Mikhail
"...What is the use of my miserable existence?"
Her voice looped in my head like a scratched record. I ran a hand through my hair as if the action could rip her words out of me. The cold was always prevalent in Wintercrest—hence the name—but now the car seemed to heat up.
I was tempted to loosen my tie.
A manicured hand rested lightly on my shoulder, pulling me out of my reverie. Veronique's voice was laced with both worry and reassurance. "You will get the votes."
"What?" I asked, momentarily not understanding what she was speaking about.
She inclined her head so her eyes could meet mine. "The votes for the title of High Alpha. I know it's determined by pack rankings, but Kustav's been... moving pieces. Quietly. You've felt it, haven't you?"
I looked past her, out the tinted glass at the city that raced by. "I've felt it for years. That doesn't mean he'll take the seat."
I met her eyes again. This time, apprehension had been replaced by something that resembled suspicion. "You weren't thinking about the votes."
My silence was answer enough.
Her eyes narrowed to slits. "It's about her, isn't it?" The disdain in her voice could have made honey bitter.
She didn't need to specify who she was speaking about. I knew. We both knew.
Selene.
The echo of her earlier words pressed against me again.
What is the use…
And the memory of her eyes, alight with that unrefined, dangerous rage. Rage she didn't yet understand how to wield without burning herself alive.
Within a day she had proven herself to be... different. Whether that would be good or bad, only time could tell.
"Less than a day here and she's already being a nuisance," Veronique muttered. "Hybrids and their troubles."
"Yet we use them," I murmured, my tone void of accusation.
But knowing Veronique, she would not take it that way. "Because of the Veil. She's not the first, but hopefully she will be the fucking last." Her lips twisted.
I agreed with her there. This had to be the last. Time was not on our side.
My gaze shifted to the bionic arm as I flexed the fingers. I would not need it for too long.
"We're here, Mikhail," Veronique told me, though I already knew.
The car entered a compound, the large gates coming down behind us. We exited the car and stood before the Alphas' meeting place.
The Onyx Concord's headquarters dominated the horizon—a long, sleek building of black steel and smoked glass, its edges sharp enough to cut night. No unnecessary ornamentation, just a black monolith that wasn't especially tall but still seemed to reach for the sky.
Floodlights swept across the polished façade, catching on the silver-inlaid crest above the main entrance—thirteen interlocked moons, one for each Great Pack.
The front plaza was bare save for the armed guards stationed like statues, their matte-black uniforms absorbing the light. They moved in unison to open the towering glass doors.
The chamber was as stark and deliberate as the building itself, oval in shape, walled with tempered glass that looked out into the midnight city skyline. A single ring of obsidian formed the council table, its surface so polished it reflected the faces of those who sat around it.
All seats had been occupied—except for two. The Alpha of Moonclaw's and mine.
Of course, the Moonclaw heir had decided not to show. This would be strike four, and as always, his Beta was present instead.
They all stood as I entered and made my way to my designated seat at the head of the table.
Behind the ring of obsidian where the Alphas sat, a secondary crescent of seats curved in precise symmetry. This was the Betas' tier. Veronique took her place.
"Good morning, Alphas, Lunas, and Betas."
"Good morning, High Alpha," they replied, as we all settled in.
"Let's proceed," I said, picking up the minutes of the meeting—though I already knew what we had planned to discuss. The voting would come last, as always.
From across the ring, Kustav's eyes bore into me, unabashed as always. His intense stare had always been an intimidation tactic, but to me—it was ineffective. He was never the type to take a hint, especially after our encounter just last night.
I did not spare him a glance.
"The Veil," I read out. "It has been brought to my attention that more students who explore the regions around the Veil have been exposed to levels of Lunar Flux potent enough to affect humans. Meanwhile, the packs around the Veil have been facing difficulties shifting due to the leaking Lunar Flux from the fracture." It had been the same news for months.
Alpha Kavriel of Hollowfang—the pack closest to the Veil—met my eyes, frustration evident in his expression. "The last Solstice we had only 47 new shifters, compared to 178 the year before. And most of the wolves..." He pinched his lips as though tasting something sour. "...were half the size of normal shifters. Omegas are on the rise. It is beyond disheartening—this is alarming. Who will be the new generation of Gammas? Will we have to start using more guns like humans?"
He closed his eyes, taking an almost trembling breath. "And it will only get worse. We know this. The tear will widen... and then what?"
Murmurs rippled through both tiers before I stilled them with a raised hand.
Ramond, Alpha of Crimsonmoon, adjusted his cuffs as he spoke. "Our new shifters are as large as they're meant to be." His eyes lifted from his cuffs to sweep the table. "But their healing rate is... disappointing. They heal so slowly, they might as well be human. And like Alpha Kavriel said, it will only get worse from here. We require a permanent solution—or else..." He paused, letting the weight of it settle. "...we stand on the cusp of our own extinction."
More murmured before Oria, Alpha of Wolfspire, ever the pragmatist, spoke. "We've circled this problem for three years," she said, her gaze flicking from one Alpha to another. "And every year the reports worsen. The Veil is bleeding our lands of the goddess's gift. Our wolves are weakening. If we don't act, the Concord will not need enemies to destroy it—we will do it ourselves through inaction or by working under the illusion that we have time to waste."
Kustav spoke only when our gazes locked, measuring every word against my reaction.
"The seers are clear," he began. "Only a creature of both realms can stop the Veil from tearing."
"A Marked Hybrid," Luna Melis scowled. "We've wasted years on them. None ever survive the transition to the Full Moon phase."
The room grew heavy. To mend the Veil without disintegrating, a hybrid had to ascend through four grueling stages. Selene was currently stalled at the first: the Crescent Moon.
Kustav scoffed. "Luckily, we have a new 'salvation'—acquired by the High Alpha himself." His tone was pure venom. He gestured to his Beta, who began distributing files around the table.
As the Alphas flipped through the pages, a wave of stunned silence broke into gasps. Oria was the first to find her voice. "The hybrid from the auction... is your biological daughter?"
Kustav's smile was oily. "A brief fling with a human," he lied, the words sliding out like filth.
I looked at the file, knowing the truth. I had the human-realm records; I knew the reality of Selene's birth was no "fling." I saw the raw phantom of her pain when she'd admitted what she was.
But I wouldn't expose his lie yet. That victory belonged to her. She would be the one to choose when to burn his house down—not the Concord, and certainly not me.
Kustav stood, his smirk widening as he looked my way, savoring the silence.
"Of course," he drawled, "this revelation changes everything. I think the Concord deserves to discuss whether this hybrid remains in his possession—or whether her fate should be decided collectively."
Murmurs swept through the chamber.
"The ascension we require," Kustav continued smoothly, "cannot be achieved in isolation. Bonds are the catalyst. Bonds are the fuel. Without them, the hybrid's wolf will stagnate."
His gaze slid from one Alpha to the next.
"Our strength is born from the threads between us—familial, romantic, brothers-in-arms. That is why we are in packs. A lone wolf is a dead wolf. Look to the omegas and runts in loveless homes—their wolves are weak, sickly, or never come at all."
Heads dipped in reluctant agreement.
"The Nightbane Pack is not strong by chance. My Gammas, my sons—they are the most powerful in the Concord because they are raised in an unbroken chain of bonded loyalty."
Luna Melis's eyes narrowed. "You're asking us to hand her over based on your word?"
Kustav's smile didn't falter. "I'm asking based on the law."
He gestured toward the Beta tier. A figure rose—elderly, draped in green and gray. Seer Ymir of Nightbane. Her milky eyes swept the room.
My chest tightened with dread, her gaze pinned on me for a second too long.
Always prepared I see…
"The Lykaion Codex is clear," she said softly. "'An un-ascended hybrid is bound to the lycan parent who gave them their wolf. Not to those who purchase them. To the blood that woke the beast within.'"
Silence.
Kustav stepped forward. "And if you doubt the bond is already there..." His smile widened. "She was listed as unshifted at auction. Yet she shifted for the first time last night—the moment she laid eyes on me."
The chamber erupted into chaos.
"Her wolf recognized her blood before her mind did," he continued. "That is the Codex in action. And if we sever that bond now, we condemn her to the same fate as every other hybrid who failed."
He met my eyes across the table.
"I will return the billion. Plus interest. This is not about profit; it's our ultimate survival." He faced me then, his sharp features carved into smugness.
"So let my daughter come home to me."
All eyes turned to me.