Dawson accepts this with a thoughtful nod as we return to the living room, where Brooks has already lined up a few empty glasses that need filling. As I pop the cork and discreetly scan my surroundings, I'm once again left to feel like the spotlight is on me when the elders gather around the table.
The lightheartedness of the main alpha's son's birthday party is gone, and the air becomes dense with palpable tension that settles in the base of my spine as I take a seat beside my grandfather. What began as a celebration has quickly turned into a meeting, especially since the elders are planning to meet with another council across the states.
The threat of demons has forced us to search for allies outside of Alaska, to implement safety measures, and provide a safe haven for Snehvolk if the need arises.
“This is not an ideal time to travel, but it's been months since the demons have attacked. We have to make our move now,” Elder Silas, Alpha Elias's grandfather, sternly declares.
“I should be the one meeting with other packs,” Elias murmurs, his eyes focused on his hands intertwined in front of him.
“You can't risk leaving the pack unprotected, or falling victim to demons out there,” Elder Caius reminds him.
“I know,” Elias sighs. “Aurora and Yvonne have already prophesied that our four witches will help Emile take the demons down. I need to be here when that happens.”
Elias's eyes flit to me, a flicker of expectation flashing through his hazel eyes. He doesn't have to speak to communicate his question, prompting me to clear my throat right after I've gulped down the contents of my glass.
The welcomed burn of the liquor lasts long enough for me to feel less apprehensive.
“I have two more packs in the south to check before I extend my search outside of Alaska,” I inform Elias.
“Do you really think she'd be that far?” Brooks asks with a raised brow, and I shrug.
“Well, if you guys had given me more than just the color of her eyes, I might have been able to narrow it down. You're sure you didn't see her face?”
Brooks shakes his head. “Only her eyes. But like I said before, it was more about the feeling. She was very powerful.”
“And I have yet to find that feeling, either,” I scoff, and Dawson pats my shoulder reassuringly.
“You will find it, brother. Trust me, we all have.”
Dawson's reassurance does little to quell the unsettled feeling in my gut, especially when I turn to find my grandfather speaking to Elder Silas, and I wonder if he's gotten over his disdain for low-ranking omega werewolves.
Perhaps part of my delay in finding my fated mate is knowing that, just like the other witches in Snehvolk, my fated mate is bound to emerge as an omega, and I'm not sure how my grandfather will receive the news.
Surely, he knows by now that my fate is similar to the other alphas in the pack, whether it's because of the recent demon threat or not. Elias, Dawson, and Brooks all found their fated mates at the bottom of the pack hierarchy, but those women emerged as powerful witches.
Is that enough to win over my grandfather's acceptance? Or does he still hang onto the personal grudge he had against mymother? He'd always claimed that her being an omega was the reason for my parents’ deaths.
The weight of his voice echoes in my skull even now, like a shadow I can’t outrun. My mother’s laughter, soft and warm, never seems to drown out his harsh judgment, not even in my memories. I rub the rim of my glass with my thumb, pretending to listen to the elders trade strategies, but all I hear is Charles’s disapproval, spoken in whispers only I can hear.
If my mate is truly an omega, if she is the fourth witch we’ve all been waiting for…I’ll have to stand against my grandfather. Against the man who raised me when my parents couldn’t. The thought coils in my chest like a steel band, squeezing until I can barely breathe.
“Thane.”
Elias’s voice snaps me back, and I meet his steady hazel eyes. There’s no judgment there, only expectation—and the bone-deep exhaustion of a leader trying to hold his people together. “You said two more packs in the south?”
“Yes.” My answer is rough, scraping the back of my throat. “If nothing turns up, I’ll widen the search. Maybe Canada. Maybe even farther.”
Silas leans forward, his ancient gaze sharp as broken glass. “You’d best move quickly. Prophecy waits for no wolf.”
Brooks smirks faintly, pouring himself another drink. “Don’t let him scare you. You’ll find her.”
Easy for him to say. He found Rissa when he wasn’t even looking. Same for Dawson with Yvonne. Even Elias, brooding as he is, stumbled across Aurora at her lowest point—when Snehvolk was ready to use her as a sacrifice to keep the demons away and protect the pack—and somehow, he helpedher become the witch who saved us all. Meanwhile, I’ve chased every lead, followed every half-whisper of blue eyes, and come up empty.
Maybe Dawson’s right. Maybe logic won’t win this hunt. But instincts are slippery things, and mine are tangled between duty, fear, and the echo of my grandfather’s voice.
The elders’ conversation shifts to logistics—alliances, safe havens, fallback strategies—but I hardly hear them. My focus drifts to the window, where the moon hangs swollen and silver over the dark Alaskan sky. Somewhere out there, my mate exists. Somewhere, those crystalline eyes are waiting to meet mine.
And until I find her, every breath I take feels like failure.
