Chapter 3 – A Conditional Promise
The sun crested the jagged peaks of the mountain range as Rowan stood at the window of his office, arms crossed over his broad chest. His gaze was fixed on the tree line, watching as a breeze stirred the frost-dusted pines. His wolf paced beneath the surface, unsettled, restless.
He turned away and exhaled a heavy sigh. Today, he would formally announce his courtship with Rhea. The idea didn’t sit well with him, not because Rhea was unsuitable—far from it—but because it wasn’t born of love. It wasn’t what he had dreamed of. But dreams were luxuries men like him couldn’t afford, not when the future of an entire pack rested on his shoulders.
As he strode through the corridors of the packhouse, a heavy silence accompanied him. The guards nodded, the unmated wolves bowed slightly, and the whisper of tension clung to the walls like smoke. The news of his upcoming declaration had already begun to spread, despite his efforts to keep things quiet. Rumors moved fast in a hidden pack like theirs.
When he entered the Elder’s Hall, five pairs of aging eyes turned to him expectantly. The room smelled faintly of sandalwood and parchment, and the ancient oak table they sat around creaked as they shifted to acknowledge him.
“Alpha Rowan,” Elder Beren said, his voice raspy with age but steady. “You’ve made your decision?”
“I have,” Rowan replied, standing tall in front of them. “I will court Rhea, effective immediately.”
A satisfied hum passed among the elders. Elder Maeve gave a pleased nod while Elder Doran leaned forward, resting both hands on the table.
“She is of strong Beta blood and carries herself with dignity. A fine choice,” Maeve commented.
“But,” Rowan interjected, his voice sharpening like a blade. “I will not name her Luna until the final day of the time you’ve given me. Until then, my search for my fated mate continues.”
The elders blinked, their approval cooling.
“That is... unorthodox,” Beren said carefully. “The pack could benefit from seeing you firmly committed. Stability, Rowan. Especially now.”
“I won’t be pressured into a decision that is meant to last a lifetime,” Rowan replied. “Rhea has agreed to the terms. You will get your Luna—if I don’t find my mate. But not a moment sooner.”
Before any of them could argue, the door slammed open.
Sylah entered like a storm, dressed in a tight crimson blouse that clung to her curves, her long hair pinned back to expose her sharp jawline. She looked between Rowan and the elders, fury sparking in her eyes.
“Rhea?” she spat, walking further into the room. “Of all the options, you chose the one who barely speaks?”
Rowan clenched his jaw. “This is not the time, Sylah.”
“You didn’t even give us a fair chance,” she accused, stepping closer. “I’ve done everything to prove I would be your equal. I’ve trained beside warriors, I’ve learned diplomacy, I’ve done everything expected of a Luna!”
“You’ve played games, Sylah,” he said, his voice low. “Games I warned you I would not tolerate. Breaking into my room, stripping down, trying to force a bond through manipulation?”
Sylah flushed with fury, her hands balled into fists. “You’re making a mistake. She will never be strong enough to rule beside you. I would have given you sons worthy of the throne.”
“I don’t need a womb,” Rowan growled. “I need a partner. One who listens. One who leads with honor.” Silence fell. Even the elders looked taken aback.
Sylah’s voice wavered as she forced a bitter smile. “Then may the Moon Goddess help you when you realize your mistake.” She turned on her heel and stormed out.
Rowan ran a hand through his hair and turned back to the elders, who all exchanged glances.
“Let her be,” Doran muttered.
“She’ll stir trouble,” Maeve warned. “Women like Sylah don’t lose graciously.”
“Then let her try,” Rowan said, his voice calm but ironclad. “But I won’t be bullied into love.”
Elder Tamas leaned forward. “So be it. We will honor your agreement, Alpha. But we will hold you to it. If you do not find your fated mate by the end of the third moon cycle, you will take Rhea as your Luna.”
Rowan nodded stiffly. “You have my word.”
They dismissed him, and he stepped out into the hall just as Rhea appeared, as if summoned by fate itself. She wore a soft blue dress and had her long honey-brown hair tied into a low braid. She looked serene, eyes downcast.
“You did well,” she said quietly.
“You heard?” he asked.
She nodded once. “Sylah was yelling in the hall. Most of the pack probably knows.”
Rowan gave a tired chuckle. “Perfect.”
“You still want me to move into the unmated quarters?” she asked.
He nodded. “We need to sell this if we want the elders off my back. You’ll have your privacy, but the illusion of closeness will help.”
Rhea shrugged. “I don’t mind. Just… don’t expect me to cook.”
That earned a real smile from Rowan. “I won’t. Thank you for agreeing to this.”
She glanced up, meeting his eyes for the first time. “We both want the same thing. A pack that survives. You want your mate. I want to protect our people. This arrangement serves us both.”
They parted ways, and Rowan watched her go, her poise graceful and effortless. He respected her for it. Maybe even liked her. But it wasn’t love. And the thought of settling for less made his heart ache.
He turned toward the forest visible through the window and exhaled slowly. Somewhere out there, his mate existed. And he would find her.
No matter what it took.
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