The hall had gone quiet after Belinda’s father spoke. You could almost hear the tension dripping from the ceiling, thick and sharp, as if it were cutting into the air. We sat there, not saying anything at first, just watching him.
"The Luna role remains empty," he said, glancing around like he was testing the room. "It’s tradition, as you know, that Luna comes from the Beta’s bloodline. My family has always produced women fit to rule beside the alphas. Women who understand our customs. Our strength. Our laws."
He paused, standing a little taller.
"And with due respect, my daughter is ready. The pack awaits a Luna. And I believe it is time the seat is filled. Properly."
There was a long silence after he finished. Everyone else seemed to be holding their breath.
I cleared my throat and stepped forward, slowly. "We hear you," I said calmly, though every muscle in my body was tight. "And we respect your loyalty to tradition."
Kael stayed silent, his face unreadable, but I knew that face too well. I’d seen it in battle, in silence before storms, and behind closed doors when his fury was buried under layers of cold calculation. That kind of stillness was never peace; it was a warning. A quiet build-up of pressure waiting to strike.
Ramon didn’t even look up. His fingers tapped slowly against the wood of the table, his gaze fixed on some spot in the distance, like none of this concerned him. Like he’d already decided I should handle the conversation, and whatever outcome followed would be mine to clean up or enforce.
So I leaned forward, letting my voice carry but staying calm. Controlled.
"Belinda is... well prepared," I said, meeting the Beta’s eyes. "And yes, she’s strong. She understands what it means to be Luna. She has been trained for it."
The Beta gave a small nod. Not of gratitude. Not even of recognition. It was smug, like he believed the war was over and he’d just claimed victory.
I saw it when men thought they had control. I saw it right before they made mistakes that cost them everything.
Still, I kept my voice level. "We appreciate everything you and your family have done for this pack. Generations of loyalty. Generations of order. And yes, we will work toward that."
His voice was low and cool, almost disinterested. But every word hit like iron. "Belinda is the only Luna we acknowledge."
The Beta’s smile widened, all teeth and pride. He looked around the council room like he expected applause or confirmation. Maybe even gratitude.
I straightened, watching him carefully now. His smile was too wide. Too confident. That wasn’t relief on his face; it was ambition. The kind that made men forget themselves.
Ramon stopped tapping.
Kael leaned forward just slightly, enough to break his stillness. "But understand something," he said, voice sharp now. "This isn’t a negotiation."
I watched as he stepped forward slowly, his eyes locked on him. He didn’t raise his voice; he didn’t need to. Coldness alone did the job.
"You are the Beta," he said, each word deliberate. "You are not the Alpha. And you will never speak to us in that tone again."
Belinda’s father’s expression faltered. For a moment, just a flash, I saw fear flicker in his eyes. He blinked, tried to collect himself. "I didn’t mean..."
"It doesn’t matter what you meant," Damon cut in, his voice firm and steady beside me. "You don’t tell us what is proper. You don’t give us advice. You follow."
The man’s lips parted like he wanted to say something else, but he wisely held back. The proud gleam he wore just minutes ago was gone, replaced now by a dull, uncomfortable awareness of how far he’d overstepped.
Kael took another step forward. His jaw clenched, not out of anger, but control. "The council doesn’t decide who our Luna is," he said. "We do. You understand that, yes?"
His head bobbed quickly. "Yes, Alpha."
He swallowed. "Yes, Alpha Kael. I understand."
"Keep to your lane," Kael said sharply, his eyes narrowed. "And maybe next time, watch your tone."
There was no room left for doubt in his voice, no softness, no diplomacy. Just cold finality.
He didn’t wait for a response. He gave one short, firm nod, then turned and walked off, his shoulders square, his steps echoing through the long room like a closing door.
Damon followed immediately, not looking back once. I trailed after them silently, the heat of the confrontation still lingering in the air like smoke after fire.
The room stayed frozen.
No one spoke. No one moved. You could almost hear the collective breath the elders held in their chests, afraid to exhale. Some lowered their eyes to the table, some stared at the spot where Kael had been, and others looked to each other as though unsure what had just happened, unsure how quickly power had shifted.
Belinda’s father remained seated, his face pale and stiff, a slight tremble in his hand as he reached for his goblet of water. He didn’t drink it.
I glanced around at the remaining council members, most of whom had remained silent during the exchange, either out of fear or wisdom. A few looked visibly uncomfortable, embarrassed even, by what had just unfolded.
I cleared my throat lightly and stepped forward.
"The meeting is over," I said calmly, breaking the silence. "You all may leave now."
One of the elders opened his mouth slightly, like he had a question, but thought better of it. He shut it again and stood, giving a slight bow of respect.
"We have made ourselves clear," Damon added as he paused briefly in the doorway, his voice calm but edged with warning. "Let that be the last time anyone forgets who leads this pack."
The elders nodded, murmuring their agreement, one after another. Chairs scraped quietly as they rose, some casting wary glances toward Belinda’s father, whose face was now tight with humiliation. He didn’t meet anyone’s eyes.