Chapter 147

Kane's POV

Getting home was torture. Every damn mile reminded me of the mess I'd made with Aurora. Part of me wanted to whip my car around and grovel at her feet.

But I couldn't. Not yet.

First, I had to prove I deserved another shot.

My territory looked like complete hell when I finally arrived. Months of neglect hit me in the face like a cold slap. Paint peeled off the pack house walls in long, ugly strips. Last month's storms had busted out half our windows. Plywood patches covered the holes like ugly scars. I felt sick looking at the damage.

Unfinished construction projects dotted the landscape. Training grounds? Weeds had taken over everything. Our walls were falling apart—missing chunks here, deep cracks there. My people deserved a hell of a lot better than this mess.

"Alpha Kane!" Council member Jackson Thornfield jogged up to my car. The relief on his face was obvious—like he'd been drowning and I was the life preserver. "Thank the Moon Goddess you're back. We've got a mountain of problems that need your attention."

His voice carried this edge that made my gut drop like a stone. How many disasters had I left to rot while I drowned in self-pity?

I dragged my advisors into emergency meetings the second I walked through those doors. Time to face whatever ugly truth I'd been avoiding.

The conference room stank of tension when my leadership team filed in. My advisors shuffled in looking like they were heading to their own execution. Professional masks in place, sure, but I saw the tension. Months of frustration showed in their rigid postures.

"I've been a complete failure as your Alpha," I told them flat out. No sugar-coating, no fancy excuses. The truth tasted bitter as burnt coffee.

Silence. Dead, uncomfortable silence.

These people had cleaned up my messes for months. Made excuses when I vanished. Kept everything running while I drowned in bottles and self-pity. Their loyalty was a gift I'd never earned.

Elder Hartwell cleared his throat. Bad news was coming—I could tell. He'd watched me grow up, served my family for decades. That earned him the right to tell me hard truths.

"We've heard this tune before, son." Not mean, but firm as granite. "After your folks died. Before you left to serve the Alpha King, in your time away, you were supposed to mature into the Alpha this territory needed. But this seems like more of the same from you, Kane. What makes this time any different?"

Fair question. Brutally honest, but fair.

I'd made identical promises during other brief moments of clarity, usually when guilt got too heavy to carry. Then I'd dive back into the bottle within a few weeks, leaving everyone else to sweep up the pieces.

"Because now I finally get what I'm fighting for." I forced myself to look each one of them in the eye. "Not some abstract duty I inherited. Not obligation or tradition. Something real. Someone worth becoming better for."

Jackson sat up straighter. Hope and doubt fought for control of his face. "Someone special?"

"Her name's Aurora." Simple as breathing. "She's worth becoming the Alpha you all deserve."

Over the next few days, I attacked our problems like I was planning a military siege. Every missed meeting, every delayed decision, every ignored crisis—I tackled them all with laser focus that surprised even me.

Regular council meetings went on the calendar with military precision. Transparent decision-making. No more advisors having to hunt me down between hangovers or track me to whatever bar I'd chosen that week.

"Tuesdays and Fridays at nine sharp." I announced it like a battle plan. "Comprehensive reports on everything affecting our territory. Status updates, ongoing projects, problems that need Alpha-level decisions."

But the biggest shock to everyone? When pack members invited me to parties, when advisors suggested we "blow off steam" after tough sessions, when well-meaning friends offered drinks to "take the edge off"—my answer stayed rock solid.

"I don't drink anymore. Period."

Word spread through the pack faster than wildfire. Kane Stone, the Alpha who used to party until dawn and stumble into morning meetings reeking of whiskey and regret, was stone cold sober at every single function.

"You feeling sick or something, Alpha?" Elizabeth asked when I turned down wine at a celebration dinner. She organized most of our social events—always trying to get everyone together for one party or another.

"Never felt clearer in my life," I told her, raising my water glass instead of reaching for alcohol.

Women who used to catch my wandering eye found themselves politely but firmly shut down. When Jasmine cornered me after a territory meeting with that suggestive smile I used to welcome, I ended it gently but completely.

"Not interested, Jasmine." Gentle but absolute. "Actually, I'm completely off the market for good."

"Since when?" She looked genuinely shocked by this personality transplant.

"Since I realized I want to be worthy of someone extraordinary."

My military background finally started serving my own people instead of just impressing outsiders at political functions. Training programs got completely rebuilt with systematic precision. Defense improvements reflected tactical knowledge I'd gained serving the Alpha King. I worked personally with struggling pack members, showing patience and real care instead of the distant authority I'd maintained before.

"Alpha Kane," young Thomas stammered during one council session, clearly terrified about speaking up to a leader known for explosive moods. "That bridge over Miller's Creek is getting dangerous. My grandmother nearly fell through a rotten plank last week."

Old me would've muttered "I'll look into it" and forgotten by tomorrow.

New me stood up immediately. "Let's go look at it right now. We'll figure out what needs doing."

Thomas looked stunned. Quick action from his Alpha? That was new.

Three weeks into my reform campaign, visible changes bloomed throughout our territory. A sturdy new bridge spanned Miller's Creek. Fresh paint brightened buildings that had looked shabby for months. Expanded training grounds boasted proper equipment that reflected my military expertise.

My advisors watched with growing amazement as I proved commitment through daily actions instead of empty promises they'd grown tired of hearing.

"This transformation is incredible, Alpha," Jackson admitted during one evening briefing, genuine wonder in his usually cautious voice. "Haven't seen pack morale this high since before your parents died."

"They're responding to consistency and real care." I corrected him firmly. "To finally feeling like their Alpha gives a damn about their daily welfare instead of just going through the motions."

The improvements weren't just cosmetic. I was sleeping again—really sleeping. Woke up excited about facing challenges instead of dreading whatever crisis waited. Sobriety and renewed purpose had given me back something precious I'd thought was lost forever—genuine pride in my role as Alpha.

During one productive council meeting several weeks later, Advisor Patterson brought up a concern that made my pulse quicken. "Alpha, we should discuss succession planning soon. Pack elders keep asking pointed questions about finding you a suitable Luna for long-term stability."

I grinned. First real smile they'd seen from me in ages. "That might resolve itself pretty soon."

"Really now?" Jackson raised an eyebrow. "Should we start planning something special?"

"I'm hopeful," I said. My mind was already working on a letter I needed to write.

Later that night, I stared at a blank piece of paper for what felt like hours. How do you prove you've changed to someone you've already hurt?

Aurora,

I hope this finds you well and that Blood Moon's rebuilding is going smoothly.. I wanted you to know I've kept my promises about changing—not to win you back, but because my pack deserved better than the mess I'd become.

Would you come see what I've done here? I want to show you the changes and talk about us—if there's still an 'us' to discuss.

I'm not the coward who hurt you anymore. I'm ready to fight for what matters—for you.

With hope and devotion, Kane

I sealed the letter before I could second-guess my words, then called for my fastest messenger.

"Take this straight to Luna Aurora at Blood Moon territory." Military precision in every word. "Take this straight to her. Wait around in case she wants to send something back."

I watched him disappear down the road.

My pack finally had the leader they deserved.

Now I could only pray Aurora would give me the chance to prove I could be the partner she deserved too.