Chapter Three
1296 Words
I started toward them.
The celebration roared behind me, but I barely registered it. My attention zeroed in on Zephyra and Ryker...two figures at the edge of the firelight, suspended in the kind of tension that didn’t need words to sting. Ryker leaned just a little too close, talking low, casual, like he hadn’t just tried to rewrite tradition in front of every elder. Zephyra was listening, still, unreadable. I didn’t like it.
My stride quickened. Three steps in, though, a firm hand clapped down on my shoulder.
“Dax!”
I turned, trying not to snap.
Elias, Alpha of the Stormbend Pack, stood there, grinning beneath his silver-streaked beard. He was one of the oldest leaders, a man who had seen four transitions of power and led his pack through two wars and three droughts. He looked at me like I was a future he’d gambled on and won.
“You made your father proud tonight,” he said. “Hell, you made all of us proud.”
I nodded, the muscles in my jaw stiff. “Thank you. I intend to live up to it.”
He gave a short chuckle and offered his forearm for the traditional grip. I met it out of respect, though my eyes were already moving past him. Searching.
Zephyra’s stance hadn’t shifted. Still folded arms. Still unreadable. And Ryker, he wasn’t looking at me. Not anymore. He’d made his point.
“Don’t let the old bulls keep you too long,” Elias said with a wink. “She’s waiting.”
I stepped around him, more purposeful now. But barely ten feet later, someone else called out.
“Alpha Dax!” Althea, the Riverstone herbalist, emerged from the crowd like moss from the stone, quiet but ever-present. She was wrapped in thick furs with wooden beads jangling softly in her braids, her weathered face calm.
She pressed a bundle of cloth into my hands. Sage and poppyroot. Tied with a blue thread.
“A blessing,” she murmured. “From our seers. For guidance and clarity.”
I accepted it respectfully, bowing my head. “I’m honored.”
She nodded once, her gaze lingering. “The fire burns brightest when the forest is still. Remember that.”
It was one of those strange things Riverstone seers said. Cryptic, haunting, and usually relevant later.
I tucked the bundle into the inner fold of my cloak and continued forward, but I was being pulled again. This time by younger wolves, barely old enough to have earned their hunter markings.
“Alpha!” one of them beamed, eyes wide. “That was epic! The altar, the blood oath, the howl—”
“Epic,” echoed the other. “Will you train us one day?”
I offered a faint smile, crouching to their level briefly. “Train hard, keep your bond to your pack, and yes. One day, you’ll stand where I did.”
They grinned like I’d handed them a prophecy. I moved past them quickly.
The crowd was thick now, drums rising, people dancing, feasting, howling. Platters of roasted venison and root vegetables passed between hands, spirits poured, stories spilled. Pitchers filled with wine and beer circulated like rivers of celebration.
But I wasn’t part of that. Not tonight.
I saw Zephyra move slightly, just a half-step away from Ryker toward the edge of the clearing where the trees swallowed sound. Her silhouette sharpened in the firelight, strong, proud, but something behind it was…quieter.
Ryker stood angled toward her, loose but calculated. Every line in his posture screamed manipulation masked as charm.
I reached them.
“Enjoying the attention?” I said, voice low and clipped.
Ryker turned slowly, the smirk already blooming across his face. “Just catching up with an old friend,” he said smoothly.
Zephyra didn’t look at either of us. She stared into the flames, arms crossed tightly against her chest, jaw set in that way that said she was thinking hard but refusing to show it.
“Seems you’re struggling with boundaries,” I told Ryker, stepping forward just enough to make clear he wasn’t welcome.
His smile stayed pinned in place. “I speak where I’m welcomed. If she wanted me gone, she’d say so.”
“She shouldn’t have to,” I snapped. “You know better.”
Ryker leaned back like the insult rolled off him, but his eyes narrowed. “You’re Alpha now, Dax. Start thinking like one.”
“Then act like a subordinate,” I retorted. “Before I remind you what the hierarchy looks like up close.”
He chuckled low, calculated. “Don't forget my lineage, Dax.Congratulations, by the way. Beautiful ceremony.” He looked at me with a mocking smirk.
“Noted.” My tone was cold, final.
He winked at Zephyra and stepped back, just enough to slip into the crowd again. Like he hadn’t just dropped poison into an otherwise sacred night.
I turned to Zephyra.
She didn’t speak.
“You all right?” I asked, softly.
Her eyes flicked to mine. “I’m fine.”
I stepped closer. “I saw you hesitate.”
She stiffened almost imperceptibly. “Don’t start.”
“You didn’t move right away.”
“I needed a second,” she said.
“A second to what?”
“To think.”
“To think about him?”
She let out a breath, half frustration, half weariness. “No. To think about whether punching him during the ceremony would qualify as treason.”
My lips twitched in a smirk, despite myself. “I’d have backed you.”
“I know. You always loved my left hook.”
“Still the best in the region.”
She smiled faintly, but the flicker behind her eyes hadn’t left. “He knows exactly what lines to press. He’s never cared about bonds or respect or laws. He only ever cared about claiming.”
“Claiming power,” I said. “And you.”
“And your mood,” she added with a smirk that didn't quite reach her eyes.
We stood in that shadowed edge of the gathering, the flicker of firelight behind us casting long shapes on the earth. The roar of the ceremony continued, howls, music, laughter, but it all sounded distant now. Like echoes of a world that had momentarily forgotten there was still a threat nearby. One that didn’t wear claws, but words.
“I’m yours,” I said, quiet and direct.
She held my gaze. “I know. But now that you’re Alpha… it changes things.”
“How?”
Her fingers curled slightly at her sides. “Now it’s not just emotional. It’s political.”
I stepped closer, reached for her hand.
She hesitated, then let me take her hand.
“Let them watch,” I said. “Let him watch. We know what this is. They don’t get to define it.”
“But they’ll try,” she said.
“I’ll shut them down.”
Her mouth tightened, but she nodded. Just once.
Behind us, the drums surged again. The ritual chant rolled into its final verse. Warriors lifted their arms to the night sky in a crescendo of unity, strength, legacy. But for me, the moment wasn’t up there, it was right here, in the still tension between Zephyra and me. And what Ryker had started.
She leaned her head slightly toward mine. “Don’t let him ruin this.”
“He won’t.”
“Promise me.”
I brushed my thumb over the inside of her wrist. “I promise.” I placed a soft kiss on her forehead, a silent promise between us.
"C'mon, beautiful. Let's join the others. I think some wine is needed to lift the mood."
- Writer
