CHAPTER 73: CHAPTER 73: THE TRUTH WITHIN

IVAN’S POV

"Yes," I said. "At the Severance between Maeve Oakes and myself."

Whispers crawled through the chamber. Francis had his tense eyes fixed on me — a sharp contrast to Barty’s shaky gaze. I tilted my head.

Was he putting on an act, or was he truly that terrified? Had he been responsible for the rumors? He’d always been a loud mouth, but I’d believed pack gossip was beneath him.

A minute later, and the still silver stayed cool.

"Did you attack any bystander during the ritual?"

"Yes."

Wide-eyed looks were exchanged from elder to elder, undisguised wariness seeping into their forms as they returned their attention to me. I was a caged wild animal to them.

Elder Ilyas cleared her throat.

"State their name and how this attack occurred."

The incident played out before my eyes before the words left my lips.

"Revierre Grantham — current pack priest of Ash Creek. He officiated the Severance, and my... wolf’s actions were triggered by the failure of the ritual—" The silver began to bite, sinking into my skin like the piercing of burning needles.

I drew in a sharp breath, clenching my teeth as I ground out my next words.

"Or at least, that was what I had thought — but ruminating on my words and actions during the haze of momentary violence, it seemed our actions had stemmed from an attempt to push back against the forced Severance between myself and my fated mate, Maeve Oakes."

Now there was a gasp — the buzz of whispers returning to the room.

One pair of eyes stared particularly rigid at me, a crinkle of a frown grazing his features — Vance Montrose.

I didn’t blink away from his stare, only shifting when Elder Halden’s voice rose above the cacophony as he shot to his feet.

"I knew it! The Alpha-Heir has gone feral! I’d sworn this day would come from the first attack, but you dishonest circle of wolves insisted otherwise! First it’s the priest, then who’s next? Us? The Beta? Or maybe even—"

"Sit down, Elder Halden," came Vance’s calm voice as he pinned the elder with a warning eye.

"Why am I being forced to swallow the truth?! You’re all thinking it — say it to his face then! Even Elder Ilyas had no problem talking smack about his less than exemplary ways during the last meeting. Why then am I antagonized for naming the problem? Ivan Cross is cursed to lose control to his wolf one day and slaughter us all!" he shrieked, like he was the mad one.

I sighed, leveling the panting man with a cold gaze.

"While I respect your unsavory opinions about me, Halden, this is not a tavern for loud-mouthed old fools. This is a sacred council gathering, borne witness by the Goddess herself. So unless you wish to lose that tongue to the very beast you fear, I suggest you sit back down."

He paled — eyes bulging out of their sockets — and he raised an accusing finger.

"Y-You are threat—t—"

"Now!" The growl tore right from my throat.

Halden fell back into his seat with a flinch, no doubt trembling underneath that oversized robe.

I rolled my eyes in distaste, fixing my gaze back to Elder Ilyas and the rest of the council. Of course, they seemed even more frightened than before — well, except Vance.

Cowards.

"Proceed," I commanded.

"R-Right," Elder Ilyas stuttered, cleared her throat, then nodded. "Of course, Alpha. Is the priest gravely hurt?"

"No. In fact, he is back in his seat as we speak." The silver stayed cool.

Francis and I had paid Revierre a visit, and I’d tendered my most sincere apology.

Even though I wanted to sign off on the importation of new scholarly books to fill the library I intended to build in his honor, he had profusely refused. Classic Revierre.

Francis had also used that as an opportunity to question his involvement in the rumor — he was clean.

Elder Ilyas hummed.

"Aside from the pack priest, was anyone else hurt outside the premises of the Severance?"

"No."

The silver warmed, then cooled again. Elder Ilyas glanced to Elder Mara. She sniffed the air like a hound, evidently checking for the burn of flesh.

"No taint of lie," Mara said. "But there is... anger."

"At myself," I said. "Not my people."

"And why is that? Why are you angry at yourself?" Vance tilted his head at me.

"While my actions had not spiraled beyond one casualty, it came close to putting my people in danger—and that would have been unforgivable."

"So, you agree that you currently pose a threat to the people of Ash Creek?" Elder Halden sneered.

"I pose a danger to anyone who threatens Ash Creek," I answered. "And that includes myself. I’d sooner rip out my own heart than slaughter my own people. While there is the will of my wolf, I am still the master of whatever lives within me. The priest and I have discussed stronger alternatives to the temperance spell as well."

The elders watched the silver carefully this time, perhaps because of the unbending conviction in my words—or the possibility of it all being just bluff.

But I knew I meant every word. Every breath. The throne of Ash Creek was my destiny, but what came beyond that was the good of my people—of my family.

If my existence ever posed a threat to that, I would end it.

The silver proved that with its calm. Elder Mara nodded then, exchanging the same lens of reason with the other elders—except Halden.

"Well, damn," Vance chuckled. "Talk about a hero."

"I believe I speak for everyone when I say the Order of Oath has been appeased." Elder Ilyas’s eyes moved across the room before settling back on me. "Next is the Order of Fury."

Within the next few minutes, the scenery changed. In came a guard carrying a set of moonstone-carved handcuffs, etched with ancient runes and worn with evident aging. It had been passed down for ages as part of the Order of Three.

Elder Ilyas nodded at the guard to approach me, and without being asked, I extended my wrists.

Still leaning on the wall across the room, Francis gave me a nod of encouragement, though his expression was still taut with tension.

I guess not even the last win was enough to appease his need for perfection. It would take appeasing the Three to set my dearest beta’s heart at rest.

"The Order of Fury tries the truth that lies within you—in your wolf. It reacts to surges," Ilyas said. "If your wolf spikes, we’ll know. And the cuffs will burn enough to draw out your... beast."