CHAPTER 24— The Alpha Who Hesitates
Peter
The knife was placed on the council table like a corpse, no one touched it at first. It sat there before us for everyone to see, the black handle, the curved silver blade, the nightshade bloom etched near the hilt like a signature left at a crime scene. Everyone stared at the accusation made of metal.
My mother stood at the head of the table as though she had already claimed the Alpha seat for herself. “Nightshade,” she said, her voice cutting through the chamber. “This is an act of war!”
The council began to murmur, low and uneasy, but I stayed seated. The chair felt heavier these days, everything did.
“It’s a knife,” I said carefully. “An emblem. That’s not proof of orchestration.”
My mother’s head snapped toward me slowly and threw me a da
