Chapter 245: Not That Size Is— I’m Stopping.
GREYHALL CROSSING - 8:57 PM
LANDON SOLVEIL’S ETA: 1 HOUR 12 MINUTES
Over the mountains, Landon Solveil had 157 miles left of his journey to Greyhall Crossing. He was blissfully unaware that his mate had just politely told forty-eight Alpha Kings to go fuck themselves.
While one of her mates was in the air, another was about to come unglued.
Nicholas Shadowfell rose, chest heaving hard enough to rearrange furniture. The room turned. Every mouth closed together like a synchronized swimming team that specialized in shutting the fuck up.
"I’m going to say this once." His voice was so low the men in the rear had to crane forward like they were trying to hear a confession. "The next Alpha, Beta, warrior, or fucking stable boy who threatens that woman or her wolf, or questions her bloodline is starting a war with Shadowfell. I will treat it as an act of aggression on my house and it will be personal, which means I will respond with everything I have."
He let it sit.
Forty-eight chairs didn’t breathe.
"The men in this room should be ashamed. I certainly am."
He stepped away from the table and moved toward the doors.
"Shadowfell." Veilcross’s voice rang across the chamber. "You called this council and now you’re leaving?"
Nicholas didn’t stop or even pretend the question existed.
Doors opened. Doors closed.
The math sat on the table like a live grenade whose pin was already rolling.
The corridor was already ghost-town empty.
Completely fucking gone. Six men, seven pairs of boots, and a glowing woman had evaporated from Greyhall Crossing as if the place had never hosted their circus.
Nicholas Shadowfell stood in the hallway where he’d built alliances, crushed debates, and walked a thousand times with the swagger of a man who owned the whole fucking building.
Right now he felt like he didn’t even own the dust on the floor.
His wolf was furious and clawing at his chest so hard his ribs ached. The beast had been howling since he saw her in the chamber and it had only grown louder.
Mate is hurt. She left and you were silent.
He moved.
Lunaris wing. East corridor. Third floor. He knew the layout of Greyhall the way he knew his own heartbeat, and his legs covered the distance faster than his brain could assemble a plan for what he’d say when he got there.
He didn’t need a plan. He needed her to still be in the building.
The east corridor glowed with torchlight. One door was shut. Light spilled from the gap underneath and voices carried through the wood loud enough to make eavesdropping easy.
"We leave now then," one of her men offered. His tone was matter-of-fact like he had seen the writing on the wall and was handing over the exit strategy.
Nicholas’s blood went cold. Over his dead body would that be happening.
"We’re trained for it. We can handle the run," a second voice said. "You lead. We’ll follow."
His hand was halfway to the door when her voice stopped it. He froze.
"In the dark, my wolf is a giant glowing kill-me sign."
Her men laughed. A real laugh. The kind that only shows up when trust, exhaustion, and camaraderie are in the mix. A group that has collectively decided a situation is fucked.
Nicholas pulled his hand back. His jaw locked. Every instinct demanded he open the door, announce himself, and end whatever was happening. His brain said wait. Listen first.
He leaned against the wall beside the frame and didn’t move an inch.
"Based on all the white-wolf bullshit in there, pick the devil you want," her Beta said. "Also, just so you know, the collective room was disgusted by the Alphas. Even Shadowfell’s Beta put his head in his hands. This is over a map that lights up. That’s it."
Guinevere laughed this time.
"I have no idea why the whole thing lit up. I genuinely don’t even understand why Lunaris lit up considering our Alpha is missing and my brother is very much alive and sitting in a dungeon."
Silence.
"He was alive last night, that is..." Her voice trailed off. "You don’t think..."
"No," her Beta cut in with zero hesitation. "He’s alive and just fine. The map went rogue there."
Nicholas exhaled through his nose.
Another voice spoke next. Younger sounding and about as gentle as a kick to the balls mid-prayer.
"You also don’t have an Alpha wolf, Luna."
There was a pause that Nicholas translated to five men hitting the sixth with a look that could sterilize a bull.
"What? Respectfully, her wolf is the smallest one in the building." He paused. "I mean Luna. Your wolf is a female. Not that size is— I’m going to stop before I dig this hole any deeper."
"Gee. Here I was thinking my wolf was an Alpha wolf," she said deadpan.
Her men laughed again, harder this time. The sound came through the door and slammed into Nicholas’s chest like a fist that didn’t give a fuck about walls.
"My wolf agrees that without question, she is the least Alpha wolf in this entire building," she added. "Let me also clear up that if I had Alpha abilities I would have used them on Cassian years ago. That dream died on arrival."
She was in there making her men laugh.
His wolf made a sound he’d never heard it make. Low. Broken. The sound of an animal recognizing something it needed and understanding, with perfect clarity, that the door between them was not made of wood.
"What will it be, Luna?"
"Maria is our Luna and doing a wonderful job at it. Please call me Guinevere."
"Yes, Princess."
"I’m probably not supposed to do this, but I’m not an Alpha, so fuck protocol. Group vote. All in favor of leaving tonight—" she cut herself off. "Unanimous. We leave. Anyone want to freshen up or—" She stopped cold again. "Boots on. We’re gone."
Nicholas’s jaw tightened. He knocked. Yes, it was obvious as hell he’d been eavesdropping. He was aware of the optics and choosing to live with them.