Chapter 37: Bound by Blood, Divided by Power
The first rays of morning sun broke across the treetops, bleeding gold through the branches as Rowan crossed the final threshold of the forest and reentered pack lands. His wolf, exhausted but restless, lingered beneath his skin, snarling at every step that drew them farther from the trail, farther from Giselle.
They had searched all night. Miles of terrain scoured, every whisper of scent followed, every sign examined. But as dawn stretched its fingers across the earth, the trail had run cold. And Rowan was no closer to finding her.
‘She’s still out there,’ his wolf growled in his mind, pacing. ‘She’s scared. Alone.’
‘I know,’ Rowan thought, pain piercing him sharper than any fang or claw. ‘But we’ll find her. We have to.’
As he approached the packhouse, a runner intercepted him at the outer steps.
“The Elders demand your presence,” the boy said, eyes wide and trembling, clearly unnerved by the naked, blood-smudged Alpha who stood like a storm ready to break.
Rowan didn’t respond. He didn’t need to. He walked past the boy, grabbing a pair of pants someone had left at the door and tugging them on with stiff fingers before heading toward the chamber.
He didn’t bother knocking.
The five Elders turned as one when he entered, their expressions grave. At the center of them stood Elder Malric, as always, his face lined in displeasure.
“You defied our orders,” Malric snapped without preamble. “You were told to remain here, to focus on the pack’s healing. Instead, you vanished into the woods like a rogue yourself.”
“I went to find my mate,” Rowan said flatly, crossing his arms over his bare chest.
“She is not your mate!” Malric roared, pounding his fist on the ancient table. “She is a rogue who has brought nothing but bloodshed to our borders. And last night proved that.”
“You think she planned that attack?” Rowan asked, voice cold. “You think she orchestrated a slaughter on the night I announced my fake union with Rhea, only to be dragged away by the same man who’s terrorized her for years? Is that what you truly believe?”
“She disappeared from her cell,” Elder Ardan added, tone sharp and accusing. “You made assurances of her confinement, and yet she walked free into the hands of our enemies.”
Rowan’s fists clenched at his sides. “She didn’t walk free. She was taken. And if anyone had been watching her as they claimed they were, we would’ve known that sooner.”
“She is a threat to this pack,” Malric snapped. “And last night proved the danger of allowing her to remain among us.”
“She saved this pack!” Rowan’s voice thundered through the chamber, echoing off the stone walls. “She warned us once before. She fought beside us. She nearly died protecting one of our own. And now, when she’s the one who needs protection, you cast her out like trash.”
Elder Liora’s voice was softer, but no less pointed. “Rowan, you’ve compromised your judgment. Your heart is clouded by a bond that has not yet been fully realized. You’ve not marked her. She has not been accepted by the pack.”
“I don’t need your acceptance,” he growled. “She is mine. The Moon Goddess chose her, not any of you.”
Elder Bram, the oldest among them, leaned forward, his voice weary. “The Goddess also gave you a pack to lead. One that bleeds because of decisions you’ve made. If you continue on this path, Rowan… we may have no choice but to remove you as Alpha.”
The words hit like a blade to the chest.
Silence fell over the chamber.
Rowan stepped forward, slow and deliberate, placing both hands on the table. His gaze locked with each of theirs, ending with Malric. “You want to strip me of my title?” he said, voice low, dangerous. “You’ll have to come and take it.”
Malric opened his mouth, but Rowan didn’t let him speak.
"And while you’re busy trying to overthrow your Alpha, I’ll be out there—doing the one thing none of you have the spine to do. Saving her. Saving the mate the Moon Goddess gave me. The one who bled for this pack.”
He stood straight and turned to leave.
“You are walking a fine line, Rowan,” Malric called after him. “Continue down this road, and it will not just be your title that’s taken from you. It will be your future.”
Rowan paused at the door. “No,” he said, glancing over his shoulder. “My future is out there. And I’m not losing her.” Without another word, he stormed from the chamber.
The moment the elders' heavy chamber doors shut behind him, Rowan released a growl low in his throat. The rage simmering just beneath his skin threatened to rise again. They had spoken of Giselle as if she were nothing—a strategic liability, a blemish on their pristine pack record. But she was his mate. His Luna. And he would tear down the walls of the pack house with his bare hands before he let them erase her.
The soft click of his boots against the polished stone floor echoed as he made his way through the empty corridors, but his mind was already elsewhere.
‘Kalen.’ The name pulsed through the pack link, sharp and commanding.
‘Alpha?’
‘I need eyes on Malric.’ Rowan’s tone was steel, edged with caution. ‘Discreet eyes. No one can know. Especially him.’
A pause, then Kalen’s voice came back, a touch wary. ‘You think he’s behind what happened?’
‘I don’t think. I know something isn’t right. He was too eager to keep me from searching for her. Too eager to bury her memory.’ Rowan reached the top of the stairs and turned toward his wing. ‘Watch him. Don’t confront. Don’t shadow him too obviously. I want to know where he goes, who he meets, and when. Every detail.’
‘Understood, Alpha.’ Kalen’s voice was clipped now, focused. Loyal.
Rowan ended the link and exhaled, the weight on his chest not lifting. He entered his office, lit only by the gray glow of morning, and strode to the window. The forest stretched out before him in quiet solemnity, mocking him with its silence.
But he wouldn’t let that silence last.
Crossing the room with long, determined strides, he pulled out his leather chair and sat himself behind his desk. Once seated, he pulled on the pack link, and murmured the command, ‘Sylah. Office. Now.’
He placed his hands in his lap and waited, heart pounding like a war drum.
Whatever secrets Malric thought he could bury, Rowan would unearth them.
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