Chapter 82: The Truth
Lance Stormhold stood at the wide window, his hands clasped firmly behind his back, as he stared at the darkness outside. His thoughts turned heavier with every passing second, as he replayed the unsettling events of the evening over and over in his mind.
He was not a superstitious man. Never had been. He had always trusted in strength, in discipline, in the power of his own will rather than in signs, omens, or the mutterings of those who placed faith in shadows.
But tonight... tonight he could not help but wonder. The unease in his chest refused to loosen up. It had been building slowly but tonight, his instinct was almost choking him, making it impossible for him to ignore it.
Tonight had been the night The Witch had been invited to bless the proceedings, to declare the most auspicious time for their mating ceremony. But he had been reluctant. Because he knew Ramona. Knew what she was like...
However, the Stormhold Pack had been too long without a Luna and it needed one, so he’d not protested when the councilmen had continued to push to set a date and complete the bond.
Behind him, the ceaseless chatter of the council continued to increase in volume, so much so, he had to clench his hands and forcefully stop himself from snapping at their necks.
He had long since learned to ignore their endless bickering, the back-and-forth of men too old to act and too arrogant to remain silent. The old fools lived to argue and debate. Not one of the ’wise’ men had realised that the only person he listened to, was himself.
His wolf stirred restlessly beneath his skin, growing more agitated with each passing moment. The beast prowled at the edges of his control, its impatience rising like a storm.
For the first time in his life, Lance did not understand the reason for his unrest, yet it took all of his discipline to keep his instincts contained. His wolf wanted release- wanted blood and dominance.
And then it came. A voice rose louder than the rest, as Councilman Green, dared to shout, "Your Majesty! This is simply not done! How can the celebration be stopped halfway? Prince Zen had no right to-"
Lance felt his control break. He never allowed the man to finish.
In the blink of an eye, he was no longer standing at the window but in front of the councilman, his movement so fast the others barely registered it.
His hands closed around the man’s throat in a crushing grip and he spoke each word slowly, "I suggest that you think very carefully before you dare finish that sentence. Tell me, Councilman- what right does my brother not have?"
The man’s eyes bulged, his face turning red as he clawed weakly at Lance’s wrists, fighting for breath. The sight only fed the dark hunger in Lance’s wolf, and for a fleeting second he allowed himself to relish the way the man trembled under his power.
There was a perverse satisfaction in watching him struggle. They really did take his temper as a joke, always trying to use him to get their own motives.
The room had fallen silent as the rest of the councimen sat frozen, their mouths shut tight as fear rolled off them in thick waves...
Only when the man mumbled an apology and tried to bare his neck in submission did Lance let him go.
Lance released his grip and stepped back, watching as the old man stumbled into his chair, gasping for air and rubbing at his bruised throat. No one dared meet Lance’s eyes or even move. Inside, his wolf scoffed. These people had the audacity to term themselves as wise wolves. They were nothing but scared old men.
Straightening, he turned in a slow circle to face the rest of them, his gaze sharp as steel. "Enough," he said, his voice cutting cleanly through the oppressive hush. "Since the Witch has kindly accepted our invitation to remain here for a few more days, there is no need for this endless noise. No need for these debates. We can simply find out a date tomorrow."
He sent everyone a look and nodded when no one protested. Good. Now they knew to value their lives. With a sigh, he then blinked slowly and cocked his head, "As for the matter of the omega, I have already spoken. She will swear her loyalty to the Stormhold Pack tomorrow, before us all. And now that she has already done something of merit for Stormhold, there is no need for further discussion."
The announcement should have ended the matter, as far as Lance was concerned, but some people just could not let him live peacefully.
Councilman Vye cleared his throat and asked slowly, "Your Majesty! this matter cannot be dismissed so easily. It demands a proper inquiry. The girl was required to perform a good deed for the pack, and then on the very same night, an accident occurred. Should we not, at the very least, consider what this means? That it could have been planned by the Omega."
Lance prayed for patience. Once these men were gone, he needed to go out for a long run.
He cast a glance at the man and spoke coldly, "Councilman Vye, do not waste my time chasing shadows where none exist. The Chef carried the soup outside like always. She was the one wh admitted with her own mouth that she was unwell and had lost her balance for a moment. That her strength gave way. That was the cause."
"Does that mean we now question the loyalty of our own? Does that mean we turn suspicion upon pack members falling sick?"
"That is not what I meant, Your Majesty...."
"Then clear your head next time before you speak, Councilman Vye. I assume you are all tired so, lets not waste time. We’ll see each other tomorrow. Good night."
He watched as the men all left and finally threw himself into the couch.