefully, his tone measured as his sharp eyes swept the chamber before settling back on Talon, “I believe we can set aside the matter of the attack that happened months ago—for now. We are not here to reopen old wounds.” He paused, letting the silence stretch just long enough to emphasize his next words. “We are here to help you find your mate.”
The word mate struck like a thunderclap.
Talon’s breath hitched—barely perceptible, but inside him, everything exploded.
Fenrir surged to life, awakening with feral intensity, his presence crashing against Talon’s mind like a tidal wave.
Mate.
The instinct was immediate. Violent. All-consuming.
'Yes,' Fenrir growled, rising to his full, massive presence. 'Rogues are nothing. Old attacks are nothing. None of it matters.'
Talon kept his face carefully neutral, though his pulse thundered in his ears.
'What matters is mate,' Fenrir continued, pacing restlessly within his mind, senses flaring outward. 'She had not been inside the pack house. As soon as we entered, her scent faded. I cannot smell her.'
His agitation sharpened, turning to irritation—then disgust.
'All I smell is that pretentious Luna,' Fenrir snarled. 'Perfumed lies. Hunger masked as grace. Her scent is wrong—sour beneath the sweetness.'
Talon clenched his jaw.
'We need to go,' Fenrir insisted. 'Now. Leave this pack. Search. Find her. Protect her.'
'We cannot simply walk through another pack’s territory like predators,' Talon responded instantly, his voice firm within their shared consciousness. 'This is not our land.'
Fenrir bristled. 'We are the Alpha King.'
'And still bound by law,' Talon countered. 'Hierarchy exists for a reason. Even kings must respect borders. If we destabilize this pack—'
'I do not care,' Fenrir snapped viciously. 'I care about mate. She is unclaimed. Vulnerable. Every second we waste puts her at risk.'
Talon exhaled slowly, forcing patience into his thoughts.
'And that is exactly why we must be cautious,' he replied. 'Power used recklessly creates chaos. Chaos creates enemies.'
Fenrir’s growl rumbled deep and low, vibrating through Talon’s bones.
'Then we will take her away from here,' Fenrir pressed. 'Bring her to our lands. We just need to search until we find her—then mate. Then protect.'
Talon closed his eyes for a fleeting heartbeat.
'We will find her,' he said, his tone steady, commanding. 'But not like this.'
Fenrir stilled, listening.
'The ball will gather wolves from every corner of this territory,' Talon continued. 'Unmated. I am sure she will be one of them. She is within this pack. We smelled her earlier, although it was faint. But I am sure that is just, she has not been near the pack house.'
There was a long, tense pause. Fenrir’s frustration simmered, but slowly—reluctantly—it settled.
'Be patient,' Talon added. 'Just a little longer.'
The silence between them tightened, coiled with restrained instinct and anticipation.
Talon lifted his gaze, fully present once more. He looked first at Enzo, who watched him closely, perceptive enough to sense the storm Talon kept locked behind calm eyes. Then his attention shifted to Asher, standing tall and composed, though his shoulders were tense—as if he could feel the weight of Talon’s authority pressing against the room.
“Very well,” Talon said aloud, his voice smooth, regal, unquestionable. “We will set all other matters aside for now.”
He straightened slightly before speaking again. “Can someone lead us to a room we may use?” Talon asked Asher. “We will require privacy. And need to prepare for the party later.”
“Of course, Alpha,” Asher responded immediately. His eyes blurred for a brief second—a clear sign of a mind link reaching outward, summoning someone within the pack. When his focus returned, his expression remained respectful, controlled.
“Someone will escort you shortly,” he added.
Talon inclined his head once in acknowledgment. Inside him, Fenrir stirred again—not with rage this time, but with a low, restless anticipation.
'She is close,' Fenrir murmured. 'I can feel the pull beginning.'
Talon said nothing, but his chest tightened.
The ball was no longer a formality or a false pretense.
It was destiny waiting to reveal itself.
Aksara