Hated By The Alpha Bound To Me

Chapter 35 -Between Loyalty and Truth

The council meeting finally came to an end.

Chairs scraped across the wooden floor as council members gathered their reports. The tension that had filled the hall slowly gave way to conversation, voices overlapping as people discussed travel arrangements and unfinished business. Sunlight streamed through the high windows, warming the polished wood of the long table.

Valric was already occupied with another councilman.

Several others were preparing for the journey home.

Thorne remained where he was, watching the room with the same quiet attention he had carried throughout the meeting.

"Elara?"

She turned to find Andrea standing nearby.

"Yes?"

The councilwoman offered a polite smile.

"Could you point me toward a bathroom?"

The request caught her off guard.

Of everything she expected a council member to ask after that meeting, directions to a bathroom sat near the bottom of the list.

"Of course."

"Thank you."

Elara gestured toward the corridor.

"It's this way."

They left the hall together.

The further they walked, the quieter things became. The noise of the meeting faded behind them until only the sound of their footsteps remained. Light filtered through narrow windows set into the stone walls, creating bright patches across the floor. The scent of cedar drifted from somewhere deeper within the pack house, mixing with traces of smoke from the hearths that kept the large building warm during colder months.

Outside, Draegon continued its day as though a council meeting hadn't just taken place. Through the windows, Elara caught glimpses of warriors crossing the training grounds, children darting between buildings, and pack members carrying baskets and supplies from one side of the territory to the other. The familiar rhythm of daily life felt strangely comforting after spending hours surrounded by politics.

Andrea commented on the size of the territory.

Elara answered.

She mentioned the long journey from council headquarters.

Elara answered that as well.

The conversation moved easily enough, yet something about it felt deliberate.

People rarely approached a stranger for small talk.

Council members rarely approached anyone without a reason.

By the time they reached the guest wing, Elara was convinced Andrea wanted something.

The councilwoman slowed near the bathroom door and stopped.

A smile touched her lips.

"I should probably admit that I didn't actually need directions."

Elara folded her arms.

"I had a feeling."

"I needed a reason to get you alone."

At least she was honest.

That counted for something.

Andrea shifted the folder tucked beneath her arm.

"I joined the council a little over a year ago."

The statement seemed random enough that Elara waited for her to continue.

"Most new members hope for important assignments. Political negotiations. Pack disputes. Something exciting."

A faint laugh escaped her.

"I got archives."

That earned a smile.

"Unlucky."

"That's what I thought at first."

Andrea glanced down at the folder.

"Then I discovered paperwork tells far more interesting stories than people do."

They resumed walking at a slower pace.

Their footsteps echoed softly through the corridor. A pair of pack members passed them heading in the opposite direction, offering respectful nods before continuing on their way. Andrea waited until they were gone before speaking again.

"I spent months sorting old records. Treaties. Incident reports. Correspondence between packs. The kind of work nobody else wants."

Something in her expression tightened.

"That's when I started finding references to documents that weren't there."

Elara's attention sharpened immediately.

"Missing?"

"Referenced. Quoted. Mentioned."

Andrea brushed her thumb along the edge of the folder.

"Every record suggested another document should exist. Every time I went looking for it, there was nothing."

That was harder to dismiss than a missing file.

A lost document could be an accident.

A trail of missing documents was something else entirely.

"I assumed it was poor record keeping."

"And now?"

Andrea met her gaze.

"Now I think the gaps are too consistent."

They reached another window overlooking the pack grounds and slowed again.

Below, warriors crossed the training field while pack members moved between buildings carrying supplies and equipment. Near the kitchens, several older women stood talking while children raced around them. Laughter drifted upward on the breeze.

Andrea followed Elara's gaze.

"It's different than I expected."

"Draegon?"

She nodded.

"The reports make it sound harsher."

Elara almost laughed.

That sounded familiar.

"The missing records always circle back to the same period," Andrea said.

"The war."

A flicker of approval crossed Andrea's face.

"The years leading up to it. The years during it. Anything involving both Draegon and Valamere."

Elara rested a shoulder against the stone wall.

Questions crowded her thoughts.

Andrea seemed to notice.

"You strike me as someone who asks them."

The comment immediately raised her guard.

She kept her expression neutral.

"Depends on the question."

Andrea laughed softly.

"Fair enough."

A comfortable silence followed as they watched activity below.

A group of warriors emerged from the training grounds, sweat darkening their shirts as they headed toward the pack house. Somewhere in the distance, a hammer struck metal, the sound carrying clearly across the territory.

"Records get lost," Elara said.

"They do."

"Wars destroy things."

"They do that too."

The agreement came too easily.

Andrea wasn't trying to convince her.

She was explaining why she no longer believed the obvious answers.

"I've spent the last year organizing archives," she said quietly. "After a while you learn the difference between disorder and absence."

The distinction lingered between them.

"Then why tell me?"

Andrea leaned against the window ledge.

"Because you're one of the few people who can question both sides."

Elara already knew what she meant.

Most wolves belonged to Draegon or Valamere.

She moved between both.

"You can ask questions where I can't."

Andrea glanced toward the courtyard below.

"And if answers exist, they'll be scattered between both packs."

The logic was difficult to argue with.

A breeze slipped through the partially opened window, stirring a few loose strands of Andrea's hair.

"I'm returning to the archives when I leave."

"If you find something?"

"I'll bring it."

"Where?"

"The eastern border."

Elara frowned.

"Why there?"

"It's neutral enough."

The answer sounded well considered.

"When?"

"Three weeks."

Andrea held her gaze.

"Midnight."

The time felt oddly specific.

Andrea smiled.

"I know."

"You really thought this through."

"I've had a lot of time to think."

That much was obvious.

The conversation paused again.

Neither woman seemed in a hurry to fill the silence.

Below them, life within Draegon continued uninterrupted. Warriors trained. Children played. Pack members moved through their routines. Looking down at the activity, it was easy to forget how much tension existed beneath the surface.

"You know what bothers me?" Andrea asked.

"What?"

A faint smile touched her face.

"I still believe in the council."

That wasn't the answer Elara expected.

Andrea looked toward the distant meeting hall.

"I joined because I believed we protected the packs."

Something thoughtful entered her expression.

"I still believe that part."

Her gaze returned to Elara.

"I've simply started wondering whether everyone else believes it for the same reason."

That felt far more honest than accusations ever could.

Andrea pushed away from the wall.

"I should probably use that bathroom now."

The laugh escaped before Elara could stop it.

Andrea grinned.

"Otherwise I've created a very strange situation for myself."

"That would be difficult to explain."

"Exactly."

The smile lingered as Andrea stepped toward the door.

A few minutes later she disappeared inside, leaving Elara alone in the corridor.

The quiet felt different now.

Less empty.

More thoughtful.

Elara drifted back toward the window.

Below, the training grounds were beginning to fill again as warriors returned for afternoon drills. Somewhere nearby, someone was cooking. The scent of fresh bread carried through the open window and mixed with the crisp autumn air.

Three weeks.

The eastern border.

Midnight.

The details repeated themselves in her mind as she watched the territory below.

For weeks she had been chasing answers without knowing where to look.

Now she had a direction.

Whether it led to the truth remained to be seen.