His Broken Mate

Chapter Nine: The Room of Wolves

The council chamber was cold.

Not physically—there were fires lit, incense curling from golden dishes, and soft lamplight casting long shadows on the polished stone floor—but the atmosphere itself was frigid. Heavy. Watching.

Athena stood beside Nyt at the far end of the room. Every seat was filled—Elders, heads of allied families, war veterans, the old scholar from the southern ridge whose voice never rose above a whisper.

No one was whispering today.

“What we need is stability,” one of the Elders said sharply. “This attack was a tragedy, yes, but also an opportunity—for enemies to divide us if we show weakness.”

Athena clenched her fists. “Weakness is pretending it didn’t happen.”

The Elder’s gaze cut toward her. “No one said it didn’t happen, child.”

Child.

Nyt straightened beside her. “She’s right. We were infiltrated. Not attacked from afar—infiltrated. Jem was one of ours. And there could be more.”

“There are more,” Athena said quietly, but clearly.

The room stilled.

“They’re not just taking lives,” she continued. “They’re taking wolves. Our people. Using their bodies. Twisting them. They’re close. They’re watching. And we’re wasting time if all we care about is how this looks to the outside world.”

A murmur rippled across the chamber. Some eyes narrowed. Others shifted away.

The scholar spoke next, his voice dry like paper. “And what do you suggest, Alpha Athena?”

She hated how her new title sounded in his mouth—thin, almost mocking.

“I want every border rechecked. Every tracker reassigned. And I want Jem’s body recovered. If it can be. If there’s anything left.”

“You’re ordering a hunt?”

“I’m ordering a warning.”

Another Elder stood. “You don’t have the authority yet.”

“Yes,” Nyt said calmly. “She does.”

“She hasn’t even—”

“She does.”

The silence that followed was no longer cold. It burned.

Athena didn’t breathe until the Elder sat down again.

“We’ve already lost two packmates,” she said. “How many more do we wait for? Five? Ten? A whole den?”

“They’ll test us again,” Nyt added. “This wasn’t the war. This was the echo before it. We have one chance to show we’re not prey.”

The council didn’t fully agree.

But they didn’t say no.

Athena left the chamber with her fists still curled, heart racing under her ribs. Her voice hadn’t trembled. Her legs hadn’t buckled.

She had stood in a room of wolves.

And held her ground.