Chapter 10- Strip

When the messenger came to fetch us, I almost ignored him. He was a scrawny boy, barely out of his teenage years, with a mop of brown hair and a face smudged with dirt.

He was leaning against the doorframe, panting, as if he had run all the way from the great hall, which, knowing our pack's elders, he probably had.

“Meeting,” he gasped, clutching his side. "The elders... they want to see you. Now.”

I looked at Aldric, who was sharpening a hunting knife on a whetstone, and Ronan, who was stretched out on the floor, reading a book.

This sudden summons was both surprising and unwelcome.

"Do either of you know what this is about?” I asked, annoyed already.

Aldric snorted, a low, guttural sound. He didn’t even look up from his knife. “How would I know? They sent for us at the same time. Do I look like I keep the elders’ schedules written on my arm? They probably just want to remind us we’re still not ‘fitting in’ properly.”

Ronan didn't stir, but he lowered his book just enough to glance at me over the top of it. He shrugged lazily, as if the whole thing bored him already. “Maybe they’re finally going to crown one of us Alpha of the pack and save themselves the stress. They must be tired of chasing us around the territory.”

I smirked. “If that’s the case, I vote for you, Ronan. You’d bore them to death before they could argue. Besides, your apathy is a far more effective weapon against them than any of my schemes.”

Aldric finally looked up. “Let’s just get this over with. The sooner we go, the sooner we can leave again.”

We walked side by side. The guards we passed bowed low, and servants scurried out of our way.

The great hall was as imposing as ever.

The elders were already seated in their stiff wooden chairs, their faces lined with years of judgment.

Their eyes followed us as we entered.

“Sit,” one of them ordered.

I didn’t like the tone. Aldric didn’t either; his jaw tightened, a muscle in his cheek twitching.

But he dropped into the chair with carelessness.

Ronan leaned back in his own chair, arms folded across his chest, staring at the ceiling like he couldn’t care less about the ancient men glaring at him. I sat last.

The oldest elder reached his chest and cleared his throat. "We called you here because it’s time you took your duties seriously. You disappear from the pack a week or two after your birthdays, only to return until it’s your next birthday.

This is unacceptable. We have tried to be patient, to give you the space you think you need, but the pack is beginning to question your commitment.” He paused, his gaze sweeping over each of us. “It’s time you each found your mates and settled down.”

I almost laughed. This again. The same tired lecture they had been giving us for years, ever since we hit sixteen.

“Settle down?” Aldric repeated, his voice laced with pure sarcasm. “Like you mean—tie ourselves to some girl and spend our days counting sheep and attending boring meetings? Sorry, old man, but that sounds less like a duty and more like a punishment.”

One of the elders, a portly man with a flushed face, slammed his cane against the ground, the loud thud echoing in the cavernous hall.

“Watch your tongue! Do not mock your responsibilities. You will not escape your destiny. Our traditions are what make this pack strong. The longer you put this off, the more you endanger us all. If one of you does not soon take the title of Alpha, the pack will suffer. And so will our relations with neighboring territories.”

Ronan’s lips curved into a smirk. He unfolded his arms and leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing. “So, what you’re saying is… you want us to hurry up and find our mates so you can have your Alpha and save yourselves from growing old and irrelevant.”

“Do you really think a true Alpha can be rushed? The goddess chooses when the time is right, not you.”

Murmurs rippled across the table. I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the wood.

“And if none of us care about rushing fate? What then? Will you force us into a mating bond? Or perhaps marry us off to your daughters to keep your positions safe? Is that what this is really about? Your own legacy, not the pack's?”

Their faces turned angry.

“Do you wish to end up like your mother?”

The room stilled.

He pressed on, clearly emboldened by our silence. “She refused the bond too long, and what was her fate? Madness. Death. Is that the future you want? Is that what you wish to bring upon this pack? A madness that will cripple our next generation?”

For a moment, there was silence. Then Aldric chuckled darkly, shaking his head.

“You old fools never learn respect,” he said, his voice a low growl. “You speak of her as if she were weak. She was the strongest woman this pack ever saw, and you’re afraid of that. You’re afraid of us, because we are our mother’s sons. If you’re not careful, you’ll drive yourselves mad with your own words long before we ever share our mother’s fate.”

Ronan leaned forward now, His voice was quiet. “Next time you speak about her, do it with respect. Or we’ll make sure you join her sooner than the goddess planned. Do you understand?” He didn't wait for a response.

"We came here out of respect for our father. Do not mistake our patience for weakness."

“And does my father know that you are forcing us into getting a mate and also saying mean words about our mother?” I chipped in and their face went pale immediately.

“The way you all are looking. I guess the answer is that he doesn’t? You are doing all this at his back because he travelled to the neighboring pack, Huh?”

“Let’s all wonder what is going to happen if he finds out about this meeting.” I said to them.

“This meeting we had is for the best. The Alpha king is going to understand it.” One of the elders said.

“Okay then, let’s see how the Alpha king is going to take it when he heard that you speak ill of his mate.”

“Can’t wait to see it all play.”

Their faces drained of color. None of them dared to reply.

The meeting ended in a strained, uncomfortable silence, and we walked out without a single bow, leaving the elders in their self-important haze.

We didn't exchange words until we were far away from the hall, walking back to our wing of the palace.

By the time we reached our rooms, my blood was boiling. Their words replayed over and over in my head.

The insult to my mother, the constant reminder that we were nothing more than vessels for their own ambitions

"How dare they," I muttered, pacing my room like a caged animal. "Sit there in their rotting chairs, spitting curses at us like we’re children.

Next time, if one of them even hints at Mother’s name, I’ll cut out his tongue. No—his head. Maybe then they’ll learn to keep their mouths shut.”

I dropped onto my bed, teeth gritted, my fists clenched at my sides.

That’s when I heard the knock, a soft, tentative sound against my door.

“Come in,” I said coldly, not bothering to sit up. The anger had not cooled, and I was in no mood for company.

The door opened slowly, and a female slipped inside, her eyes lowered to the floor as if she was afraid to meet my gaze.

She was small and slender.

I narrowed my gaze, my rage instantly shifting its focus. "Who are you?" My voice was a low growl.

Her voice was small, barely a whisper. “I… I was sent to you. I’m the one you were supposed to meet earlier.”

I sat up, a cruel smirk forming on my lips.

The girl in front of me was a perfect target.

"The slut, then."

She flinched, her shoulders tensing, but she nodded. She didn't deny it, which only fueled my contempt. "Yes, Alpha."

"What took you so long?" I asked sharply. "Do you know how close you were to losing your life for keeping me waiting? For a few moments, I thought about telling them to bring me another one."

My eyes raked over her, from her trembling hands to her downcast face.

She swallowed hard, trembling. "There was a mix-up... a messenger was delayed. I came as soon as I was told." She was trying to explain, to plead for her life, but I was not listening. Her fear was a delicious scent in the air.

For a moment, I considered it. Ending her here and now would’ve cooled the fire burning in me. Her life was insignificant, a disposable thing in this world.

But then, another, more potent thought came.

No—there was a better, more satisfying way to release this rage..

“Strip,” I ordered.