POV: Ronan Montague
The pack council chamber smelled like old leather and older grudges.
I stood at attention in front of twelve stern faces, my father's coldest of all. The marble floor beneath my boots was the same stone where my mother had stood for her Luna ceremony eighteen years ago. Back when this room had felt warm. Back when my father had smiled.
"Explain yourself." Dad's voice cut through the silence like a blade.
My hands curled into fists at my sides. "I said the plan was murder, not justice."
Elder Blackwood leaned forward, his weathered face twisted with disapproval. "You question the council's decision to eliminate the Capulet pups?"
"They're teenagers." I forced myself to meet his gaze. "Killing kids at a peace meeting isn't strategy. It's slaughter."
The temperature in the room dropped. Several council members exchanged glances. My father's jaw tightened, a muscle jumping beneath his skin.
"Your mother's softness has infected you." Dad stood, his Alpha presence filling every corner of the chamber. "This is exactly why the council questions your fitness to lead."
The words hit harder than any physical blow.
"My mother," I said quietly, "died defending innocents. She wouldn't want me leading a massacre."
"Your mother died because she showed mercy to our enemies." Dad's golden eyes flashed. "The Capulets rewarded her compassion with a silver blade between her ribs. You were twelve. Perhaps you need reminding."
I didn't need reminding. I saw it every time I closed my eyes. Mom's blood soaking into the treaty grounds. The Capulet Beta disappearing into the tree line. The way Dad howled until his voice broke.
"I remember." My wolf clawed at my ribs, demanding I challenge him, demanding I prove my strength. I shoved the instinct down. "But becoming murderers doesn't honor her memory."
"Enough." Beta Sarah, my aunt, spoke from her seat near the window. Her voice held the careful diplomacy that had kept her alive through decades of pack politics. "The boy has a point. Assassinating younglings at a neutral territory meeting would violate the Lunar Covenant. We'd lose allies."
"We don't need allies when our enemies are dead," Elder Blackwood snapped.
The argument erupted. Voices rose, claws extended, the council fracturing into factions. I watched my father's face harden further with each passing second. This was my fault. I'd questioned him publicly, undermined his authority in front of the pack's leadership.
Some Alpha heir I was turning out to be.
Dad raised his hand. Silence fell instantly.
"The council will vote on Ronan's concern." His tone made it clear what he thought of my "concern." "All in favor of postponing the Capulet elimination?"
Three hands rose. Sarah's and two others.
"All opposed?"
Nine hands.
My stomach dropped.
"The motion fails." Dad turned to me with eyes colder than a January moon. "As for you, it's clear that Moonrise Academy has openings for senior year. The council agrees your education is... incomplete."
I stared at him. "You're sending me away?"
"We're giving you an opportunity." Elder Blackwood's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Learn proper Alpha priorities. Overcome your mother's soft influence. Prove you can lead with logic instead of sentiment."
"And if I refuse?"
"Then we'll discuss naming Marcus's nephew as heir." Dad's words were carefully measured. Final. "Your cousin would be honored to serve the pack's interests."
The threat landed exactly as intended. Everything I'd trained for, every sacrifice I'd made, every brutal lesson in leadership, all of it meant nothing if I couldn't fall in line.
My wolf snarled inside my chest. He wanted to challenge, to fight, to prove our dominance. But that's exactly what they expected. What they wanted. Proof that I was ruled by emotion instead of intellect.
I'd lose either way.
"When do I leave?" The words tasted like ash.
"Two weeks." Sarah's expression held sympathy she couldn't voice. "I'll make the arrangements."
Dad dismissed me with a wave. I turned and walked toward the door, my spine straight, my head high. I wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing me break.
"Ronan." My father's voice stopped me at the threshold. "Your mother would be disappointed in the man you're becoming."
I didn't turn around. Couldn't. If I looked at him right now, I might do something that would prove every doubt they had about me.
"Yeah," I managed. "She'd be disappointed in both of us."
I left before he could respond.
The garage was my refuge. Cold concrete, the smell of motor oil, the reliable purr of engines that didn't judge or demand or expect anything except regular maintenance.
I grabbed my helmet and swung onto my motorcycle. The vintage leather jacket I'd worn since I was sixteen hung on its hook, my grandfather's initials still visible on the collar despite years of wear. I pulled it on, feeling the familiar weight settle across my shoulders.
The engine roared to life. Too loud. Too aggressive. Everything I couldn't be in that council chamber.
"Wait." Sarah appeared in the garage doorway, her arms crossed against the evening chill. "Don't do anything stupid."
"Too late." I revved the throttle. "Apparently questioning murder plots is stupid."
She walked closer, her Beta instincts making her movements careful, non-threatening. When she reached my bike, she placed one hand on the handlebar.
"Your mother would be proud of you."
My throat tightened. "Dad said—"
"Your father says a lot of things when he's grieving." Her eyes held the same golden shade as Mom's had. "He loved her more than anything in this world. Losing her broke something fundamental in him. He chose revenge over healing."
"And I'm choosing weakness over strength."
"No." Sarah's grip on the handlebar tightened. "You're choosing humanity over monstrosity. That takes more courage than any battle."
I wanted to believe her. Desperately.
"Moonrise Academy could be good for you," she continued. "Distance from the pack politics. Time to figure out what kind of leader you want to be, not what kind they expect."
"Or it could be exile disguised as education."
"Maybe." She smiled sadly. "But exile has a way of clarifying priorities. Your mother wanted you to find happiness, not just revenge. Maybe you'll find that at Moonrise."
I doubted it. From what I'd heard, Moonrise was just pack politics in a prettier setting. Alpha heirs jockeying for position, ancient feuds playing out in academic hallways, future marriages being negotiated over lunch tables.
And worst of all, the Capulet pack had enrolled their daughter this year.
The enemy I was supposed to hate. The family that had taken everything from me.
"I should go." I pulled on my helmet, muffling Sarah's voice as she continued speaking. I couldn't hear her advice right now. Couldn't process her sympathy without breaking down completely.
I gunned the throttle and shot out of the garage into the Oregon twilight. The forest road stretched empty before me, offering the only kind of peace I could find these days. Speed. Movement. The illusion of escape.
My wolf howled inside my chest, furious at being caged by politics and propriety. He wanted to shift, to run, to hunt something that couldn't demand impossible choices.
But Alphas didn't get to run from their responsibilities. Even when those responsibilities felt like shackles slowly crushing the life out of us.
I pushed the motorcycle faster. The trees blurred past. The wind cut through my jacket. And for just a moment, I let myself imagine a life where I wasn't the Montague heir. Where I could make my own choices. Fall in love with whomever I wanted. Lead with compassion instead of calculated cruelty.
Where my mother's death meant something more than justification for endless revenge.
Two weeks until Moonrise Academy.
Two weeks to figure out how to be the leader my pack needed without losing the person my mother had raised me to be.
Two weeks until everything changed in ways I couldn't possibly anticipate.