Chapter 61: Chapter 61
The morning light streaming through the dining room windows felt too bright, too happy for what was about to happen.
The coffee mug shattered against the tile floor.
I froze mid-bite of toast, watching Christian stare at his phone like it had personally insulted him. His jaw was clenched so tight I worried his teeth might crack.
"What?" I asked carefully.
"My father." He didn’t look up from the screen. "He’s requested a formal meeting with the Alpha Council."
That... didn’t sound good. Over the past few months, Harold had been radio silent. No calls, no visits, no passive-aggressive comments about pack management. Christian had said the silence was worse than if his father had been actively antagonizing him.
I set down my toast. "What does that mean?"
"It means he’s planning something." Christian’s thumb scrolled through more messages, his shoulders getting tighter with each line. "He doesn’t call formal council meetings unless he wants an audience. And he definitely doesn’t do it unless he’s confident he can win."
"Win what?"
Christian finally looked at me. His eyes were sharp, calculating, but underneath I could feel something else through our bond—anger. Old anger mixed with something that looked suspiciously like hurt.
"Control," he said quietly. "He wants control back."
The Alpha Council meeting was held at a neutral territory two hours from Shadow Ridge. Some pack leader’s hunting lodge that smelled like old wood and centuries of testosterone.
I should have expected the comments. I didn’t expect Christian to grip my hand so hard my fingers went numb.
"Lunas typically don’t attend political proceedings," some silver-haired Alpha said, eyeing me like I’d shown up naked.
"My mate attends what she chooses," Christian replied, his voice level but with an edge that made the guy back off.
Harold was already there, sitting at the head of a long table like he owned the place. He looked smaller than I remembered. Or maybe that was just because Christian had told me everything—really *everything*—about what growing up under his father’s thumb had been like.
"Christian." Harold stood, all warmth and welcome, like he hadn’t spent months playing psychological warfare. He pulled his son into a hug that Christian endured rather than returned. Then Harold turned to me, and his smile didn’t reach his eyes. "Sophie. What a lovely surprise."
"Harold." I kept my voice neutral.
He took his seat, and everyone else followed suit. I was the only one without a designated chair until Christian pulled one close to his, one hand remaining on my knee.
"I’ve been thinking about the pack," Harold began, his voice thoughtful and measured. "About the future. Christian’s been making some... interesting decisions."
Here we go.
"Progressive choices," he continued smoothly. "And I don’t disagree with the spirit of innovation. But I’ve had some concerns I wanted to discuss with the council. For the good of Shadow Ridge, of course."
One of the older Alphas nodded immediately. I recognized the look—Harold had already worked this guy over.
"The integration of lone wolves," Harold went on, ticking off points on his fingers like he was discussing weather. "Women in combat roles. The corporate expansion. Merging traditional pack structure with modern business practices. These are significant shifts."
Christian’s hand on my knee stayed relaxed, but I could feel the tension radiating off him through the bond.
"They’ve improved our territory security, increased our finances, and raised morale among the younger pack members," I said.
Harold turned to me with that same condescending smile. "Well, your enthusiasm is admirable. It must be nice to influence pack policy so directly. But these aren’t really your domain, are they?"
I felt Christian’s wolf push closer to the surface. A low rumble that only I could hear through the bond.
"The corporate division is literally my responsibility," I said evenly.
"Of course. I’m just concerned that Christian might be letting personal attachment influence his judgment." Harold turned back to his son. "No offense to the present company. It’s natural. You’ve found your mate, you’re happy. But is happiness the best foundation for leadership?"
The other Alphas exchanged glances. Some are skeptical. Some consider it.
"We’ve increased territorial security by thirty percent," Christian said, his voice controlled. "Recruitment is up. The female warrior program has prevented three incursions that traditional patrol routes missed. The corporate division is projecting a forty percent profit increase."
"Impressive numbers," Harold conceded. "Though I wonder if they’re sustainable, or if they’re the result of... honeymoon phase intensity. How long before the novelty wears off?"
He was so careful about it. Never a direct attack. Just questions. Concerns. Doubts whispered so smoothly they sounded like facts.
One of the younger Alphas—someone from the Wyoming territory—actually raised his hand. "Are you suggesting Christian’s leadership is compromised?"
