Erald stared at the ssage.
Strike one. Ga on.
Her blood turned cold.
There was no signature. No contact. Just those four words from an unlisted number.
She didn’t need to see a na to know who it was. The silence in the letter made her stomach churn with worry. The person who hired the assassin was still out there, and they were watching.
Watching her.
"Coward," she muttered under her breath, locking the phone and tossing it onto the desk.
Viola stirred. They’re taunting us.
"Let them." Erald’s mind hissed back. "I’ll find them. I’ll make them wish they never tried."
She stared at the phone a mont longer, then made a decision.
No one would know... not yet. Not Darius, not Nessa, not even her mates. Things were chaotic enough already. She planned to narrow down the suspects during the ergency eting tonight. No more waiting. No more hiding behind titles or politics.
—
Just after sunset, Erald stood in front of the full-length mirror in her room, adjusting the sleeves of her dress.
It was a fitted white gown that was striking and classy, trailing on the floor as she moved.
The dress was elegant yet had an edge, sleeveless with a low back and a high slit that made a statent. Neither too revealing nor too modest, it struck the right balance between being bold and alluring.
Her hair was swept back into a ponytail, her lips tinted with soft crimson. No crown. No armour. Just power wrapped in silk.
She smiled faintly to herself.
If they wanted a weak female Alpha, they were going to be very disappointed.
Viola purred approvingly. "Now that’s more like it."
—
The grand hall of the estate had been transford into a council chamber. The high-arched ceilings were decorated with lanterns and tiny lights. Guards stood watch along the walls.
In the middle of the room, a large obsidian table was already bustling with the pack staff, putting things in order.
Her mates were the first to arrive.
Kieran was standing at the far end of the room, looking calm and mysterious as usual. Lucian stayed in the shadows with his arms crossed, his sharp silver eyes carefully observing everything around him.
And then there was Adrien... gods. Adrian looked like he owned the place, sprawled casually in one of the black chairs, his leather jacket half open and a full-on devil smirk on his face.
Their eyes snapped to her the mont she entered.
And none of them looked away.
Erald t each of their gazes without flinching. "Alphas," she greeted smoothly.
Lucian’s voice was the first to cut through the crowd. "You’re not supposed to be beautiful and dangerous at the sa ti. It’s distracting."
Adrien stood, tilting his head. "You trying to kill us before the eting starts?"
Kieran simply gave a subtle nod, the faintest smile tugging at his lips. "You look powerful."
Erald’s lips curved. "Good."
Adrien stepped closer. "Any word on your mystery assassin?"
"Not until the eting is in full swing," she said, her tone final. "I’ll speak once the rest have arrived."
Lucian’s brows drew together. "Erald—"
She raised a hand. "Later."
The others trickled in slowly, council mbers, estate officials, and emissaries from allied packs. Even a few rogue diplomats under truce banners. Every eye drifted to Erald as she took her seat at the head of the table.
The room quieted.
Erald stood. "Thank you all for coming. I won’t waste your ti."
She let the silence hold for a mont before continuing. "There has been an attempt on my life in the last few days. The assassin responsible was found dead days after his escape within the estate walls, murdered before he could speak."
A few murmurs broke out.
Erald raised her voice. "Tonight’s eting isn’t just about the attack. It’s about determining whether the threat is internal. And whether we are being infiltrated."
Most listened respectfully.
So didn’t.
"It’s easy to overreact when fear is fresh," muttered one councilwoman. "But if the assassin is dead, why are we here?"
"We’re here," Erald said coolly, "because we still don’t know who sent him."
Another man, older, leaned forward. "Perhaps it’s ti to consider that there is no greater conspiracy. Rogues are unpredictable. You’re a new Alpha. The first female Alpha of a major house. You represent a threat to a lot of... traditional values."
"You think I was attacked out of tradition?" Erald asked.
He shrugged. "If the assassin is dead, the threat may have died with him."
Erald’s smile was ice. "Thank you for your insight, Councilman...?"
"Havel. Councilman Havel," she repeated, her eyes flicking to Darius, who gave a barely perceptible nod. He’d seen it too.
Kieran shifted in his seat.
Adrien scowled.
Lucian’s eyes narrowed.
Adrien leaned forward, drumming his fingers on the table. "So we’re just supposed to sit here while so of you claim the threat magically resolved itself? Speaking like her life wasn’t nearly taken? That’s rich."
"We’re not questioning her right to live," soone muttered.
Kieran stood. "Then what are you questioning?"
"Her right to lead?" Lucian cut in. "You think it’s coincidence that a prisoner dies before interrogation? You think this is just a one-off?"
Several mbers shifted uncomfortably.
Kieran’s voice remained calm but firm. "Erald is Alpha. She holds the seat of command. You will treat her with the respect that title demands."
"She’s a woman," soone muttered. "We’ve never had..."
The room darkened almost imdiately as Lucien, Kieran and Adrien let out their alpha aura at the sa ti.
Erald stood up. "That’s enough."
But her three mates didn’t seem to care about those two words.
And then... Erald’s alpha power rippled out of her like a shockwave. Chairs scraped back, and a few weaker mbers recoiled instinctively.
"Anyone who doubts my strength," she said calmly, her voice thrumming with raw power, "may challenge right here. Right now."
Silence.
"I don’t care what you believe about tradition. Or gender. Or how many mates the Moon Goddess chose for ," she continued. "I am Alpha of the Western Shadow Fang. I was born of Alpha blood. I earned this place. And I’ll keep it with or without your approval."
Nobody moved.
Erald’s voice softened. "If you cannot stand behind , then stand aside."
Another long silence.
Then slow, hesitant nods.
No one responded.
"Now," she added softly, every trace of her outburst seconds ago gone. "Thank you for your cooperation."
She turned without dismissing them.
That was intentional.
Let them scramble to decide if the eting was over.
She was done.
—
Outside, the evening air was cool, scented with pine and the lingering echo of lightning from her aura. Erald stood at the edge of the stone railing, far from the noise inside. She pulled out her phone and stared at the ssage again.
Strike one. Ga on.
It felt threatening. It wasn’t just a warning; it was a promise.
"You’re not planning to jump, are you?"
Erald turned to find Kieran approaching, hands in his coat pockets and a subtle smirk playing on his lips.
"Depends on what’s waiting at the bottom," she said dryly.
He stopped beside her. "That bad?"
She gave him a brief glance. "I’m fine."
"You’ve said that a lot lately," he murmured. "I’m starting to think it’s code for I’m carrying the weight of the world and pretending not to break."
Erald didn’t reply.
Kieran studied her profile. "Why’d you really call the eting?"
She turned her gaze back to the forest. "You were there. I told them. A threat."
"Yeah," he said slowly. "But I think you were fishing."
Her eyes flicked to his.
"You wanted to watch them squirm," Kieran said. "See who flinched. Who panicked. You were looking for a traitor."
Erald blinked once, then looked away. "You always were too perceptive."
"Too late," he replied with a faint smile. "I already noticed."
Before she could reply, sothing caught her attention: a shadow darted quickly through the courtyard trees.
Kieran’s head snapped around. "What is it?"
Erald’s entire body went rigid. "Stay here."
"Erald—"
But she was already on the move, her eyes focused on the flickering movent in the darkness.
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