The noise from the crowd is a distant hum, irrelevant in the face of the relief and freedom working themselves through my bloodstream. The McNamara wolves are seething, and a handful of my own people are brave enough—or foolish enough—to let their dissent show. I catalog their faces automatically, the way a soldier notes the positions of enemies on a battlefield, and add them to my mental list.
Behind the bars of Amara’s wind cage, Cathal McNamara rages like a rabid animal. His fat hands pound at the invisible barrier and his mouth moves in a fury I can’t hear over the hush of whirling air. The witch’s spell holds steady.
I’d expected nothing less from Cathal, had anticipated this kind of reaction. That’s why I went to the coven cabin this morning with Canaan, knowing Amara owed me nothing, and asked her to help me anchor my plan anyway.
I had other safeguards in place even without the coven, contingency plans woven into the day. But I wanted more. I wanted certainty. Only the coven could give me that.
Amara had studied me like I was something beneath the heel of her Italian leather boot.“If I help you,”she told me, calm as a knife.“And you ever hurt our Noa again, they won’t recognize your body when I’m done with you, Alpha.”I agreed before she finished the threat. Told her I would stand there, arms spread wide and chest exposed, and let her do her worst before I willingly risked Noa’s heart again. Whatever she saw on my face seemed to make her believe me.
Now, seeing the barrier holding strong while Cathal and his strongest enforcers rage inside it, I know coming to her was the right call. Trapped and silenced, he can’t interfere or object.
I find Noa through the crowd. Just a glance to ensure she’s still with me. She’s where she’s been from the start—between Seren and Siggy, hands tangled with theirs, eyes wide and unblinking. The longer she’s been here, the paler she’s grown, her sickness settling into the hollows of her cheeks, but now shock has also carved itself into every line of her body.But there’s something under it, quiet, fragile, and too kind for what I deserve. Forgiveness. Or something close to it.
I look back to the crowd. The noise swells again, a low murmur of argument and confusion. Wolves pushing boundaries they have no right to shove against. I let it build for another moment, allow it to grow to a fever pitch and then?—
“Enough!”
The bark leaves my chest like a lightning strike. And with it, I allow the full weight of my dominance, the one I keep on a tight leash, bleed through the lodge. It spreads slow and heavy, like inky, damp fog. The effect is immediate. The air thickens. Wolves from both packs flinch. Heads turn, necks are shown, and shoulders cave in on themselves. For the weaker ones, kneesbend, and they fall to the floor. A few of the stronger ones, too brazen for their own good, hold my gaze for a heartbeat too long before the pressure in their skull finally forces them to bend too.
I’ve never wanted to lead through fear. My father did that, ruling by intimidation and calling it loyalty. I’ve spent years making sure I don’t become him. But there are moments when you need to remind your pack who you are, and that you don’t answer to anyone. Today is one of them.
Even through Amara’s barrier, Cathal feels it. The pressure, the shift. The flick of panic in his irises give him away before anything else does. He tries to stand his ground, jaw tight, pride coiled, but he’s drowning like the rest of them. My lips curl, an easy smirk falling into place. He needs to see that I’m not straining to hold this room under my thumb. Needs to know he’s always been outmatched and whatever control he believed he had over me was an illusion I let him keep. The last bits of that illusion shatter now.
It only takes a few more seconds before he cracks. The fight leaves him in such a rush, and his whole frame stumbles as his head turns. He shows me his throat. The entire room witnesses it…the mighty Cathal McNamara forced to bow. Satisfaction rises, sharp and clean, like a fresh kill, but it doesn’t last long.
My wolf’s warning hits like ice in my veins.
Noa.
My head snaps toward her. She still stands between Siggy and Seren, all three of them shaking, three small bodies bracing against a weight they were never built to bear. They’re only seconds away from falling to their knees. Omegas feel this kind of power differently. It wraps around them, pressing in until it’s suffocating. And I didn’t stop to consider that before I let mine go this far.
Guilt slams into me. I pull back, drawing my dominance in until the pressure eases, until the tightness in the room loosens enough that they can breathe without having to fight for it.
Noa’s chest rises on a long breath. Her chin lifts. Our eyes lock.
My world settles under her attention.
I want to go to her. I want to close the distance, pull her in, and press my mouth to her temple until that gray pallor leaves her skin under my affection. But I can’t. Not yet.
Not until I finish what I came here to do.
Hold on, baby, just a little while longer.I send the thought into the space between us, hoping it finds its way to her.
I face the room again.
Every pair of eyes is still fixed on me, suspended somewhere between horror and awe. And maybe it’s twisted, but I find that more appropriate than the empty spectacle they came for. They wanted a display of control, of alliance, of me chained to the McNamaras. What they got was the sound of that chain snapping.
“If it wasn’t clear already,” I start, letting my voice carry, steady and unhurried, as I sweep the room with my gaze. “The alliance between Pack Fallamhain and Pack McNamara ends here. Effective immediately. There will be no cooperation. No betrothal. No shared interest to defend. From this point forward, we stand on our own.”
The declaration feels good. Relieving. Like setting a bone that has been broken for too long.
“We don’t need them,” I continue. “As of yesterday, the Craddock Pack is no longer a guest within my territory—they’re Fallamhain wolves now. Their bravery, their blood, their strength not only belong here, but are welcome. With the Ashvale Coven standing beside us too, we can protect our borders and people ourselves. Outside interference thatmasquerades as aid and comes riddled with ultimatums is no longer wanted.”
The reaction is immediate. A ripple of surprise shudders through the room. I feel Noa’s eyes and shock before I turn her way. Just like everything else that has unfolded today, she didn’t know about Lowri’s pack. That one’s on me. Another secret. At least this one was meant as a gift.
All week, I’ve been slipping out of the house, leaving Noa behind, to attend meetings and work out the plan for today. Meeting with Cerys and the other Craddock Pack members had been one of those things.
I hadn’t gone to them as an Alpha seeking to expand territory or power. I went as a man offering them a home. A place to belong. A roof, safety, and a leader who would bleed before he let what happened to them in Ashvale happen again on his land. I never pressured the she-wolves, told them they didn’t owe me a damn thing. I gave them the truth. That I would be honored to have wolves like them in my ranks. Women trained by the great Lowri Craddock, survivors who know what it’s like to fight to live and came out on the other side. Their tenacity and valor is something my pack could use more of.
