Every head turned when Arthur stepped in. Conversations thinned to a murmur.
“Well, that’s not ominous,” Chase muttered.
Fenred sat near the bar, shoulders bunched, gaze hooded. Hunters clustered around him. Along the left wall, Alex had claimed the central table, legs stretched out, two younger wolves flanking him like lieutenants.
Arthur let his wolf rise just enough to push a steady weight through the room.
“You’re all up early,” he said. “We run out of beds?”
A couple of tight laughs. Mostly silence.
Alex tipped his chair back, mug dangling from his fingers, “We figured we should talk,” he said, “seeing as our alpha’s been making…interesting choices.”
Chase’s fingers brushed Arthur’s arm.Careful.
Arthur walked further in, Chase half a step behind, “If you’ve got something to say,” he replied, “say it.”
Alex smiled without warmth. “You’ve been busy, Arthur. Taking a Salem witch as a mate. Moving her into the alpha house. Bringing her sisters here. Inviting Volnoye to the summit without saying a word to your own pack.” His gaze flicked to the bite mark at Arthur’s throat. “Some of us are wondering if you remember who you’re meant to be leading.”
A low rumble went through a few younger wolves.
“Nordan first,” someone muttered.
Arthur’s wolf bristled. He kept his tone flat, “I’m doing what an alpha does,” he said, “keeping this town safe.”
“By putting witches in our beds and traitors on our borders,” Alex said softly, “bold plan.”
“Careful,” Chase said lightly.
Alex didn’t look at him. His pale eyes stayed on Arthur. “We’ve bled for this land,” he said, “for you. But there’s a line between compromise and forgetting what we are.”
He set his mug down with a click.
“We’re asking,” he said, “if you still know where that line is.”
Arthur felt the room leaning in. Fenred’s jaw was clenched so hard a muscle jumped. He hadn’t spoken. His silence said plenty.
“You talking aboutwe,” Arthur asked, “or you?”
Alex lifted his hands. “I’m just the one saying it out loud,” he said, “but I’m not the only one thinking it.”
He jerked his chin toward a knot of wolves near the back. Males Arthur had run with for years suddenly found their boots fascinating.
It stung. He didn’t let it show.
“All right,” Arthur said quietly. He stepped up to Alex’s table, light catching the scar down his face. “Anyone here who thinks I’m not fit to lead,” he said, his voice carrying, “you had the spine to whisper it to him. Have the spine to say it to me. Now.”
Silence stretched.
For a moment, he thought Alex had overreached, and the room would slink back into line.
Then one of the younger wolves, Eddy, barely out of puphood, cleared his throat.
“You…invited the Volnoye,” he said, ears pink, “didn’t tell us. You’ve always said hybrids were the enemy, but you bring in wolves who rebelled against our closest allies. You mated a witch without announcing it officially to the pack. We’re not saying you’re…bad, Alpha. Just…” he shrugged helplessly, “everything’s changing. Fast.”
“We’re wondering if you’re seeing clear,” an older hunter added, “or if the bond’s got you turned. After all, she is a—”
Arthur’s sharp growl stopped the male’s words in his throat.
