Chapter 50

The council chamber reeked of fear disguised as protocol.

It always smelled faintly of parchment and polished stone, but this morning there was something sour under the incense. There was a tremor of adrenaline masked as decorum. Sunlight lanced through the tall stained-glass windows of the Blood Moon Pack’s palace, but even the light felt brittle, cold, as though it feared to touch what was about to happen. My seat at the head of the long stone table loomed like a throne carved out of ice. Below it, the elders shifted in their robes, murmuring like restless crows.

Norman prowled just under my skin, tail lashing. They’ve been circling all week. Today they’ll strike.

I drummed my fingers once on the armrest. The sound cut through the murmur like a blade and the chamber fell silent.

“You called this session,” I said. “Speak.”

Elder Tully, the oldest and the boldest, leaned on his carved cane and stepped forward. His voice was soft but carrying, honed from decades of giving orders no one dared disobey.

“Alpha Nicholas,” he said, “we must address the matter of the outsider doctor.”

A ripple moved through the other elders: satisfaction, anticipation. Amanda’s doing, no doubt. She sat at the far end of the table like a crimson flame, eyes lowered demurely while she drank in the tension she’d sown.

Tully continued, “This woman, Esthe, has overstepped every boundary of decorum. Her presence here has sown gossip in the palace, destabilized your alliances, and invited scandal into our house. She has seduced the loyalty of your soldiers with her displays, and now the public treats her as a Luna in all but name.”

A murmur of “hear, hear” swept the table. Some elders glanced nervously at me, but most nodded, eager to show they belonged to the winning side.

I kept my face neutral.

Inside, Norman growled. They’re going to demand it. Wait for it.

Tully raised his chin. “We elders therefore urge you, strongly, to dismiss her from her post and from your territory. Send her back to Blue Lake Pack before more harm befalls us.”

There it was.

For a long moment I said nothing. The only sound was the whisper of silk as Amanda crossed one leg over the other. Her crimson dress caught the light like a drop of blood. She’d orchestrated this well: the smear campaigns, the whisper networks, the staged “concern” for my reputation all had led to this showdown.

Norman’s voice curled through my mind like smoke. They’re using you. Testing you. If you bend now, you lose her and you lose the pack’s respect.

I tapped the table once. “Do you all agree with this recommendation?”

The elders exchanged glances. A few hesitated, but Tully’s eyes pinned them like insects. One by one, heads nodded.

I leaned back. “Interesting.”

Amanda spoke then, her tone honey over knives. “Alpha, no one doubts Doctor Esther’s medical talents. But the palace is… unsettled. People whisper. They remember the… unfortunate rumors about Princess Emily. For your sake, perhaps a graceful dismissal—”

I raised a hand. Silence dropped like a curtain.

Norman prowled. Do it. Show them who rules here.

I rose slowly from my chair.

“Elder Tully,” I said.

He blinked, thrown off by my direct address. “Alpha?”

“You’ve served this council for thirty years.”

“Yes.” His chin lifted. “And I speak for the good of the pack—”

“—and yet you stand here, in my hall, accusing a healer who saved my guards’ lives of destabilizing our pack. You demand that I cast her out after she bled for my people.”

A flicker of unease crossed his face. “Alpha, it is not personal. It is a question of propriety—”

I stepped down from the dais, each footfall echoing in the vaulted chamber. “No. It is a question of power.”

The chamber went still. Even the sunlight seemed to retreat from the stained glass.

I circled the table slowly, my gaze sliding over the other elders until it landed back on Tully.

“You presume,” I said softly, “that your council can dictate whom I keep under my protection. You presume to override my judgment.”

“Alpha Nicholas—”

“Silence.” The word cracked like a whip.

Tully shut his mouth.

I let the silence stretch. The guards along the wall straightened unconsciously, their eyes glittering with the thrill of watching a predator bare its teeth.

Then, without raising my voice, I pronounced, “Elder Tully, you are removed from the council, effective immediately.”

Gasps exploded around the room. A junior elder dropped his stylus; the clatter echoed like a gunshot. Amanda’s head snapped up, eyes wide.

Tully sputtered. “You cannot—”

“I can.” My tone stayed calm, almost gentle, and that gentleness was more terrifying than a roar. “You overstepped your authority, undermined a critical healer, and fomented dissent during a rogue attack. You’re done.”

Two guards stepped forward at my nod. Tully’s face purpled but he didn’t resist as they took his arms.

“Alpha, please—”

I leaned close enough that only he could hear. “Your power ends at my threshold. Leave while you still have your title outside these walls.”

He swallowed hard and let himself be led out.

The other elders stared at me as if I’d turned into a beast in front of them. Amanda’s carefully painted lips parted but no sound emerged. I could smell her nervousness now, sweet and acrid beneath her perfume.

I returned to my seat, every motion controlled. “Does anyone else wish to question my judgment?”

A rustle of “no, Alpha” rose like leaves in a gale.

Norman rumbled, satisfied. At last you show your teeth. We protect our mate. We protect our pack.

She’s not our mate, I shot back. She’s—

Norman only laughed, low and knowing.

I glanced at Amanda. “Since Doctor Esther’s competence seems to trouble you so deeply, perhaps you’d like to volunteer for the poison-testing regimen next time?”

Her knuckles whitened on the table edge. “Of course not, Alpha.”

“Then we’re done here.”

The chamber emptied in a daze of hushed whispers. News of Tully’s removal would blaze across the palace within the hour. I could already imagine the tremor in the gossip: the Alpha King had chosen his healer over his elders, had cast out a man who’d advised his father.

When the last elder had gone, I let my posture slump a fraction. Norman’s presence was still hot in my veins, thrilled by the public display of dominance. But under it was another feeling: a strange lightness, as though some knot had loosened.

I’d defended her openly. I hadn’t planned it—it had been instinct, anger at their ingratitude—but the fact remained. The whole palace had seen me choose her over them.

Strategy, I told myself. It’s all strategy.

Norman purred. Keep lying if you like. We know why we did it.

Down the side corridor, movement flickered. I turned my head sharply.

Esther stood half-hidden in the archway beyond the council hall, still in her healer’s coat. Her hands were tucked into the pockets but I saw the tension in her shoulders, the guarded tilt of her chin.

She’d watched the whole thing.

For a heartbeat our eyes met. Hers were unreadable. I saw no gratitude, no accusation, just a quiet measuring, as if she were testing the edges of a blade.

Then she turned and slipped away before I could speak.

Norman stirred. She saw. She knows you defended her.

“She thinks it’s strategy,” I muttered. “She’s not wrong.”

But it was loyalty too.

I didn’t answer.

Later, alone in my private quarters, I poured myself a drink I didn’t need. My hands were steady but the image of her in the archway kept replaying.

I’d thrown away an elder today. A man who’d advised me since my father’s reign. And for what? For a healer who barely tolerated me, who still kept her secrets locked behind trembling lips.

Yet when they had tried to tear her down, something primal had risen in me.

Mate, Norman whispered.

I drained the glass and stared out at the moonlit courtyard.

Down below, the palace buzzed with rumors. Guards whispered that their Alpha had finally chosen sides, that the healer was untouchable now. Some called it devotion, some called it folly.

I wondered which it was.

I wondered if even Esther knew.