It doesn’t matter that my strategies are strengthening the pack. It doesn’t matter that the warriors who once mocked me now see the wisdom in my plans. Half of them still see me as an outsider, a threat to their order, a mistake Kieran refuses to correct.
And I can feel it. The division.
A storm is waiting to break. It finally does when a pack meeting is summoned and the subject is obviously…me.
The council chamber explodes with the voices of the high-ranking warriors and elders rising in heated debate. I stand near the long oak table, my arms crossed, my face carefully impassive as they argue over my fate.
One of the elders snaps, his grizzled face twisted in disdain. “Shecame here as a prisoner, a traitor from a rival pack. And now you expect us to believe she has our best interests at heart?”
I keep my expression blank, though my wolf bristles at the accusation.
“She has proven her worth,” Ian, Kieran’s Gamma, counters, his voice steady. “Her training program with the Omegas has already produced viable warriors. And her defense plans are sound. We’d be fools to ignore them.”
“A few decent tactics don’t erase where she came from,” another elder argues. “She’s turned our pack against itself. Look at us—fighting amongst ourselves because of her.”
I clench my jaw. They don’t see it. The real problem isn’t me. It’s their fear of change, their desperation to cling to a structure that has largely worked for centuries, even if it means being blind to its weaknesses.
I exhale slowly, keeping my breathing steady.
Don’t react. Don’t give them the satisfaction.
“She’s a warrior,” Ian says again, his tone like steel. “And if you had any sense, you’d see that we need warriors right now. Not infighting.”
“Enough.” Kieran looks each of them in the eyes. “Hazel is innocent. Not once has she done anything against Moonfang. It's been Damon all along. He's been working with Eldon to turn the pack against itself, to weaken us. To divide us. This war is evidence of that.”
The command room is quiet, but then, a low growl of authority stills every voice in the chamber.
Kieran steps forward from where he’s been standing near the fireplace, his blue eyes burning with something unreadable as they sweep across the room. His presence fills the space effortlessly, demanding attention, demanding submission. My wolf stirs, aroused by his aura, eager to submit to his wolf.
“This debate is pointless,” he says, his voice steady. “Hazel isn’t going anywhere.”
Murmurs ripple through the room. Some in agreement. Others in outrage.
One elder scoffs. “You’re willing to divide your pack over her?”
Kieran’s gaze hardens. “The pack is divided because some of youquestion my leadership and care. Would I lead the pack I dearly love into the ground?”
Silence. Heavy. Unforgiving.
I watch him, my chest tightening at the unwavering certainty in his stance.
“Kieran—” another elder begins, but he cuts them off with a sharp glare.
“She is my Mate,” he states, and the weight of those words crashes over me like a tidal wave. “She is staying and will soon be my Luna. Yours too. And if any of you have a problem with that, you know where the border is.”
The room stills.
For a moment, no one moves, no one breathes.
Then, one by one, the dissenters shift uneasily, some looking away, others tightening their jaws in silent defeat.
But the war isn’t over. I can feel it in the way some of them still glare at me, their resentment simmering beneath their forced compliance.
I exhale slowly, steadying myself.
Fine. Let them hate me.
I’m not here to be loved.