Chapter 3~Council Of Alphas
1220 Words
Lyra’s POV
The morning light came through the high windows of Dad's study in long pale bars, falling across the territorial map that never left his desk. The border markings were fresh, I could see new notations in his handwriting where the eastern perimeter had been redrawn after last week's breach. I stood at parade rest in front of him, hands clasped behind my back. My nerves were already raw from last night, and standing still in a quiet room was not helping.
He was bent over a map of our territories, silver-streaked hair falling forward as he traced border lines with a thick finger. The hot springs outside steamed gently, their mist curling against the glass like fingers trying to get in. I waited. The silence in the room had the particular weight of something already decided.
Finally he straightened, grey eyes, so much like mine, meeting me head-on. No softening, just straight to the point. That was his way.
“Sit, Lyra.”
I didn’t. “I’m good standing.”
A flicker of something, pride, maybe exasperation at my stubbornness, crossed his face before it settled back into his Alpha steel face. He gestured to the chair anyway but I still stayed on my feet.
“The joint council met last night,” he said. “Crimson Fang sent representatives. We’ve lost too many patrols. The Covenant’s attacks are coordinated now, ambushes on both northern and southern borders at once. They’re herding us.”
My stomach tightened. I’d seen the reports. “We can hold. We’ve reinforced the valley passes—”
“We can hold for another season,” he cut in, voice flat. “Maybe two if we’re lucky, but not forever. Not without bleeding ourselves dry.” He paused, jaw working. “There’s only one way to stop us short of annihilation.”
I knew what he wanted to say before he said it. The word alliance had been whispered in the halls for weeks. But knowing about it and hearing it were different things.
“An arranged marriage,” he said. “Between the heirs.”
The air left my lungs in a rush. For a second the study tilted, I gripped the back of the nearest chair to steady myself.
Dad watched me, unblinking. “It will unite the territories fully, combine our forces and share resources with one Alpha pair leading both packs. The Covenant won’t be able to pick us apart.”
My voice came out rough. “Who?”
He didn’t flinch. “Draven Voss.”
The name hit like a blade between the ribs.
Everything narrowed, sound, sight, breath, to that single point of pain. Draven. The boy who’d promised to give me the moon and then vanished like smoke. The future Alpha of Crimson Fang. The one person in this world I swore I’d never let close enough to hurt me again.
“No.” The word tore out of me, sharp and final. “Absolutely not.”
“Lyra—”
“I said no!” My hands slammed onto the desk, knuckles whitening. Maps jumped. “You can’t be serious. After everything, after the war two generations ago, after the border battle that killed Mom’s cousin, after he—” My throat closed. I couldn’t say it. After he abandoned me.
Dad’s expression didn’t change, but his voice dropped, low and dangerous. “This isn’t about personal feelings, Lyra. This is about survival for us and for the pack.”
“Personal feelings?” I laughed, bitter and broken. “He was my best friend, Dad. We were kids together. And one day he just cut me out, no explanation, nothing. Eleven years of silence. You want me to marry that?”
“I want you to live,” he said quietly. “I want every pup in this pack to live. Crimson Fang is offering full alliance—troops, supplies, territory merger. Garrick Voss is ruthless, but he’s realistic. He sees the same threat we do.”
I paced, boots thudding against the rug. The hum in my chest, slightly stronger since the dream, vibrated angrily, like it was reacting to my rage. I ignored it.
“There has to be another way, joint patrols? trade?. We don’t need to chain ourselves to them forever.”
Dad’s eyes hardened. “We’ve tried joint patrols. They end in arguments over command. A marriage binds us in blood. No one backs out of that without losing their image and lives.”
I stopped pacing, staring at him. “You’d force me?”
His silence was answer enough.
My hands shook. I curled them into fists. “I’m your daughter, not a bargaining chip.”
“You’re the future Luna,” he said, voice like stone. “And the Luna puts the pack above herself. Always.”
The words landed heavy, familiar. He’d drilled them into me since I could shift. Duty. Strength. Sacrifice.
But this—this was too much.
I leaned forward, palms flat on the desk again, meeting his gaze without flinching. “Find another way.”
“There isn’t one.” He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to. “The council voted unanimously. The announcement is tonight. You will stand beside me and accept it with grace.”
Grace. The word tasted like ash.
I straightened slowly, every muscle coiled tight. “And if I refuse in front of both packs?”
His eyes darkened. “You won’t. Because you know what’s at stake. Because you’re my daughter, and you’ve never run from a fight.”
I wanted to scream that this wasn’t a fight, it was a cage. Instead I swallowed it down, the way I’d swallowed every hurt since I was thirteen.
The pull twisted inside me, sharper now, like a hook setting deeper. I pressed a fist to my sternum without thinking.
Dad's eyes moved to my hand rubbing my chest. “You’ve been rubbing your chest for days. Have you gone to the Healer to check it out?” He noticed. Of course he will, nothing skips his sight.
“It’s nothing,” I snapped. “Its stress.”
He studied me a moment longer, then sighed, the closest he ever came to softness. “Get some rest before tonight. You’ll need your strength.”
Strength. Right.
I turned on my heel and walked out without another word. The door shut behind me with a quiet click that felt louder than any slam.
In the hallway, I leaned against the cool stone wall, breathing hard. My reflection stared back from a polished shield hung nearby, silver hair wild, eyes too bright, jaw clenched like I was ready to bite.
Draven Voss.
After eleven years, he was coming back into my life whether I wanted it or not.
And I was supposed to marry him.
The hum in my chest flared, hot and insistent, like it recognized the name before I could stop it.
I pushed off the wall and headed for the training grounds. If I was going to face this tonight, I needed to hit something, hard, until the only thing I felt was pain I could control.
Pack survival comes first.
Dad’s words echoed with every step.
I hated how much they sounded like the truth.
- Writer
