CHAPTER 129: CHANGE IN THE COUNCIL...

The room was buzzing with noise, the sound of chairs moving and people talking creating a tense atmosphere.

A few older members looked at each other; their faces were serious and hard to read, with lines around their mouths deepened by years of experience.

One of them, a grey-haired man with deep grooves etched into his face, turned toward Darius as if hoping to find an ally. "You knew about this?" he asked in disbelief, his voice rising above the murmur.

Before Darius could so much as open his mouth, Emerald’s gaze snapped to the man. "I’m the Alpha," she said evenly. "I don’t need anyone’s permission to make decisions, least of all decisions that will bring positive change to this pack."

The man’s mouth opened, then closed again. A short, nervous chuckle slipped out like he was trying to soften the edges of his words. "That’s not what I meant..."

"Then choose your words more carefully," she cut in.

A small nod. He dropped his eyes to the table, clearly unwilling to push the matter further.

Emerald straightened, letting her hands brace lightly against the smooth surface as she swept her gaze across the rest of the council.

"My father ran this pack his way. He was a good Alpha, and I respect the legacy he left behind. But I am not him, and my leadership will not be a shadow of his. I intend to run this pack my way."

Several heads turned toward one another at that... subtle flicks of glances, lips pressing together, but no one dared interrupt.

"The disbandment of the council," she continued, "does not mean everyone here will be cast aside. It means the old structure, one that has served men exclusively for as long as anyone can remember, will be replaced by something better. The Alpha Queen’s Court will include women in leadership positions."

That broke the room like a stone tossed into still water.

A few men stiffened, their hands tightening on the armrests of their chairs. Others muttered under their breath, as if saying the words quietly could blunt their impact.

And then, from the far end of the table, a voice rose above the others, cutting through the murmurs like an arrow.

"That’s ridiculous," someone said flatly. "Women have no business in politics."

The silence that followed was instant and suffocating.

Every eye turned toward the speaker. His face paled instantly, as though he could feel the noose of his own words tightening around his neck.

Emerald recognised him at once; he was one of her father’s closest advisors, a man who had been in her life since she was a child.

Her eyes locked on him without blinking. "I’m a woman," she said smoothly. "Are you suggesting I have no business leading this pack? Or are you prepared to admit that unless someone here is planning to rebel openly, women have every right to lead as much as any man at this table?"

The man swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing, but no sound followed.

Emerald stepped away from her chair, her boots making a slow, deliberate sound against the floor as she moved toward the door. She stopped halfway, turning her head just enough to catch him in her peripheral.

"You are officially dismissed from the council," she said, "and from the new court."

A few sharp breaths echoed in the stunned quiet.

She let her gaze sweep over the table, meeting the eyes of each man in turn. "Those who do not receive a summons for the next meeting... don’t bother attending."

Without another word, she walked out.

The hallway outside was quieter, the muffled sounds of the council still leaking faintly from behind the door.

She exhaled slowly, letting the air leave her lungs in a controlled stream.

Satisfaction hummed low in her chest, but beneath it, her heartbeat kept a steady, heavy rhythm. She knew exactly how much the move she’d just made would set certain teeth on edge.

She didn’t care.

She was done letting men dictate her pace. Done letting them smile while steering her from behind. Done pretending that their opinions outweighed her own instincts.

A shadow stretched across the corridor, and she turned to see Darius just a few paces behind. His expression was unreadable, though there was a flicker of something... approval, maybe amusement in his eyes.

"You stayed awfully quiet in there," she said, lifting a brow.

He shrugged, his mouth twitching slightly. "Because you were right. You’re Alpha. You call the shots. My opinion doesn’t factor in unless you ask for it."

Her lips curved faintly. "That’s a dangerously supportive answer."

He smirked, but his voice was wry. "I’d just appreciate a little heads-up next time, so I’m not caught like a deer in the council’s glare."

A soft laugh escaped her, surprising even herself. "Fair enough."

They fell into step together, the echo of their boots carrying through the long hallway.

"Who are you thinking of for the new court?" he asked after a moment.

"I have a few names in mind," she replied. "Women, I trust. Women who don’t need to be told twice to hold their ground."

He nodded once. "I’ll give you my own list. And I’ll work out the functionality... make sure the new court can actually get things done without the old boys’ network dragging it down. You," he added, giving her a meaningful glance, "can focus on the solstice."

Her lips curved into a real smile this time. "Deal."

—

Far away, in the heart of Rick’s pack, the air felt heavier... thicker somehow.

In a dim hallway outside his rooms, Alia walked back and forth, her heels tapping against the stone floor. The walls felt like they were closing in on her, and the silence weighed heavy, something she didn’t want but couldn’t escape.

She knocked once on the heavy wooden door, then pushed it open without waiting for a reply.

Rick was at his desk, his head bent over a stack of papers spread like a fan before him. He didn’t look up. "I’m busy."

Her voice was calm, but the edge in it was unmistakable. "You’re always busy lately. Strange, isn’t it? You never used to be."

"I have things to handle," he said, still without glancing at her.

Alia took a few steps closer; the soft rustle of her clothes was the only sound between them. "You’ve had ’things to handle’ for weeks. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re avoiding me. Or... are you?"

His pen scratched steadily across the page. "You’re imagining things."

Her eyes narrowed, her words curling like smoke. "Am I? Or are you finally thinking of leaving me... and crawling back to Emerald?"

This time, he didn’t even bother to answer.

Her nails pressed into her palms as anger welled up inside her. Without saying anything more, she turned and walked away, the sound of her boots echoing with each step.

The air outside his rooms was cooler, calmer, but her mind was already a storm. Every twisted way she could rid herself of Emerald once and for all spun through her thoughts like a carousel she couldn’t step off.

She was halfway down the west wing when a figure stepped out of the shadows.

"Alia."

She froze mid-step. The voice was familiar... too familiar, and the sound of it sent a ripple of surprise through her, as it had been a while since she had heard it.

Turning around, her eyes landed on Rick’s sister, Rhiannon.

Alia’s lips parted, and a genuine smile flickered for the first time in days. "Rhiannon," she breathed.

Rhiannon stepped forward, her dark hair catching the light from the tall windows. "It’s been too long," she said, her voice carrying that familiar warmth that had always made Alia feel at ease.

They embraced briefly, the kind of hug that spoke of old confidences and nights spent talking in whispered tones when the rest of the world had been asleep.

When they stepped back, Alia looked her over, taking in the travel-worn edges, it was subtle, but there.

"You didn’t tell me you were coming," Alia said, a hint of accusation curling through her tone, though her smile softened it.

Rhiannon gave a faint, knowing smirk. "I wanted to surprise you."

"Well, you did," Alia replied. "Did Rick know you were coming, or are you surprising him too?"

"I didn’t tell him I was coming. He’s not been in touch with me for a while, so I didn’t bother calling or texting him."

Alia gestured toward the quieter end of the hall. "Come on, let’s get out of this drafty corridor. You can tell me everything."

They fell into step side by side, the easy rhythm of old friendship settling between them.

"It really has been too long," Rhiannon murmured, glancing at her.

Alia hummed in agreement. "Far too long. I’ve missed having someone here who actually understands me."

"I’ve missed you too," Rhiannon said simply.