...and presented it to Alpha Aurora with more elaborate ceremonial flourishes, earning praise for his "meticulous strategy and sharp instincts."

This same wolf had "coincidentally" claimed a mysterious illness last moon cycle—right when the territory campaign hit a critical standpoint.

The moment I led the patrol through the crisis, he "coincidentally" recovered, swept in with the final battle reports, and delivered the victory howl himself.

I fixed him with a cold stare. Said nothing.

"Kael, brother, you're acting far too rashly here."

Garrick Thornvale shook his head, wearing an expression of genuine concern for my wellbeing.

"You're skilled, no one disputes that. It's just... sometimes you lack the subtlety required, you understand?"

"This is pack politics. It's not enough to be strong in your duties—you need to know how to navigate the hierarchy too, wouldn't you agree?"

The underlying message oozed from every word. He even clasped my shoulder, all pack-brother warmth.

"Precisely." Another pack member jumped in immediately, wearing an exaggerated false smile. "Kael, what sort of display is this meant to be?"

"Playing reluctant? Trying to pressure Alpha Aurora into granting you a rank raise?"

"I hate to inform you, but that tactic is as old as the first moon!"

Snickers rippled through the den.

I didn't stop. Kept gathering my few belongings into the leather satchel.

"Honestly, Kael, don't do anything foolish."

Someone else approached, leaning against the stone pillar, tone dripping with superiority.

"Your mate's at the den with the pup, no hunting rights of her own, correct? Your young one just entered his training years?"

"This is when resource demands truly mount. You just walk away like this—how will you secure next moon's rations? The territory dues?"

"No share of the hunt, your whole family will be surviving on scraps through the winter festival?"

The words barely settled before more "concerned" pack members gathered around.

"He speaks truth, Kael. We're all grown wolves here. Don't throw a fit like some untrained pup."

"So your pack boon was smaller than expected—Alpha Aurora already promised you a rank raise next season. Just endure until then."

"You understand how savage the pack territories are out there. In our world, once you're past your prime hunting years, no pack even considers your worth."

"You're what... nearing your fourth decade now? Walk out those den gates, who's going to claim you?"

"Stay here, at least your position is secure."

"Exactly. Why are you even measuring yourself against Garrick? His social cunning, his status maneuvering, his combat abilities—can you match any of that?"

"Sometimes you simply must accept your place in the hierarchy. Keep your head low, fulfill your duties, stop reaching for ranks that aren't meant for you."

The voices piled on top of each other, buzzing in my ears like a swarm of gnats.

And by the end, they'd abandoned all pretense entirely. Nothing but spite and ridicule.

"If you ask me, Kael receiving a quarter share for his boon was already generous. That rigid ward-work and strategy planning he does? Find a fresh-blooded wolf, train them for a few moons, they'd probably manage it better—and for fewer resources."

"A wise wolf knows his limitations. Pity some were born without that self-awareness."

"Let him put on his little performance. I give it three nights, at most, before he comes crawling back to beg Alpha Aurora for his place."

"Oh, that's going to be a scene worth witnessing..."

I'd had enough. I fastened the satchel shut.

Cleared my throat.

"Everyone finished?"

I turned to the pack member who'd started the underhanded pressure campaign.

Last season, his patrol ward had a catastrophic flaw. I'd pulled three consecutive sleepless nights restructuring his defensive formations to keep it from becoming a disaster that exposed our den.

"Alaric Crowfang. Remember?"

"That failure-riddled patrol ward of yours last season? I'm the one who salvaged your mess."

"Heard Alpha Aurora praised you afterward for staying steady under pressure and resolving it swiftly?"

"Impressive display. But do me a kindness—next time, don't use live pack defenses as your training ground."

His face flushed deep crimson. His jaw worked open and closed. Nothing emerged.

I turned to the pack member so "worried" about my rations.

"Dorian Ashclaw. Your mate doesn't hold hunting rights either. So that illicit trading you've been running secretly using pack resources last moon—was that meant to cover your territory dues?"

"Do I need to remind you what the Veil Code states about pack members who trade secrets and resources with outsiders?"

"Or would you prefer I refresh your memory right now?"

The fake smile froze on his face. A flicker of panic crossed his eyes, and he instinctively took half a step back. His wolf ears flattened against his skull.

"And you." I turned to the she-wolf who'd said I was "past my prime and no pack would claim me." "Selene, I recall your introduction to the council claimed you were skilled in reading scent-trails and tracking enemy movements."

"Would you like me to describe aloud that territory analysis you submitted last moon cycle—the one with more gaps than a rotted fence—so everyone can evaluate your level of 'skill'?"

"Or perhaps we should ask the hunting party who got ambushed because of your faulty recommendation how they felt about losing three deer and our standing with the Silvercrest allies?"

Selene Frostveil's neck stiffened, ready to bare her fangs.

But under the suddenly shifted gazes around her, she didn't dare make a sound.

I swept my eyes across the den, letting them settle on the ones who'd been most eager in piling on.

"And you lot—the records of you sleeping through guard rotations, sneaking off to gamble with the border traders, shirking patrol duties to gossip by the fire. Want me to pull the ward-keeper's logs and help you relive those moments? Then present them to Alpha Ashthorne at the next council gathering?"

"Rowan Stormhart who maintains our communication wards and I get along quite well. Shouldn't be any trouble."

The air turned to ice.

The den that had been buzzing with noise moments ago was now silent enough to hear a heartbeat.

Face after face cycled through red and white, veins pulsing at temples. Not a trace of mockery remained—only humiliation and fear.

They'd grown accustomed to making me their entertainment.

What they hadn't expected was that the wolf who always kept his head down, grinding away without a shred of political cunning, actually knew this much.

Garrick stood at a distance, that easy smile of his finally cracking. His gaze turned dark as he watched me, his scent souring with barely contained hostility.

I didn't look at him again. Didn't look at anyone.

The few personal items I'd planned to gather suddenly seemed pointless.

I bent down, picked up the half-filled leather satchel, and walked out.

I'd just reached the edge of my family's small territory when my communication stone hummed with warmth.

The signature pulsing through it: Aurora.

I answered. Said nothing.

"Kael!"

Her voice dripped with displeasure, crashing down like a wave of Alpha command.

"Do you have any idea what hour it is? What's going on with the Crowfang alliance pact?"

"Their emissary has asked three times already. I told you I needed the first draft of terms before moonrise."

"You're not responding to summons, you're not at your station in the council hall—"

"Where in the territory are you?"

I looked up at the warm glow spilling from my den's entrance, where my mate waited. My voice stayed flat.

"Alpha Ashthorne, I've already withdrawn my oath and returned home. My formal withdrawal—didn't you tear it apart?"

Dead silence on the other end.

Then her voice shot up, that imperious Alpha tone thickening.

"Kael! Are you done with this defiance? I told you, that whole thing is in the past!"

"Next season's rank raise—I guarantee I'll make it happen!"

"You're still hung up on that bit of hunting rights and resources? Seriously? It's not that significant!"

"Do you have any sense of pack duty? The pack needs you right now!"

I almost laughed.

"Alpha Ashthorne, is your 'pack duty' giving scraps to the wolves who actually defend our borders, while the ones who grovel and steal glory walk away with the finest portions and warmest dens?"

"Is your 'pack duty' dangling promises season after season, working the loyal wolves until they collapse from exhaustion?"

"You—"

Aurora choked on her words. After a breath, her tone softened slightly.

But it still carried that air of superiority, like she was granting me a favor.

"Kael, I know you're upset."

"But Garrick... he does fit certain aspects of what the pack needs right now."

"You're a seasoned member. You need to understand the pack's difficulties and strategic adjustments."

"Return to the den and complete the alliance pact terms. I'll have the Elder Council process your rank raise immediately—a full tier advancement to start. How does that sound?"

"The Silvercrest alliance cannot move forward without you!"

"Cannot move forward without me?" I let out a hollow laugh, the sound rough in my throat. "Alpha Ashthorne, you give me too much credit."

"Your pack overflows with capable wolves. Especially certain individuals."

"Outstanding abilities. Skilled at reading the room. Presentation scrolls that could earn Moon-Honor from the High Council itself."

"A simple Silvercrest pact? Mere pup's play for someone of that caliber."

"I suggest you save the opportunity for those who truly hunger for it."

"Like, say, the one who walked away with those prime hunting rights and treasure shares."

"Kael!" Aurora's voice turned to ice, her Alpha command threading through each word like a threat. "Do not bare your fangs at the one who sheltered you. You think any pack out there will take in a wolf who abandoned his own?"

"You think your aging ward-craft and patrol strategies are in high demand?"

"Let me make this clear—leave these grounds today, and do not expect to crawl back with your belly exposed."

"If the Silvercrest alliance crumbles because of your desertion, can you even bear that weight on your shoulders—"

I cut her off, my voice steady as stone. "Alpha Ashthorne, the moment you shredded my oath withdrawal and tossed it into the fire pit, any responsibility between me and this pack ceased to exist."

"The Silvercrest alliance benefits someone. That someone can shoulder the burden."

"As for my future..."

I watched the moonlight filtering through the corridor windows, casting its pale silver glow across the worn stone floor.

"That is no longer your concern."

I ended the connection before she could speak another word.

Silence. Finally.

I held the nearly empty leather satchel against my chest and climbed the winding path toward home, one step at a time.

The road ahead was uncertain. Perhaps even lined with thorns and hostile territory.

But at least I would never again have to chase prey that was always just out of reach. Never again have to choke on the stench of shameless status-posturing and false scent-soothing.

When I reached our dwelling, my mate was clearing the evening meal from the table.

She looked up as I entered, surprise flickering across her delicate features. "You're home early?"

I set down the satchel. No point in hiding it. I told her everything—the hunting rights stolen, the betrayal, all of it.

"So I broke my oath of service."

I braced myself for her disappointment.

It never came. Instead, she crossed the room and took my hands in hers, her voice soft as moonlight.

"It's alright. If you left, you left."

"These past seasons... you've worn yourself down to bone and sinew. And you've never truly been at peace."

"I've sensed it all along. It's broken my heart."

My throat tightened. I pulled her close and held on, breathing in her familiar scent—wildflowers and warm hearth smoke.

She rubbed gentle circles on my back, then asked if I was hungry.

I nodded. She disappeared into the cooking area.

Moments later, a steaming bowl of herb-seasoned broth with fresh-caught fish appeared before me.

She sat across the table, chin propped in her hand, watching me eat with those knowing amber eyes.

"What's the plan now?"

"Haven't really thought it through." I took a deep drink of the warm broth. "After the winter festival passes, I'll scout the surrounding territories. Perhaps... take on some wandering work? Offer my ward-craft to smaller packs who need it?"

"Mm. You're skilled at what you do. Some pack will want you." Her tone left no room for doubt. "Just don't rush it. Your health comes first. Let your wolf heal."

I nodded.

The broth was warm, spreading from my throat all the way down to my belly.

All these seasons, I had always eaten in haste. Racing to finish territory reports, scrambling to save time for the next crisis. I had never once stopped to taste what my mate's cooking actually tasted like.

Tonight, I did. It tasted like home. Like belonging.

After the meal, I offered to clean the bowls and utensils.

Outside the window, night deepened. The forest glowed with scattered firefly light and distant pack torches blinking on, one cluster after another.

Right about now, the central den was probably still blazing with lantern light. Garrick was probably nursing his ceremonial wine, pitching some "fresh strategy" to Aurora with that practiced smile of his.

But none of that was my burden anymore.

I finished cleaning and walked back to the main room.

That's when my communication stone hummed against my hip.

A message from Aurora. Every word dripped with fury:

"Kael, I'm offering you one final chance to prove your loyalty. Have the Sterlinggate Alliance pact terms delivered to my den by moonrise."

"My tolerance for insubordination has its limits. Do not sever every bond you have with this pack."

"If you refuse, I promise you will carry the weight of that choice for the rest of your days."

I stared at the message etched into the communication stone, the corner of my mouth pulling into something that fell short of amusement.

My claws traced the response runes with deliberate care:

"Alpha Ashthorne, I will carry no regrets."