CHAPTER 49: HE’S NOT MY ALPHA

"Relax," the man said quietly without even looking up. He kept stirring his drink, the soft clink of the spoon against the cup cutting through the low murmur of the café.

"If I called you out, it’s because there’s something you need to know." His voice was smooth but detached.

Finally, he leaned back, the brim of his cap casting his face deeper into shadow.

Eberhard’s jaw tightened, impatience flickering in his eyes. "You’d better start talking, then. I don’t have all day." He leaned closer and added in a low voice, "Nobody knows I’m outside the pack right now. I’m not risking being found out, so make it quick."

The man chuckled softly, the sound low and humorless. "That’s all the more reason to help my Alpha deal with yours," he said, his tone calm but edged with persuasion. "That way, you can finally do whatever you want without anyone ordering you around."

Eberhard’s lip curled in disgust. "Isn’t that what I’m already working on? And make no mistake," he spat, "that mutt is no Alpha of mine."

The man’s smirk deepened beneath the shadow of his cap, his fingers tapping once against the cup before setting the spoon aside.

"Careful how you say that," the man murmured. "You wouldn’t want anyone overhearing something that could get you killed."

Eberhard scoffed quietly, leaning back with an air of defiance. "If I were afraid of getting killed, I wouldn’t be where I am now."

"Fair point." The man shifted slightly forward, lowering his voice until it was barely above a whisper. "Then prove yourself. My Alpha wants assurance you’re not all talk. He’s given you time, and yet...Ares still breathes."

Eberhard’s glare sharpened. "Do I look like a fool to you? That bastard’s always with his Beta. You think it’s that easy with that annoying Ellie around?"

The man gave a low, amused laugh. "You always have excuses, Eberhard. Don’t tell me you’re scared of the young Beta wolf?"

"I’m not scared of anybody," Eberhard snapped, his hand balling into a fist on the table. "I’m just being careful."

"Excuses, excuses," the man said mockingly.

Eberhard’s nostrils flared, his patience thinning. "You think I’m sitting idle? I have a better plan. Once I make Ares mate with my daughter, and he ends up dead, no one will question my rule when I take over. They’ll all see it as a transition of power, not treason."

The man tilted his head. "My Alpha wouldn’t want to wait that long. He wants him dead as soon as possible."

Eberhard frowned. "He’ll have to wait. Rushing things will only raise suspicion."

The man leaned forward, his tone dripping with provocation. "You’re dragging your feet because you’re scared. Admit it."

Eberhard’s teeth ground together. "I said I’m not afraid! That pack should have been mine from the beginning. It was stolen from me, taken by Ares’s father like I was some dog waiting for scraps!"

"Then take it back," the man said simply, leaning even closer. "Help us remove him, and the power that was taken from you will return to its rightful owner. All of it."

Eberhard’s nostrils flared again. It sounded enticing, but his pride wouldn’t let him appear desperate. He adjusted his coat and muttered, "Tell your Alpha to be patient. I’ll handle things my way."

He narrowed his eyes. "Was that why you risked coming into Grimhowl territory? Just to say that?"

The man smiled faintly and leaned back in his seat. "No. I came to give you something that might help our plans."

Eberhard eyed him skeptically. "And what would that be?"

The man reached into his coat pocket, pulled out a sealed envelope, and slid it across the table.

Eberhard snatched it up without hesitation, tearing it open. His eyes scanned the letter quickly before they widened slightly. "The Convergence Ceremony... it’s happening in Grimhowl?"

The man nodded once. "Yup." He popped the ’P’ like it was a joke.

Eberhard’s eyes narrowed. "How did you get this information? Not even Ares knows the date’s been set."

"That’s for me to know," the man said flatly, "and for you to stop asking questions that might get you into real trouble."

Eberhard’s jaw clenched. He hated being talked down to, but the authority in the man’s tone made him hold his tongue.

The man leaned back again, his voice calm but final. "My Alpha wants Ares dealt with during the Ceremony. A little accident will do the trick, and the chaos of the Convergence will cover everything."

"That’s too soon," Eberhard hissed. "I still need time to convince him to mate with my daughter."

The man’s lips curled faintly. "I don’t care about your daughter or your pathetic schemes. My Alpha wants one thing, the cold body of Grimhowl’s Alpha before the ceremony ends."

He pushed back his chair and dropped a few bills on the table. "Make it happen, or you will bear my Alpha’s wrath."

Then he leaned in, voice low and dangerous. "You do not want that, do you?" He tapped Eberhard’s shoulder once as if sealing the bargain, then straightened and walked out of the coffee shop without so much as a back glance.

Eberhard sat frozen for a beat, the taste of fury rising in his mouth. The threat lodged like a stone in his chest. Rage flared, hot and stubborn, followed quickly by a colder, pricking dread. He forced himself to breathe, to count the breaths, to slow the panic that threatened to spike.

Regret followed close behind the anger. Why had he ever tangled himself with these people? He should have handled things on his own terms. Now he had let strangers set the timetable and hand him an order he could not openly carry out. Damn what have I gotten myself into, he thought, the words tasting like ash.

He slid the torn letter back into his coat pocket, fingers lingering on the paper as if to remind himself this was now a chain he could not shrug off. Eberhard stood, smoothing his coat with brittle hands, and without meeting anyone’s eyes he pushed through the café door and stepped back into the street.