Chapter 4 - Shadows in the Pack
The atmosphere in Red Pine Lodge shifted from polite tension to volatile suspicion within a single heartbeat. Alpha Marcus forced a tight laugh, trying to brush off the bizarre display. “Animals get confused after trauma, Your Majesty. The beast clearly smells the medicine on her.”
Rowan did not laugh. He looked past Marcus, his gaze fixed on Elise, who stood frozen as the strange, lingering warmth in her pocket slowly faded back into ordinary cotton and thread. The king could sense something ancient and buried beneath the surface of this quiet omega—something the Red Pine Pack had spent years intentionally suppressing.
“Leave us,” Rowan commanded, his voice brooking no argument.
Marcus hesitated, his jaw tightening, but bowing to an Alpha King was mandatory. With a sharp glare at Elise, Marcus, Grant, and Marissa withdrew from the hall, leaving only Caleb and the royal guards.
Once the heavy doors clicked shut, Rowan stepped closer to Elise. “Take out the scarf.”
Elise hesitated, her fingers trembling slightly as she reached into her pocket and pulled out the cream-colored linen cloth embroidered with the silver crescent moon. As she handed it to the king, Rowan caught it gently. He ran his calloused thumb over the intricate stitching, his expression turning grim.
“Where did you get this?” Rowan asked quietly.
“My grandmother, Mabel,” Elise answered, her voice barely above a whisper. “She told me it was all that remained of our family before we came to Red Pine.”
“Mabel Moonward,” Rowan murmured, testing the name like a forgotten key turning in a rusted lock. He looked up, his silver eyes burning with sudden clarity. “The Moonward healers weren't just wandering herbalists, Elise. They were the royal physicians and direct blood-keepers of the Northern Seers. Twenty years ago, during the Great Purge, the entire lineage was wiped out—or so the council was led to believe.”
Elise stepped back, her heart hammering against her ribs. “Wiped out? But my grandmother always said we were just ordinary healers who lost our home.”
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“Your grandmother hid you to keep you alive,” Rowan stated flatly. He turned to Caleb. “Double the guard around the lodge. Marcus and his inner circle are hiding something far darker than a poorly maintained bridge. That fire wasn't an accident. It was an assassination attempt on Oral—and the trail leads straight to the Red Pine leadership.”
Before Caleb could salute and depart, a sharp, frantic howl echoed from the outer training yards, followed by the sound of shattering glass and raised voices.
