BROKEN HOWL

Chapter 5: Fractured Alliances

The summit’s morning session dragged under heavy gray skies. Delegates filled the grand stone pavilion, their voices a low murmur of calculated politeness and veiled threats. Matilda remained in her attendant’s role, circulating with fresh trays of spiced wine and platters of roasted meat. Her movements were precise, unhurried, every step designed to keep her close enough to gather information yet distant enough to avoid notice.

Williams had not sought her out again after their confrontation in the colonnade. Not publicly. But she felt his gaze tracking her across the pavilion more than once heavy, insistent, like a storm cloud pressing down. Each time their eyes met briefly, the faint remnants of the rejected bond pulsed with unwelcome heat. She ignored it. Focused instead on the conversations swirling around her.

At the central table, Liora sat beside Williams, her hand resting possessively on his forearm. She laughed at something an elder from the Ironfang pack said, the sound bright and practiced. Yet Matilda caught the tightness in Liora’s smile whenever Williams’s attention drifted.

Good. Let her feel the cracks.

Matilda paused near a cluster of lesser betas, refilling goblets while listening.

“…Draven’s been pushing hard on the eastern borders. Says it’s for protection, but some say he’s hunting something. Or someone.”

“…heard rumors of an ancient bloodline stirring again. The Voss line was supposed to be extinct.”

Her fingers tightened fractionally on the pitcher. Voss. Her mother’s name. The one Williams had dismissed as weak that night in the clearing. The one she had begun to weaponize in secret through Vesper’s network.

She moved on before anyone noticed her pause.

By midday, the talks shifted to trade agreements and border disputes. Williams rose to speak, his voice carrying with natural authority. “Nightshade will not tolerate further incursions. Any pack testing our strength will face the full weight of our warriors.”

Murmurs of approval and discontent rippled through the crowd. Liora beamed up at him, but her eyes flicked toward the attendants with thinly veiled suspicion.

Matilda slipped out during a brief recess, retreating to a quiet alcove behind the pavilion to steady her breathing. The encounter last night still burned. His touch on her wrist. The way his voice had roughened when he said her name. She pressed her palm against the cool stone wall, willing the unwanted warmth away.

“You’re playing a dangerous game.”

The voice came from behind her soft, female, edged with amusement.

Matilda turned slowly. A tall woman with silver-streaked auburn hair leaned against the opposite wall, arms crossed. Her cloak bore the subtle insignia of a neutral mediator. Sharp green eyes assessed Matilda with open curiosity.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Matilda replied, keeping her tone neutral.

The woman smiled faintly. “I saw the way Alpha Draven looked at you last night. And the way you looked back. Most servants don’t stare down an Alpha like that.”

Matilda’s pulse quickened, but she kept her expression composed. “Perhaps he mistook me for someone else.”

“Perhaps.” The woman pushed off the wall and stepped closer. “My name is Elowen. I facilitate… discreet arrangements for those who need them. If you require safe passage, information, or a way to disappear again after this summit, my services can be bought.”

Matilda studied her. The offer felt genuine, yet layered. An opportunity or a trap? “And what makes you think I need any of that?”

Elowen’s gaze dropped briefly to the thin white scar above Matilda’s eyebrow. “Because broken bonds leave marks. And powerful Alphas don’t forget easily. Especially when the woman they rejected returns carrying secrets.”

The words landed like stones in still water. Matilda kept her breathing even. “I’ll keep your offer in mind.”

Elowen nodded once. “Wise. The summit lasts three more days. Come find me if the storm breaks sooner than expected.”

She melted back into the crowd, leaving Matilda alone with the echo of her words.

The afternoon sessions blurred into strategy talks and private side meetings. Matilda used the time to plant the first subtle seeds of her plan. A whispered rumor here about instability in Nightshade’s leadership. A dropped comment there suggesting that Alpha Draven’s chosen mate might not be as loyal as she appeared. Small fractures. Nothing that could trace back to her yet.

As dusk fell and torches were lit across the valley, the delegates gathered for an informal feast under the open sky. Music played, drums beating a rhythm that vibrated through the ground. Dancers moved between tables, their movements fluid and provocative.

Matilda served near the Nightshade delegation. Close enough.

Williams sat rigid, his plate barely touched. Liora leaned in to whisper something in his ear. He nodded absently, but his eyes kept scanning the crowd.

Their gazes clashed again.

This time, he rose.

Liora’s hand shot out to stop him, her fingers digging into his sleeve. “Williams, the Ironfang Alpha wants to speak with you about—”

“Not now,” he muttered, pulling free. He strode toward Matilda with purpose, the crowd parting instinctively around him.

She set the tray down on a nearby table and waited. Heart hammering. Wolf alert.

He stopped just short of arm’s reach. Up close under the torchlight, the exhaustion in his face was clearer dark circles beneath his eyes, a tightness around his mouth that spoke of sleepless nights.

“Why are you here?” he demanded, voice low enough that only she could hear. “As a servant? After everything?”

Matilda lifted her chin. “I go where the work takes me. Unlike some, I don’t have a pack to hide behind.”

His hand twitched as if he wanted to reach for her again. “You shouldn’t be here. It’s not safe.”

A sharp laugh escaped her before she could stop it. “Safe? You banished me to the borderlands while I was carrying your—”

She cut herself off, glancing around to ensure no one else listened. The words hung between them, heavy and unfinished.

Williams’s face paled slightly. His eyes widened a fraction. “Carrying…?”

Matilda stepped closer, lowering her voice to a venomous whisper. “You don’t get to ask questions anymore, Alpha. You lost that right the moment you chose Liora and your precious pack over me.”

He swallowed hard, the muscle in his jaw flexing. Conflict raged openly in his expression now regret mixing with the dominant need to control the situation. “Matilda, if there was a child…”

“There isn’t,” she lied smoothly, the words tasting bitter on her tongue. “Not anymore. The forest took care of that.”

The lie hit him like a physical blow. He recoiled slightly, breath escaping in a sharp exhale. Pain flickered across his features, raw and unguarded for the briefest moment.

Before he could respond, Liora appeared at his side, her smile tight and eyes flashing with jealousy. “Darling, is everything all right? You seem… distracted.”

Williams straightened, the Alpha mask slamming back into place. “Everything is fine.”

Liora’s gaze slid to Matilda, assessing, suspicious. “Who is this attendant? She looks familiar.”

Matilda bowed her head slightly, playing the part. “Just someone passing through, my lady.”

Williams’s hand clenched at his side. He opened his mouth to speak, but Matilda turned away first, picking up her tray as if the conversation had never happened.

As she walked away, she heard Liora’s voice rise in a hushed, angry whisper. “Williams, what was that about? You’re acting strange.”

Matilda didn’t look back. But she caught his reply, low and strained, carrying just far enough.

“She’s no one. Leave it.”

The words stung more than they should have. She kept walking, weaving through the crowd until she reached the edge of the pavilion.

Elowen waited there, half-hidden in shadow. “The storm is already breaking, I see.”

Matilda stopped beside her. “Perhaps I do need that safe passage after all.”

Elowen’s eyes gleamed. “Wise choice. Meet me at the eastern standing stone at midnight. Bring nothing that can be traced.”

Matilda nodded once. As Elowen slipped away, she allowed herself one final glance toward the Nightshade table.

Williams stared after her, his expression a storm of unresolved emotion. Liora tugged at his arm, demanding attention, but he barely seemed to register her.

Matilda turned and disappeared into the night.

She had planted the seeds.

Now she would watch them take root.

And when they bloomed into chaos, Alpha Williams Draven would finally understand the cost of breaking what was his.