Mated by Marriage

Chapter 9

The oak doors slam open as if Chase had shoved them with his full force, causing both Derrick and I to subtly jump. Inside, a long and wide wooden table spans the majority of the majestic room. At present, the table is lined with people. They're all rather unique, spanning every age and demographic you could possibly find in the pack. If it weren't for the urgency of the matter at hand, I might've thought it appropriate to praise Dallas for his rather modern leadership style. Before I can even scan the room to find him, Chase's voice is booming out over the low hum of chatter that was filling the room just a second ago.

"Dallas, is there something you'd like to share with the class? Or is there a reasonable explanation for why Derrick just found a hair from a Bloodmoon wolf on the pack's running path?"

A deathly silence falls over the room, all heads suddenly turning to face either Chase or the head of the table, where I can now see Dallas perched confidently in a large leather armchair. The murmuring in the room returns and continues on until Dallas raises a single hand.

"Please have a seat, Chase, and while you're at it, please escort Melissa to her seat as well. I will get to your questions momentarily, despite your outburst. Oh, and Chase? It is Alpha Dixon in this room, do not make me remind you again."

Dallas's tone is cool and even, but there's a deadly undertone that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand at attention. Even though the words were not directed at me, I feel compelled to follow his instructions as well. I nudge Chase's elbow, whispering as softly as I can.

"Please, just calm down, this is my first time in front of these people. What will they think of me if your wolf gets mine all out of whack?"

Chase freezes, collecting himself in an instant and offering me his arm. I take it hesitantly and allow him to lead me to a seat near the head of the table, positioned just at the other side of Dallas. Chase takes the chair opposite me, and Derrick stands stoically behind him. Dallas raises an inquisitive eyebrow, casting his gaze between Chase and me.

"My, my, that's lovely to see. Looks like Melissa is having a rather responsible influence on you already, Chase. I'm grateful beyond words, Ms. Cartwright."

I manage a small smile and nod in his direction, not wanting to insult Chase by accepting his praise. Dallas' words feel genuine, but his tone is coy, almost as if he's goading Chase into another outburst. It's strange to see him like this; it's a stark contrast to his usually paternal demeanor. I think back to what Chase told me about never calling Dallas, "Dad", and I wonder which version of Dallas is the real one. I look up through my hair and peer across the table. Chase is boring a hole through Dallas' forehead with his eyes. I cringe internally; despite his best efforts, the presence of his wolf is overwhelming. I feel my own stir within me, and I focus all of my energy into willing her to calm. Between the mysterious scent leaking from Derrick's pocket and Chase's brooding energy, the room is starting to slowly spin.

"Derrick, debrief the delegates, please."

Dallas and his booming voice cut through the fog of my mind, bringing me back to the present. Derrick pivots to face the table.

"Yes, sir. This morning, Alpha...ah, heir apparent Chase and I were taking a run along the pack trail to the south of the pack house. We stopped near a tree for a short rest, and that's when I caught the scent. Investigation revealed a single red wolf hair, which we presume can only be from a Bloodmoon wolf."

Derrick bows his head curtly, signifying the end of his report, and returns to his position behind Chase. Dallas nods thoughtfully, allowing the delegates a moment to discuss amongst themselves before clearing his throat.

"On what basis do we presume the hair is from a Bloodmoon wolf? Chase, I would assume you made the call."

Chase clenches his jaw momentarily before speaking.

"Yes, Alpha Dixon. I made the call. As you are well aware, all incoming elite warriors and heirs apparent of the Silvermoon pack are trained to identify the scent of all neighboring packs, including those thought to be extinct. Derrick and I both recognized the scent to be Bloodmoon, and recent."

Dallas nods dismissively, clearly lost in thought. The delegates raise their hands one by one, rambling off a list of logistical questions and potential security measures. Dallas defers many of them to Tia, who snuck in during Chase's portion of the report. This carries on for the better part of an hour before a nearly ancient-looking man at the far end of the table stands and raps his knuckles on the thick mahogany grain. A reverent hush falls over the assembly.

"Alpha Dixon, I believe it's time we address the meat of the issue, if I may."

Dallas stares coldly down the table, before sighing in exasperation. He waves a hand through the air.

"Well, it can't be helped now."

The old man bows his head briefly before carrying on.

"I am sure that many of you here today are wondering how it's possibly that a hair from an extinct clan could suddenly appear on pack grounds. The unfortunate truth is that it's entirely in the realm of possibility."

The delegates begin to murmur in disagreement and confusion, but the old man soldiers on.

"When Silvermoon went to war with the Bloodmoon pack all those years ago, Alpha Dixon was a fresh Alpha. Much more lenient and compassionate than I ever was, and in his youthful optimism, he made a choice to spare every woman and child in the Bloodmoon pack. He had them renounce their alpha and scattered them among the neighboring packs with the instruction to never make any attempt to reform Bloodmoon, ever. It's been so long, I naively assumed the bloodlines had been absorbed and there would be no further issue. Ah, well, hindsight is always clearer. What would not settle in the past, we face in the present."

The assembly wastes no time erupting into a frenzy of questions. Panic-stricken voices fill the room and bounce off the walls. Dallas rises to his feet, setting both hands on the table.

"Silence!"

His voice is unwavering and definite. The power of his alpha command submerges the room into perfect silence. I quietly thank the heavens that I'm not a Silvermoon wolf, and that I was already silent, for that matter. When I was little, my Dad had taught me all about the high alpha lineages in our pack and the neighboring packs. He had said that Silvermoon, Bloodmoon, Ironmoon, and Blackmoon were the only packs with high alpha powers passed down by lineage. This means that alphas from these packs inherit the ability to command their pack without resistance, freeze weak wolves in place, and forcefully command wolves from other packs if they so choose. This power also extends to rogues, orphans, and wolves from packs where their alpha is deceased. I unfortunately fall into that last category, and would rather avoid being on the receiving end of an alpha command. As an heir with high alpha lineage, I possess the ability to resist alpha commands, and even challenge them. Seeing as I have little to no control over my wolf, I’m certain the scene would be disastrous. It crosses my mind that Chase is also capable of such feats, but there he is, sitting quietly, eyes cast down, looking unusually calm for once. The assembly is still deathly silent, and Tia is whispering something discretely to Dallas.

It dawns on me that I haven't really taken the time to process what I've just heard. If what the old man said was true, then Bloodmoon wasn't eradicated at all, and there are at least a hundred or so blood relatives of the pack floating around. I quickly run through risk assessment, weighing the options and security risks. I raise a hand timidly, not daring to look up just yet.

"Permission to speak, Alpha Dixon."

I still don't look up, waiting, nearly holding my breath.

"Yes, of course, Melissa. The delegates would do well to take note of your manners."

I lift my eyes finally, looking around the table briefly before addressing Dallas directly.

"Alpha Dixon, if what this gentleman claims is true, then I imagine Silvermoon and the neighboring packs should have a record of the transferred wolves from Bloodmoon. I believe this is standard rebinding practice in the high alpha lineage packs. If that still holds true, you should be able to compare the hair Derrick located to samples collected at the transfer."

I finish speaking and immediately lower my gaze. What I'm saying is objectively true, and I'm sure my Dad would have said the same, but I can't help but feel uneasy speaking so candidly in front of a pack I don't quite belong to yet. At the same time, I recognized that scent, and if I'm going to live here, I would rather be certain the pack is safe.

"Hmm, yes. You're quite right. I had almost forgotten about that; it's been ages since any of the packs have seen a war, so likely even longer since we've had an influx of transfers or rebindings. Well spoken, Melissa. You've clearly paid attention in your many lessons. Might I ask, what would you have us do after locating and comparing the samples?"

My eyes shoot up in surprise, meeting a genuinely inquisitive expression on the alpha's face.

"Oh, uhm. Yes, of course, Alpha. I might suggest detaining and interrogating the wolf in question if we're able to achieve a conclusive match. However, in the event that we fail to match the hair to its wolf, I would suggest a reunification program. Essentially, Silvermoon would sponsor the establishment of a new Bloodmoon pack. It would allow close oversight and provide an opportunity to rebuild relations with Bloodmoon - which could lead to additional information. It may seem risky, but it is a technique Blackmoon has been using successfully for centuries. Eventually, the sponsored pack achieves independence, and the relationship between them and their sponsor proves to be deep and long-lasting."

I clear my throat abruptly, stopping myself from rambling on any further. I'm afraid I might have overstepped in my eagerness to resolve the issue.

"I apologize for rambling, Alpha Dixon. However, I do have one more piece of information to share."

I look to Dallas, pausing for his approval before I continue. He nods expectantly.

"I myself have also smelled the hair, and I believe I recognized the scent. I apologize, but I was not able to identify any details beyond that. In light of this, I advise that Ironmoon be the first pack you reach out to when comparing samples."

The delegates murmur lightly, but it comes to a halt quickly. I imagine they remember the chill of Dallas and his alpha command from earlier. Dallas turns to Tia abruptly.

"What do you think, Tia?"

Tia hums thoughtfully.

"I suggest we follow the plan as laid out by Heiress Melissa. It's supported by pack protocol and minimizes the security risk. In the meantime, I will assign additional guards to the pack house perimeter. I will also assign rotating patrols to the residential area and the market."

Dallas pushes away from the table, standing triumphantly.

"Very well then. You heard her. Dismissed."