CHAPTER 100: CHAPTER 100: THE STRONGEST IN THE ROOM

The voices of the alphas grew louder, some even standing as they shouted at him. Their anger filled the hall, the weight of their power pressing down on him, trying to force him to bend.

But Aeron did not move.

Suddenly, he lifted his head. His eyes, sharp and cold, cut through the noise. The chilling glare froze the air in the hall. The shouting stopped.

Even the older alphas flinched at that look, their voices dying in their throats. The alpha heirs, who just moments ago had stood tall with arrogance, quickly lowered their eyes to the ground. Their fists clenched tight, their jaws stiff with anger.

They hated it. They hated him. But they knew the truth. The bastard sitting before them was still the strongest one in this hall. If he wished, he could rip them apart in seconds.

And worse, this was only him. If his brothers were here—if all four of them stood together—then it would not just be defeat for the others. It would be doom.

The hall fell into silence. No one dared to speak. Aeron’s glare alone had crushed their pride.

Aeron looked down at the people in front of him, his voice steady but sharp.

"Don’t blame me," he said coldly. "It’s not my fault that your pack house is so unsafe. Anyone can walk in and leave as they please."

The words hit hard. The faces of the alphas darkened instantly. Some bold alphas slammed their fists on the table, some bared their teeth, anger rising like fire.

"You—!" one alpha growled, his voice shaking with rage.

But before he could say more, Aeron leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. His tone was mocking, yet calm enough to sting.

"How could someone just enter your so-called protected packhouse and throw a gas bomb inside?" Aeron sneered. "And not only that—every single alpha in there was blinded, stripped of their own scenting capabilities. Do you even understand how ridiculous that sounds?"

The room went silent for a moment. Every alpha’s jaw tightened. Some glanced at each other, their fists clenched so hard their knuckles turned white.

"It’s almost the same as you tying ribbons on yourself and offering them yourself in your pack house," Aeron continued, his lips curling into a cold smile. "Tell me, how could it be possible that someone sneaks into your territory and you don’t even have a single idea?"

His words cut deep. The silence that followed was heavy and suffocating.

Aeron’s sneer grew sharper. His eyes swept across the room, and wherever they landed, alphas flinched and shifted uncomfortably. Some looked away, and some lowered their eyes to the ground.

They wanted to shout back. They wanted to throw all the blame at him, to push the responsibility on his shoulders. But none of them could meet his gaze.

Because they knew the truth.

They wanted to blame him only to cover their own shame. They wanted to call him the one who lost the wit, but in their hearts, they knew...they had failed.

One alpha finally muttered through clenched teeth, his voice trembling, "But still it cannot change the fact that it was you who had lost the witch; the witch ran away from under your grasp."

Aeron’s eyes turned colder than ice. He tilted his head slightly, his lips curving in disdain.

"If it was because of me," he said slowly, "I wouldn’t give you a chance to question me."

The hall froze. His words sank like stone, leaving no room for doubt.

The alphas paled. Their anger turned into quiet fear. None of them dared to speak again.

Among them, Alpha Marcus was the most furious. His face was red, his chest rising and falling as he struggled to keep his composure. It was his pack house Aeron was ridiculing. Every word from Aeron felt like a direct slap to his face.

Heat spread through him, and his jaw twitched with anger. He wanted nothing more than to stand up and strike this arrogant bastard who dared speak so bluntly in front of everyone.

Marcus was one of the strongest alphas—no one had ever dared talk to him like this. Yet now, he could do nothing. The shame burned more than the anger.

His fists clenched, nails digging into his palms, but he stayed frozen, unable to find words to defend himself.

Then, suddenly, another voice rose above the tension.

"Enough."

The voice was deep, steady, and carried weight. All eyes turned. It was Alpha Datters, the leader of the Datters Pack.

He pushed his chair back slightly and leaned forward. His glare locked on Aeron.

"Don’t be arrogant, Alpha Aeron," Datters growled. His voice filled the hall, cold and commanding. "You must remember to show respect to your elders. Alpha Marcus is your elder. You cannot be so disrespectful to him."

The air thickened. Marcus straightened a little, his chest heaving as if those words gave him a breath of relief.

Datters did not stop. His tone hardened, every word pressing down on Aeron.

"And no one can deny this fact—you are the one who took the risk yourself. You made the promise. You said you would help the Alpha Fenrik get their son back. You even said you would teach the witches a lesson so they would not dare offend us again."

His eyes narrowed, his voice sharp like a blade.

"But in the end... you are the one who lost the witch."

The room went silent. The words sank deep into every alpha present.

One by one, the alphas around the table began to nod. Some muttered in agreement, and some gave sharp nods as if those words had finally put everything in place.

"Yes... that’s right," one said under his breath.

"Datters speaks the truth," another added firmly.

Marcus’s jaw loosened, and for the first time since Aeron’s cutting words, his anger eased slightly. His pride found support in Datters’ voice.

Even Fenrik, sitting nearby, slowly nodded.

Alpha Datters’ words had shifted the weight. Marcus could not simply be blamed anymore. The fault had been thrown back on Aeron—because in the end, it was true. He was the one who had promised. He was the one who had failed.

All eyes turned back to Aeron, waiting for his answer.