The Wolfless Queen

CHAPTER 2

The council hall of the regional Alphas was never meant to hold peace. Even on calm days, the stone chamber felt charged, like the walls remembered old wars and waited for new ones. Lights burned along the perimeter, crackling against the tension in the room. Ten Alphas stood around the circular table, voices already rising before the meeting even began.

Alpha Rowan of Ridgefall slammed his palm down first. “Three reports since dawn. Three. Rogues attack, kill, and then stop like someone pulled a string. How are we supposed to plan for something like that?”

Alpha Merin from Northgrove frowned deeply. “They froze. They bowed. They obeyed. Rogues do not obey. They barely have minds left after years alone.”

“You think we do not know that?” Rowan shot back. “My border pack watched them kneel like someone ordered them to. No voice. No scent. Not a damn whisper.”

The room stirred. Some wolves muttered under their breath. Others avoided each other’s eyes. Fear always made leaders suspicious, and tonight it was crawling through the council like a living thing.

The oldest Alpha, Senna of the Silverpine territory, cleared her throat. “We have more than Ridgefall’s report. Stormhold sent scouts. Their warriors were attacked two nights ago. Same pattern. Rogues came in violently, bodies shaking, eyes white. Then they froze in the middle of their kill.”

“And then what?” an Alpha asked.

“They backed away,” Senna said. “Quiet. Obedient. Like soldiers falling into formation.”

A low hush spread over the room.

Alpha Jace of Riverfall spoke next, frustration twisting through his voice. “Fine. They stepped back. So who commanded them? What has that kind of control?”

Before anyone answered, the messenger returned with the newest report. His hands trembled as he placed it on the table. “This one is from Ironwood. Same behavior. Rogues shook like they were in pain. Then a shadow appeared behind them. Tall. Could not be identified. The rogues dropped to their knees.”

Rowan grabbed the paper, scanned it, then looked up with eyes darkened by disbelief. “The scout wrote a line in here. He wrote it twice. Maybe out of shock. It says, and I quote, they bowed to their King.”

Murmurs exploded into voices.

“King? What King?”

“Rogues have no King.”

“Rogues barely have names.”

“Who would follow a rogue?”

“They do not follow anyone.”

But three separate scouting reports said the same thing. The words cut through the chamber like knives.

A ROGUE KING.

Alpha Merin rubbed a hand over his face. “If the rogues crowned a leader, we have a bigger problem than sickness.”

Jace narrowed his eyes. “Are we sure the rogues crowned him? What if someone else forced them?”

“No one forces rogues,” Rowan said. “If someone did, they are not using normal power.”

The room fell quiet again.

A healer, invited for testimony, stepped forward. Her cloak brushed the ground as she placed a sealed folder on the table. “If I may speak, Alphas. The symptoms described in your reports bear signs of early moon sickness.”

Alpha Senna shook her head. “Moon sickness? That spreads slowly and only affects wolves with weakened minds. Rogues do not get it in packs. They get it one by one.”

The healer nodded. “Correct. But you are not facing normal moon sickness. The silver veins, the shaking, the snapping jaws, the loss of instinct, the pain spikes. Everything lines up. Except for one thing.”

“What thing?” Rowan asked.

“They should be dying. Not attacking. And certainly not kneeling in unison.”

Unease crept around the room.

Alpha Merin leaned forward. “Then what are we dealing with? A sickness or a King?”

The healer raised her eyes. “Possibly both. If the sickness is spreading through the region, the rogues might be drawn to something that eases their pain. Or someone.”

Jace scoffed. “So a King heals them? Since when do rogues have healers?”

The healer did not flinch. “I did not say he heals them. I said something pulls them. Something they obey. Something they bow to because it brings their bodies a sense of… relief.”

The word hit the room like a punch. A rogue finding relief? How?

A younger Alpha spoke up sharply. “If they carry moon sickness and move across our borders, they could spread it. My territory has pups. I will not risk letting infected rogues wander close.”

“We cannot treat them like a normal army,” Senna said. “They are sick. They are controlled. And they are growing in number.”

“Then we kill the King,” Rowan said. “Remove the leader, break the horde.”

Jace exhaled loudly. “Fine idea. One problem. We cannot find him. Everyone sees a shadow with no features. No scent. No aura. What are we supposed to track if the creature leaves no trace?”

Senna answered quietly. “We send someone who does not need scent.”

Silence fell. It was the kind of silence that meant every Alpha in the room knew exactly who she referred to.

Alpha Rowan nodded. “Adam.”

It was not a question. The entire council shifted with the weight of the name.

Adam Thorn. The lone hunter. A wolf who tracked by instinct alone. No pack ties. No alliances. No loyalties except to the mission he accepted. He hunted traitors, rogue leaders, deserters, and criminals who slipped through the cracks of normal tracking methods.

If a wolf left a trail, Adam found it. If a wolf did not leave a trail, Adam still found it. The door at the back of the chamber opened.

Adam stepped inside without a sound, his presence immediately shifting the tension. He was broad shouldered, sharp eyed, and carried a calm that made most wolves uneasy. He moved with quiet confidence, not arrogance. His boots barely scuffed the stone floor. His simple dark clothes looked out of place among the decorated coats of the Alphas, but no one dared comment.

Rowan spoke first. “You got our message.”

“I came when I saw the smoke signal,” Adam said. His voice was steady, low. “What do you need?”

Senna slid the three reports toward him. “Rogues attacking in coordinated patterns. Rogues obeying a shadow. Reports call him a King.”

Adam did not react, but his eyes sharpened slightly.

Jace crossed his arms. “We need someone to find the King. Someone who does not lose trails. Someone who hunts alone.”

Adam read through the documents slowly. When he finished, he set them down.

“So the command is simple,” he said. “Find the King.”

Rowan nodded. “Find him. Kill him. Bring the region back under control.”

Adam gave one short nod. “I will track him.”

The council released a collective breath, as if the moment Adam accepted the mission, the burden shifted.

He turned and began to leave. His footsteps echoed across the hall.

That was when the temperature dropped. A shadow moved along the outside window. Not creeping. Not hiding. Tall. Thin. Watching.

Adam froze mid step. His eyes flicked toward the window, sharp and instinctive. Half the Alphas turned with him, catching only the last glimpse of something slipping out of sight.

“What was that?” Jace breathed.

Senna shook her head slowly. “Not a rogue. Too tall.”

Rowan exhaled. “Does your King watch us already?”

Adam said nothing. He stared at the empty window a moment longer, his wolf rising just beneath the surface. Something about the shadow felt wrong. Not typical fear wrong. Not typical danger wrong.

Like something that had survived the world long before wolves existed. Adam finally turned away.

“I will find it,” he said quietly.

Then he walked out of the chamber. But every Alpha in the room felt the same chill. Something had watched him leave.

Something bold enough to stand inches from the strongest wolves in the region. Something that did not fear them at all. And whatever it was, it wanted Adam to know it was there.

The hunt had already begun.