Chapter 43
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Chapter 43
Damon pov
The council chamber was exactly as intimidating as I remembered from childhood, high-ceilinged and formal, a long curved table where twelve senior pack members sat facing the center of the room, my father already seated at a smaller desk to one side, looking entirely too composed for a man about to argue his own son out of succession.
I took my seat at the opposing desk, Callum settling into the chair just behind me, and forced myself to breathe steadily as the council’s eldest member, a stern grey-haired woman named Helena who’d served on this body since before I was born, called the session to order.
My father was smug. I recognized it immediately in the set of his shoulders, the faint, satisfied curve at the corner of his mouth as he glanced my way once before turning his attention fully to the council. He’d built this case over two full days, had clearly convinced himself the outcome was already decided, and something about that certainty made my own resolve harden further, refusing to let his confidence rattle me the way it once would have.
“This session is called to address concerns regarding pack stability and succession integrity,” Helena said, her voice carrying easily through the chamber. “Alpha Cross, you may present your petition.”
My father stood, straightening his jacket with practiced ease, and began speaking with the kind of measured, authoritative calm that had commanded rooms like this for thirty years.
“Council members, I come before you with genuine reluctance,” he began, and I had to fight the urge to scoff at the performed sincerity in his voice. “My son’s personal circumstances have created significant instability within this pack over the last eight months. An heir born outside pack lands, to a mother who fled without proper cause, raised entirely outside the traditions and structure this pack depends on for continuity.”
“Without proper cause,” I repeated under my breath, low enough that only Callum could hear, anger already simmering beneath my carefully controlled exterior.
My father continued, unbothered, laying out his argument with practiced precision. “Alpha tradition exists for good reason. A Luna’s role isn’t simply personal-it’s structural, foundational to how this pack maintains order and continuity across generations. When a Luna abandons that role, whatever her personal grievances, it creates a vacuum this pack cannot afford to leave unaddressed.”
He paused, letting that settle, before continuing with something colder underneath his measured tone. “I’m concerned, frankly, about Evelyn’s stability. A woman who fled without warning, who has spent eight months isolated from pack support during a pregnancy, who struck a pack member in a public display of violence before she ever left-these aren’t the actions of someone equipped to eventually assume the responsibilities of Luna. I say this with genuine sympathy for whatever she’s experienced, but sympathy doesn’t change the practical reality of what this pack requires.”
I felt my jaw tighten, fury building steadily beneath my composed exterior. Painting Evelyn as unstable, as though her leaving had been some irrational break rather than the direct, entirely reasonable consequence of my own catastrophic failure-it was exactly the kind of manipulation I should have expected, and exactly the kind that made my blood boil regardless.
“May I respond,” I said, standing before Helena had fully finished acknowledging my father’s statement.
“You’ll have your opportunity,” Helena said, not unkindly, gesturing for my father to continue.
He did, laying out formal recommendations-a petition to have me evaluated for fitness to inherit unless Evelyn and Willow returned to pack lands within the week, provisions for “appropriate integration” that made my skin crawl with exactly what I suspected they actually meant, references to precedent from decades past that framed
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Chapter 43
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his entire argument in the comfortable, familiar language of tradition rather than what it actually was underneath.
By the time he finally sat back down, several council members were nodding slowly, exactly the reaction he’d clearly been counting on.
“Alpha-elect Cross,” Helena said, turning to me. “You may respond.”
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