Lucien.
The pack was restless.
I had sensed it long before the council gathered—felt it in the tension rising beneath my skin, in the agitation of my wolf, in the whispers that traveled faster than truth through the pack. Winter always made wolves feel uneasy. The cold stripped us of most our sanity, sharpened our instincts, and made our emotions harder to bury.
But this winter was different.
It carried change—change that the pack was not ready for.
I sat at the head of the stone table, my fingers curling slowly into a fist against its icy surface. I kept my expression neutral as my gaze swept across the elders seated before me. On their faces, age had etched lines, folds and scars which showed the kind of lives each of them had live. Still, all the wisdom they had accumulated could not help them suppress their discontent towards me.
These were wolves who had witnessed generations of alphas rising and falling, through wars and through famine. Their experience earned my respect—but respect did not mean submission. The world had changed, and their ways had not kept pace.
I leaned back, arms crossing over my chest.
"You called this meeting," I said calmly. "Speak."
Elder Madrin rose first, clearing his throat. His silver hair gleamed under the soft glow of the lit candles, and in his sharp eyes, irritation which he could barely hide lingered.
"The pack is unstable, Alpha," he stated while holding my gaze.
A low murmur rippled through the council.
"Our borders are secure," I replied. "Patrols are strong. No breaches have been reported."
"That is not what concerns us," Elder Yva interjected, her amber eyes narrowing. "The wolves are restless. Younglings are growing reckless. Tempers flare when left unchecked. You feel it too, do you not?"
I did.
As Alpha, I felt everything—every spike of anger, every restless shift, every pulse of unease threading through the pack bond. And beneath it all, my wolf stirred.
They feel her, it murmured. Even if they do not know what they feel yet.
Claim her.
I forced it down, steadied my breath while refusing to yield—neither to the elders nor to my wolf.
"Young wolves have always been ruled by instinct," I said evenly. "It is nothing new."
"Instincts become dangerous when ignored," Madrin snapped. "The pack needs a Luna."
Silence slammed into the room. That is what they wanted to say all along. This was the main agenda for the gathering. It bored me how they always circled around this same issue.
Every gaze fell on me.
Hearing the word that it so desperately sought, my wolf stirred violently—its claws scraped against bone, demanding release.
Claim. It said again.
Once more, I forced it down.
"You do not get to demand that," I said quietly.
Elder Yva leaned forward. "We demand nothing, Lucien. We only warn."
Another elder spoke, her tone gentler. "You have searched for your fated mate for many years. But some wolves never find theirs. That is why choices are made. The pack has endured long enough without a Luna."
My jaw tightened.
"Many of us chose," Madrin continued. "And we became stronger for making that choice. You are not immortal, Alpha. The pack cannot wait forever."
I closed my eyes briefly.
I could have told them the truth, there and then. I could have ended the discussion with a single sentence. I could have spared us all of the constant nagging.
But they, were not ready for it.
They would never accept a hybrid Luna. They would reject her—question her blood, her strength, her worth. And when they could not touch me because I was too strong for them, they would bare their fangs on her.
And that, I would not allow.
My mate was not ready—not emotionally, not mentally. She was already scarred by change, burdened by fear, and drowning in expectations she did not ask for.
Another blow would shatter her.
"Give me time," I said at last.
The words tasted like surrender—but they were for her.
I needed to buy her time even if it meant submitting a little. My mate needed time—for her to grow and for her to get familiar with what she had become.
Elder Yva frowned. "How much time, Alpha?"
"You have waited this long," I replied coolly. "A little longer will not kill you."
"A Luna strengthens the pack," Madrin pressed. "Your hesitation weakens it."
I straightened, fingers lacing together as I let my pheromones seep out and surge through the room.
"My restraint is the only thing holding this pack together."
The elders stiffened.
"I value your concern," I continued evenly. "But I will not be rushed into decisions that could destroy us all."
The silence that followed was heavy. My restraint was thinning and I knew they could sense it.
"Enough."
Elder Zora finally spoke.
She had been quiet for weeks—since opposing the council and bringing her hybrid granddaughter home. She had retreated deliberately, shielding Amara from scrutiny.
And now, she was finally speaking up.
"Lucien has been an exemplary Alpha," she said calmly. "None here can deny it."
Some elders nodded. Others refused to meet her gaze.
"If he asks for time, we owe him that much," she continued. "Eight years without a Luna, and the pack still stands. What is a few more months?"
Elder Yva scoffed. "And if he drags this on for years?"
"Six months," I said.
The words surprised even me.
Zora's eyes widened slightly—but she did not object.
"Give me six months."
The council reluctantly accepted it. Tension lingered, but the meeting dissolved before tempers flared further.
I left immediately.
The moment I reached the woods, my wolf rushed forward, demanding freedom. I gave it willingly.
Bones cracked, and soon fur tore through my skin. I transformed soon after.
My shift was violent—and absolutely necessary.
I ran until the cold burned my lungs clean, until the noise in my head faded into clarity. Only then did I shift back, dressing in the clothes left at the usual spot by Kael, my beta.
Night had fallen by the time I reached the training grounds.
Kael stood beneath a torch, inspecting the area.
At my approaching presence, he turned and glanced at me.
"You look ready to start a war."
"Maybe I should," I muttered.
He chuckled. "The elders?"
"Fucking relentless."
"Training begins tomorrow," he said. "Elder Zora signed her up."
I neared a nearby bench and sat heavily on it. Then, I lifted my gaze up at the darkened sky.
"Be firm," I said. "She may look frail but don't underestimate her. Women from her bloodline are… formidable."
Kael sat beside me. "She's half human."
I laughed quietly.
"Do not make the mistake of taking her lightly," I said. "She is my mate."
I looked away, voice hardening.
"Watch her closely."
Kael stiffened. "You're worried she'll lose control."
"Yes," I replied immediately. "Elder Zora did not tell me the details, but I learnt her first transformation was quite chaotic."
"I see…but what do you suppose will happen if she loses control?"
I met his gaze.
"The pack will not forgive her," I replied plainly.
"And you?"
"I won't forgive myself."