The memory slammed shut inside Ronan's mind.
The trees, the clearing, the scent of pine—they all snapped back into place like a world reassembling around him. He exhaled slowly, grounding himself in the present instead of the past.
Hailey stood a few feet away, arms folded, her expression sharp with understanding.
Colton hovered behind her, worry fading the moment Ronan blinked.
"You back with us?" Hailey asked quietly.
Ronan rolled his shoulders. "I never left."
Colton huffed out a shaky breath. "Could've fooled us."
Ronan ignored the comment. The ground beneath his feet still held the echo of the fight—the crush of earth where Crowe fell, the faint tang of blood, the lingering pressure of too many Alphas gathered in one place.
Crowe was dead.
And with his death, everything changed.
Ronan wasn't just the Alpha of Texas anymore.
He was now the Alpha of New Mexico as well.
The first Alpha in recorded history to claim a second state through formal combat.
No alliance.
No merger.
No inheritance.
No marriage pact.
A clean, brutal Challenge—
executed flawlessly—
recognized by every Alpha who witnessed it.
Even the Trees around the Nemeton felt different now, humming faintly with the shockwave of dominance that still clung to the clearing like static.
Hailey stepped beside him. "The Chairs are waiting."
Ronan didn't move. His gaze remained steady on the space where Crowe died.
"They'll wait longer," he said.
Hailey smirked. "I figured you'd say that."
Colton shifted nervously. "Alpha… you're about to become something bigger than all of them. Bigger than the Council."
Ronan didn't respond.
He hadn't killed Crowe to prove anything.
He hadn't taken a second state for power.
He'd done it because Crowe challenged him—and Ronan didn't lose Challenges.
Ever.
"Let's go," he finally said.
They walked across the clearing, the few remaining emissaries whispering among themselves, their eyes following him with the kind of quiet dread only humans who lived beside monsters ever carried.
Hailey leaned in close enough that only he could hear. "They're scared."
"They should be," Ronan replied.
Colton swallowed.
The Chairs—five Alphas who represented the five largest, most stable state territories—stood waiting near the ancient stump. Their seconds and emissaries formed a respectful semicircle behind them.
Five powerful Alphas.
Five long-standing rulers.
Five leaders who had never expected a sixth to rise—
and certainly not like this.
One Chair stepped forward, the Colorado Alpha, a tall man with grey streaks in his beard and eyes that had seen decades of leadership.
"Alpha Vael," he said formally. "The Council acknowledges a shift in power."
Ronan met his gaze without bowing.
"Texas now holds New Mexico," the Chair continued. "You are the first Alpha in history to rule two territories through open Challenge. This must be formally recognized."
Another Chair, the Arizona Alpha, crossed her arms. "It will force a restructuring of the Council. There has never been a sixth seat."
A ripple of murmurs passed through their entourages.
Colton straightened behind Ronan.
Hailey's smirk sharpened.
Ronan showed no reaction.
"If you intend to maintain New Mexico," the Utah Alpha said carefully, "you will need to appoint deputies on both borders. Two states. Twice the responsibility."
"Then I'll handle it," Ronan said.
The Chairs exchanged glances.
The Nevada Alpha's emissary whispered something urgently in his ear. The Alpha waved her off and addressed Ronan directly.
"You understand what this means, yes? You are no longer a regional power. You are a threat. The kind that forces neighboring Alphas to consider alliances… or defense."
Ronan stepped closer, eyes cold.
"If any of them try either, they can find me."
Silence rippled through the clearing.
Hailey bit back a grin.
Colton almost choked.
The Chairs looked at one another, some annoyed, some impressed, some afraid.
Finally, the Colorado Alpha nodded slowly.
"Then by Council authority, we recognize your claim. Texas and New Mexico fall under your name."
A weight settled over the clearing.
Not fear.
Not respect.
Acknowledgment.
Recognition of something the Council had never seen before.
Ronan Vael wasn't just an Alpha.
He wasn't a ruler.
He wasn't even a political anomaly.
He was the beginning of something new—
a leader who rose through survival, not inheritance,
built from trauma rather than spark,
and capable of changing the system just by existing.
The Colorado Alpha gestured toward the Nemeton stump. "The next step is to discuss your seat on the—"
"I didn't come here for a chair," Ronan said.
"You may not have," the Arizona Alpha replied, "but history doesn't always care what we want."
Ronan said nothing.
Hailey smiled.
Colton looked like he might pass out.
The emissaries whispered harder than before.
And the Clearing—the ancient ground where prediction and precedent meant everything—held its breath.
Because Ronan Vael had broken precedent.
And the world was going to feel it.