Chapter 31 - The Call
1171 Words
The sounds of the training grounds followed Elara across the courtyard long after she left them behind.
Bodies still collided somewhere in the distance while growls rolled faintly through the air. Dust lingered on her clothes from the fight with Marina, and the ache beneath her ribs remained a constant reminder of it.
She had almost reached the pack house when a voice called her name.
“Elara.”
She turned and found Rowan making his way toward her through the courtyard.
“I got the authorization.”
Her attention shifted toward him.
“For the call?”
He nodded.
“The border office approved it.”
That meant Thorne approved it. Everything still required the Alpha’s final authorization.
Elara let the thought pass. What mattered was keeping her promise to Nyra.
“Thank you.”
Rowan motioned for her to follow.
“This way.”
Elara fell into step beside him as he led her through the pack house. The noise of the courtyard gradually faded behind them. Voices became fewer the deeper they moved into the building until only the occasional footstep echoed through the corridors.
A few pack members stepped aside as Rowan passed. Some greeted him with brief nods while others carried on with whatever task had occupied them before. An older woman emerging from a side corridor glanced toward Elara, studying her for a moment before continuing on her way.
Life carried on around them with the steady rhythm of a pack moving through another day.
Rowan stopped outside a door and pushed it open.
“My office.”
Elara stepped inside.
The room reflected Rowan in ways she hadn't expected.
Shelves lined one wall, filled with records, ledgers, and reports arranged with almost unnatural precision. Several stacks of files occupied one side of the desk, each grouped neatly enough that Rowan could probably locate a single document within seconds.
The room felt lived in without appearing cluttered.
A faint scent drifted through the air, mint leaves blending with paper, ink, and old wood. Elara had noticed it around Rowan before. Here it seemed woven into the office itself.
A desk stood near the far wall with a phone resting neatly on its surface.
“You can use that,” Rowan said.
“Thanks.”
Rowan remained by the door instead of leaving.
The call was approved, though it clearly wasn't private.
Elara resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she crossed toward the desk.
For a moment her hand hovered over the phone before she picked it up.
The number came easily.
Her fingers tightened slightly as she dialed.
The line rang once and then, on the second ring, a voice answered.
“Hello?”
“Lyria, it’s me.”
A breath left her immediately.
“Elara.”
Relief softened every syllable.
“I've missed hearing your voice.”
A small smile tugged at Elara’s mouth.
“It’s good to hear yours too.”
A brief silence passed between them.
“How are you?” Lyria asked quietly.
Elara leaned lightly against the desk.
“I've been better.”
Concern entered Lyria’s voice immediately.
“What happened?”
Elara rubbed her thumb against the edge of the desk.
“I need you to do something for me.”
“Anything.”
The answer came without hesitation.
“I need wolves sent toward the border.”
A pause followed.
“Why?”
“Because several Valemere wolves are on their way home.”
Silence greeted that answer.
“Elara... what happened?”
“I found them in Draegon.”
Another pause followed.
“Found them?”
“They were being held.”
The words felt just as ugly saying them now as they had the first time.
Lyria drew in a slow breath.
“They should have been released when you and Thorne bonded.”
“I know.”
“They’re out now,” Elara continued. “And on their way home.”
Relief and concern mixed together in Lyria’s voice.
“I’ll ask Dad to send wolves to meet them.”
“Good.”
Elara's gaze drifted toward the maps hanging on Rowan’s wall.
“How many are there?”
“Enough.”
Lyria fell quiet for a moment.
Elara could almost picture her leaning against the wall beside the phone, trying to make sense of everything she had just heard.
“Did you know any of them?”
“A few.”
“Someone will be waiting for them.”
Garrick flashed through Elara’s mind. The pride in his eyes, the gratitude in his voice, and the way he had spoken about returning home.
“I think they’ll appreciate that.”
“I hope so.”
The conversation eased into a comfortable silence.
It reminded Elara of evenings spent outside the pack house, listening to familiar voices drift through the village while the day slowly came to an end. She never had to search for words when she was talking to Lyria.
“Are you alright?” Lyria asked after a while.
Elara closed her eyes briefly.
“I’m managing.”
“You sound tired.”
A quiet laugh escaped her.
“That’s because I am.”
Lyria accepted the answer without pushing further.
“I wish I could be there.”
The sincerity behind the words tightened something in Elara’s chest.
“Me too.”
The distance between the two packs suddenly felt much larger.
“Be careful,” Lyria said.
“I will.”
“And call again when you can.”
“I promise.”
The line remained quiet for another second.
Neither seemed eager to end the conversation.
Then Lyria spoke again.
“Take care of yourself, Elara.”
“You too.”
The line went dead.
Slowly, Elara lowered the phone back into its cradle.
Silence returned to the office.
Rowan remained where he was, giving her space while she gathered her thoughts.
She drew in a breath and straightened.
“That’s done.”
Rowan gave a small nod.
Elara remained beside the desk for a moment. Her thoughts drifted toward the wolves making their way back across the territory and the promise she had finally kept. Somehow they always found their way back to Draven.
Her gaze settled on the maps hanging along Rowan’s wall.
Territory lines stretched across the parchment in dark ink. Some notes appeared newer than others. Several markings had faded with age, leaving behind traces of decisions made years before either of them entered the room.
Generations of conflict reduced to lines and symbols.
“What are you thinking about?”
Rowan’s voice pulled her from her thoughts.
Elara looked toward him.
For a moment she considered leaving it alone.
Then she remembered every conversation that ended with half an answer and every question that seemed to make people uncomfortable.
She turned fully toward him.
“How much can you tell me about the history between Valemere and Draegon?”
Rowan’s eyes narrowed slightly.
Elara held his gaze.
The question hung between them.
- Writer
