Chapter 3
1785 Words
Alpha Henry’s POV
Four Years Later
***
The council chamber smelled like rot.
Not literal rot. The servants kept it clean enough. But there was something dying in this room, and everyone could feel it. Four years since the failed ritual, and the Sterling Shadow Pack was falling apart piece by piece.
I sat at the head of the table, Gommet to my right in her Luna’s chair. She wore dark green today, a color that made her skin look pale. Her fingers drummed against the armrest, an irritated rhythm that grated on my nerves. She hadn’t looked at me once since we entered the room. I am used to this kind of treatment from her.
The council had gathered for our monthly report. Twelve seats, but only ten were filled now. Two elders had died over the winter. Starvation. We couldn’t replace them because there were no suitable candidates left. The curse was spreading.
The grey wolf elder cleared his throat. He looked older than he had four years ago. Frailer. Like the pack’s decay was eating him from the inside. Of course it was eating him from inside.
“The numbers are worse,” he said, his voice thin and shaky. “Fifteen more wolves dropped to omega status this month. We’re losing our workforce faster than we can compensate. Something needs to be done!”
Murmurs around the table.
“How many does that make total?” Somebody asked.
“Two hundred and thirty-seven since the ritual failed,” The grey wolf elder answered. “Strong wolves, capable fighters, all reduced to omega. They can barely lift tools now, let alone weapons. Our border guards are down to half strength. Our hunters can’t keep up with demand. The farmers are failing.”
I said nothing. What was there to say? This was my fault. My curse was spreading through the pack like a disease.
“The crops failed again,” another elder added. “Third year in a row. The fields yield less each season. We’ve had to ration food since autumn.”
“People are starving,” a younger council member said. His name was Aurthur. He’d only been promoted because his predecessor dropped to omega. “Children are dying. How much longer can we sustain this?”
The question hung in the air.
Gommet’s fingers stopped drumming. She leaned forward slightly, her expression cold. “Perhaps if the Alpha had fulfilled his duty four years ago, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
Her words were precise. She means to wound me.
I didn’t flinch. I don’t anymore
“The Luna speaks the truth,” someone else said. “The ritual was performed correctly. The sacrifice was made. But the curse remains.”
“Because the Alpha is weak,” Gommet added. She still wasn’t looking at me. “An Alpha wolf that cannot emerge is no wolf at all. It is an omega in fact.”
Silence settled over the table. No one contradicted her. They used to, in the beginning. Now they just nodded along.
I stared at the far wall and let their words drop on my ears, like raindrops on hard grounds. They were right anyway. I was weak. Cursed. All my ancestors, from my great grandfather to my grandfather, until my father, all of them have broken their alpha curses. Everyone of them, except me.
Movement near the door caught my attention.
Jax leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching the meeting with that same knowing smile he’d worn four years ago. He wasn’t officially part of the council, but no one had told him to leave. They never did. He came and went as he pleased, and people welcomed it.
My brother had grown stronger over the years. Broader in the shoulders, harder in the face. He’d led every successful patrol, won every fight, brought home what little game could still be found and shared it to the pack. The pack loved him. Worshipped him. And he knew it.
Our eyes met across the room. His smile widened, like we were sharing a private joke. The joke was me obviously.
“Perhaps,” Aurthur said carefully, “we should consider alternative leadership.”
The room went very quiet.
Gommet’s head turned toward Aurthur. Not toward me. Toward him. Like she’d been waiting for someone to say it out loud.
“What are you suggesting?” The grey wolf elder asked, but we all knew that he already knew.
“Jax has proven himself capable,” Aurthur continued. “He is strong. The pack follows him willingly. He has his wolf. He can lead us through this crisis. We need an Alpha with his wolf intact. People are dying! My mother died last night!”
People murmured in agreement. Heads nodded. Eyes shifted toward Jax
“The Alpha serves by birthright,” The grey wolf elder said, “Tradition dictates…” there was no conviction in his voice
“Tradition is killing us,” someone interrupted. “We need strength, not birthright. We are cursed. Alpha Henry has not even tried to break the curse in four years now!”
More nods. More murmurs.
I watched it happen like I was already dead. Like I was a ghost sitting in a chair while they discussed my replacement. Maybe I was. Dead
Jax pushed off the wall and walked forward. He moved with confidence and power. When he reached the table, he placed both hands on its surface and leaned in.
“I serve the pack,” he said. His voice was smooth. “However I’m needed.”
It wasn’t a challenge. Not technically. But everyone heard what he wasn’t saying.
What he meant was, ‘I’m ready when you are.’
The meeting dissolved after that. Council members stood and filed out, people nodding respectfully to Jax as they passed. A few glanced at me with something that might have been pity. Most didn’t look at me at all.
Gommet rose from her chair without a word and left. She didn’t wait for me.
Eventually, only Jax and I remained.
He straightened up, that smile still playing on his lips. “Rough meeting, brother.”
I said nothing.
“You look tired,” he continued. “Maybe you should rest. Let someone else handle things for a while.”
“Get out.”
He laughed. Then he turned and walked away, leaving me alone in the rotting council chamber.
I sat there for a long time after everyone left. The sun moved across the sky, throwing shadows through the windows. I watched them crawl across the floor and tried to remember what it felt like to be whole.
Two days, I sat there. I didn’t eat. I didn’t drink. I didn’t move. Nobody came to make me move. This wasn’t the first time I stayed at a place for days.
Nova’s face appeared in the shadow.
I blinked, and she was gone.
Then she was back, flickering in and out like candlelight. Her eyes stared at me from the darkness.
“Nova?” I whispered.
She didn’t answer. She never did. But she kept appearing. In shadows, in reflections, in the corner of my vision.
Her ghost started moving. I stood up too fast. I needed to move along with her ghost.
The palace halls were quiet as I wandered through them. Most people avoid me these days. I’d catch servants ducking into side rooms when they saw me coming. Guards looked away when I passed. Even the children knew to keep their distance from the Mad Alpha.
That’s what they called me now. I’d heard it enough times.
The Mad Omega Alpha.
A ruler with no wolf. A husband with no heir. A man with no future, even his Luna , rejects him.
I turned a corner and nearly walked into a young servant girl. She froze, eyes wide with fear.
“Alpha, I…”
“It’s fine,” I said with a rough voice.. “Go.”
She practically ran.
I kept walking, following that ghost. I felt weaker and weaker as I moved.
“You’re dead,” I told the ghost.
She turned and walked away.
I followed.
I knew it wasn’t real. I knew I was losing my mind. But I followed anyway because what else was I supposed to do? Sit in that council chamber while they planned my replacement? Pretend I didn’t see her every time I closed my eyes?
She led me through the palace, always just out of reach. I chased her shadow like a man drowning.
“My blood will remember,” I muttered. Her words. The last thing she’d said before dying. “My blood will remember. My blood will remember.”
I didn’t realize I was repeating it out loud until I heard a voice from behind me, “The mad Omega Alpha!”
The voice turned voices, voices of the servants. They always whisper like that when I am having my crisis.
I ignored them and I kept moving. “I’m going mad,” I said to no one. “But she said her blood will remember”
“Yes,” a voice seemed to float into my ears
A door appeared on my left. Light spilled from underneath it, and I heard voices inside. Low. Intimate.
Nova’s shadow flickered and disappeared.
I stopped walking. The voices were clearer now. A man and a woman. The woman laughed at something, breathy and pleased.
I knew that laugh.
My hand touched the door. I should have kept walking, but I pushed it open, just a c***k.
The room inside was dimly lit. A sitting room I recognized. One of Gommet’s private spaces.
She was there, her dark green dress laying on the floor beside the couch. Jax had her pressed against the cushions, his hand tangled in her hair, his mouth on her throat. She arched into him, gasping his name.
“You’re so much stronger than him,” she breathed. “So much better.”
Jax laughed against her skin. “Tell me what you want.”
“You. I want you.”
I watched them for exactly three seconds. Then I closed the door.
My hand didn’t shake. My heart didn’t race. I felt nothing.
I’d known about their affair for months. Maybe longer. It wasn’t hard to figure out. The nights she smelled like him when she returned.
I’d said nothing because what was the point? She hated me. I couldn’t bl
ame her. I hated myself too.
I turned away from the door and kept walking. My footsteps echoed down the empty hall. Behind me, Gommet’s laughter floated through the cracks,
- Writer
