The heavy oak door creaked as Alpha Marcus stepped into his son's office. The scent of old books and leather filled the room, mingling with the faint smoke from the fireplace. Steve sat behind his desk, the lamplight sharpening the planes of his face. His jaw was tense, his hands clasped tightly together as if holding back an invisible storm.
"Son," Marcus began, his voice low but commanding, "we need to talk."
Steve didn't look up immediately. His eyes lingered on the papers before him, reports on rogue sightings along the borders, patrol schedules, hunting quotas. Anything but this conversation.
"I already know what you're going to say, Father," Steve replied coldly.
Marcus's gaze hardened. He moved closer, planting his palms firmly on the desk. "Then you know I am right. It's time you stopped stalling. The pack needs stability, and Selene's family offers that. Her father controls half the southern territory imagine what uniting with them could mean for us."
Steve's wolf snarled inside him at the mention of Selene's name, but he masked it with a calm, practiced stare. "Stability should not come at the price of lies."
"Lies?" Marcus's brow arched. "You speak of duty as if it's a curse. Do you think being Alpha is about what you want? It is about what is best for the pack. A Luna must bring strength, alliances, and respect. Selene has all of that."
"And what of honor?" Steve countered, rising from his chair. His voice was sharp, echoing in the chamber. "Selene is cruel, manipulative, and power-hungry. A Luna should care for the pack, not mock and trample the weakest among us."
Marcus's lips tightened into a thin line. "You're letting childish emotions cloud your judgment. Stop worrying about the omegas. Stop...." His gaze flickered, sharp as a blade. "Unless… this is about her."
The word hung in the air, heavy with accusation.
Steve's fists clenched at his sides. "This has nothing to do with Abigail."
Marcus's eyes narrowed. "Then prove it. Claim Selene. Seal the alliance. Show your pack that you are a leader who puts them above your… impulses."
The silence that followed was suffocating. Steve's wolf howled against the demand, his chest tightening as if chains were being locked around his heart.
Finally, Steve said through gritted teeth, "I will do what is best for the pack. But do not mistake silence for agreement."
Marcus studied him for a long moment, then straightened, adjusting his cloak. "You will see reason, Steve. Whether by choice or by duty." With that, he turned and left, the echo of the door closing behind him like a verdict.
Alone in the office, Steve pressed his palms against the desk, his breath ragged. His father's words clawed at him, but another image refused to leave his mind, Abigail, standing alone by the river, eyes filled with pain and defiance.
He shut his eyes, fighting the pull of a bond he swore he would never accept.