Alexander's POV
The first thing I noticed as consciousness returned was the scent of wolfsbane lingering in my nostrils, a bitter reminder of how close I'd come to death. The second was Marcus Grey's steady presence beside my bed, his silver-streaked hair and diplomatic bearing unchanged by the years since we'd first met.
"The Silver Moon Pack is moving," he said without preamble, his voice low and urgent. "They're watching your territory, Alexander. This attack during the ceremony... it wasn't random."
I closed my eyes, memories washing over me like a dark tide. How many times had we been here before? How many times had Richard Sterling's ambition threatened everything we'd built?
The weight of the past pressed down on me, and suddenly I was back there, decades ago, when the Ebony Pack was nothing but a desperate dream...
[Flashback]
I was young then, barely twenty, serving as an enforcer for the Silver Moon Pack. My father held the same position, trusted by Richard Sterling despite being from a lesser bloodline. We were the ones who carried out the Alpha King's will, who maintained order through force.
But order, I learned, was just another word for tyranny.
I still remember the first time I questioned my role. A small pack of wandering wolves had settled too close to Silver Moon territory. Standard procedure was to drive them out or eliminate them. But when we arrived, we found no warriors – just families, pups, elderly wolves too weak to travel far.
"They're a threat to our supremacy," the commander said. "King's orders."
My father moved before anyone could react, placing himself between our forces and the wandering wolves. "No," he said simply. "This ends now."
That night changed everything. My father gathered those who shared his vision – wolves who believed in protection rather than persecution. The wanderers joined us, grateful for sanctuary. Others came, drawn by whispers of a pack that offered shelter rather than servitude.
The Ebony Pack was born in darkness and defiance, named for the color of our wolves' souls rather than their fur. My father died defending our fledgling territory, but his dream lived on through me.
Then I met Katherine.
She came from a progressive pack in the Pacific Northwest, where female wolves were trained as warriors alongside males. The first time I saw her, she was defending a group of omega wolves from Silver Moon raiders. Her red-gold hair blazed in the sunlight as she fought, moving with a deadly grace that took my breath away.
She was everything the traditional packs feared – strong, fierce, unwilling to bow to ancient prejudices. When our eyes met across the battlefield, I knew I'd found not just my mate, but the future of the Ebony Pack.
"Your pack takes in strays," she said later, tending to a wound on my shoulder. "I take care of those who can't protect themselves. Perhaps we want the same thing."
Together, we built something extraordinary. Katherine's combat expertise helped train our warriors, while her strength gave hope to female wolves who'd been told they were only good for breeding. The pack grew stronger, our territory more secure. When Olivia and Adrian were born, it felt like the Moon Goddess herself was blessing our vision.
But Richard Sterling never forgot what he saw as my father's betrayal. The Silver Moon Pack's attacks grew more frequent, more vicious. Katherine insisted on fighting alongside our warriors, refusing to hide behind pack walls.
"Our daughter is watching," she'd say, those amber eyes – so like Olivia's – blazing with determination. "She needs to see that being female doesn't mean being weak."
The day Katherine died, Olivia was just six years old. The assassin's blade was meant for me, but Katherine saw it coming. She threw herself between us, taking the poisoned dagger in her heart. Her last words still haunt me:
"Protect our little warrior, Alexander. She'll change everything."
[Present Day]
"Alexander?" Marcus's voice pulled me back to the present. "The Pack Elders are gathering. They're questioning Olivia's position after the... incident with Oliver."
Anger surged through my weakened body. "She's twice the Alpha Adrian will ever be."
"I know that," Marcus said quietly. "But tradition runs deep, old friend. And the Silver Moon Pack is exploiting every weakness."
Before I could respond, the door burst open. Olivia stood there, still wearing the blood-stained clothes from patrol, her eyes wild with a pain that pierced my heart.
"The Elders want Adrian as heir," she said, her voice cracking. "After everything... after he betrayed us..."
I tried to sit up, ignoring the lingering effects of the wolfsbane. "Olivia—"
"You're disappointed in me too, aren't you?" The words exploded from her. "For breaking the mate bond, for driving away your precious son—"
"I'm disappointed," I cut her off, "because you let Oliver live after what he did."
She froze, shock replacing anger on her face.
"You're too much like your mother," I continued softly. "She would have torn out his throat for such betrayal. But she also would have understood, as I do, that mercy can be its own kind of strength."
Olivia's POV
Father's words hung in the air between us, heavy with meaning. My mother – the warrior, the protector, the woman who died making sure I'd have a future. Sometimes I wondered if I was living up to her legacy or failing it spectacularly.
"The Elders are meeting now," Marcus Grey said, his diplomatic tone doing nothing to soften the blow. "They're... concerned about pack stability. The Silver Moon Pack is watching our every move, waiting for any sign of weakness."
"Weakness?" I laughed, the sound sharp and bitter. "Is that what they're calling it when an Alpha heir refuses to be deceived by her mate and brother?"
"They're calling it a failure of leadership," Marcus replied carefully. "A female heir who couldn't maintain control over her mate, who let her emotions override tradition—"
"Tradition?" The word tasted like ash. "Was it tradition when my father built this pack as a haven for outcasts? Was it tradition when my mother fought alongside male warriors?"
"Olivia." Father's voice was weak but commanding. "The Elders fear change. They always have. But fear makes them dangerous."
Through the window, I could hear Adrian's voice carrying across the courtyard, speaking to a group of younger pack members. My brother had always been good at playing politics, at telling people exactly what they wanted to hear.
"He's turning them against me," I said quietly. "The perfect son, betrayed by his mannish sister who couldn't even keep an omega's loyalty."
Marcus shifted uncomfortably. "There have been... suggestions that Oliver's rejection was a sign from the Moon Goddess herself. That perhaps a traditional leadership—"
"Traditional?" Father's laugh turned into a cough. "Should I tell them about tradition, Marcus? About how the mighty Silver Moon Pack maintains their power? About the night Richard Sterling ordered my father's death for daring to protect innocent wolves?"
A commotion outside drew our attention. Through the window, I could see Oliver approaching Adrian, his omega beauty somehow even more pronounced in the afternoon light. But something was different – gone was the perfect submission he'd always displayed. Now his movements were sharp, demanding.
"Looks like your brother's perfect omega isn't so perfect after all," Marcus observed as we watched Oliver gesticulate angrily at Adrian.
"Their bond isn't real," Father said suddenly. "Oliver... there's something wrong about him. Always has been. I should have seen it sooner."
A knock at the door interrupted us. Sarah Scott, one of our few female warriors, stood at attention. "Alpha heir, the perimeter needs inspection. There have been... disturbances."
I welcomed the excuse to escape the suffocating politics of the pack house. Sarah fell into step beside me as we headed toward the borders, her presence steady and undemanding.
"The younger warriors still support you," she said quietly as we walked. "We see what you're trying to build here—a pack where strength matters more than gender or tradition."
"Fat lot of good that does me with the Elders pushing for Adrian to take over."
Sarah's hand caught my arm, stopping me. "You know what they say about your mother? That she was the fiercest warrior this pack has ever seen. That she died protecting what she believed in." Her eyes met mine steadily. "They say you're just like her."
"They say that like it's a bad thing," I muttered, but warmth bloomed in my chest at her words.
We continued our patrol in comfortable silence, but my mind raced with possibilities. The Elders wanted tradition? Fine. But they'd forgotten one crucial fact – the Ebony Pack was built on breaking tradition, on protecting those who needed shelter from the old ways.
"We are not weak," Cora growled in agreement. "We are our mother's daughter."
The sun was setting as we completed our rounds, painting the Montana sky in shades of gold and crimson. From this vantage point, I could see the entire pack territory – the training grounds where I'd first met Dominic, the ceremony hall where everything had fallen apart, the gardens my mother had planted so long ago.
"My mother died protecting this pack's future," I said softly. "I won't let anyone destroy that future just because they're afraid of change."
Sarah's response was interrupted by the sound of breaking glass and raised voices from the direction of the pack house. Oliver's scent carried on the wind, tinged with rage and... something else. Something that reminded me of silver fir and cedar.After the engagement ceremony, Dominick left our Pack, but those who followed him said he did not immediately return to the Silver Moon Pack. Remembering the moment I first caught his scent,my eyes narrowed. Perhaps it was time to do some real investigating into our perfect little omega's past.
And this time, I wouldn't let anyone stand in my way – not Adrian, not Oliver, not even the mighty Silver Moon Pack.I am my mother's daughter. And like her, I would protect what I believed in, no matter the cost.