Chapter 9 - The Ashes of Riverbend
With the Obsidian Claw crushed and its surviving lords pledging fealty to the Ashen Peaks, the balance of power across the entire kingdom shifted permanently. Garrick was no longer just the King of the North; he was recognized as the undisputed sovereign of all packs.
Yet, there was one loose end that needed tying before true peace could take root.
Two weeks after the battle of Blackwood Pass, a royal carriage escorted by a dozen elite northern guards rolled through the decaying gates of the Riverbend Pack.
The contrast between Riverbend and the Ashen Peaks was now starker than ever. While the northern capital flourished under strong leadership and trade, Riverbend was literally falling apart. Without Caelen’s backing, without Roland’s manipulation, and crushed under the weight of northern economic sanctions, the pack had descended into complete chaos. Alpha Auric had been deposed by his own starving council, and the great hall looked more like a desolate ruin than a pack house.
Inside the freezing, damp hall, the remaining members of Riverbend huddled together in shivering silence as the massive oak doors swung open.
King Garrick and Queen Maeve walked in side by side.
Maeve wore her crown—a delicate circlet of silver and dark iron shaped like interlocking wolf briars—and her emerald cloak swept regally across the dirty stone floor where she had once knelt in the mud.
From the corner of the room, a broken, filthy figure crawled forward.
Roland.
The former Beta looked unrecognizable. His hair was matted, his clothes were torn rags covered in filth, and the arrogant, sneering confidence that had once defined him was completely gone, replaced by hollow, weeping despair. He dragged himself across the floor, stopping right at Maeve’s feet, pressing his forehead against the freezing stone.
“Maeve...” Roland sobbed, his voice cracking miserably. “Please... have mercy. I was a fool. I was blind. Please... intercede for me with the King. Let me serve in the stables. Let me do anything... just don't let me starve here.”
Maeve looked down at him.
She remembered the sound of his laughter echoing off these very walls. She remembered the cruel amusement in his hazel eyes when he casually threw her away like garbage. She remembered the cold water soaking through her knees while he walked away to discuss hunting parties.
She didn't feel anger. She didn't feel satisfaction.
She felt nothing at all for him. He was simply a ghost from a past life that no longer existed.
“Roland,” Maeve said softly, her voice carrying clearly through the silent hall. “When you stood in this very hall and rejected me, you taught me the most valuable lesson of my life.”
Roland wept, clutching the hem of her cloak. “What... what lesson?”
“You taught me that I didn’t need you to be strong,” Maeve replied evenly.
She gently pulled her cloak free from his filthy grip, stepping past him without looking back.
Garrick paused beside the broken former Beta, looking down at him with cold, utter indifference.
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“You wanted a world where the weak are crushed and the strong rule without mercy,” Garrick said quietly. “You got your wish. Live in the ruins you created.”
Without another word, the King and Queen turned their backs on Riverbend forever, leaving the broken pack to fade into the history books from which they came.
