The Alpha's Dark Solstice Claim

Chapter 17 - Retaliation.

Marybeth

The next time wasn’t subtle. It was deliberate. I found out because another parent forwarded me the Blackridge youth bulletin … an internal memo accidentally attached to a public scheduling email. “Advanced Safety Drill – Tier One Participants”

Names listed. Supervising officers assigned. Eli’s name had been highlighted. Then struck through. Annotation in the margin: “Reassign to observational group pending stability confirmation.” Stability confirmation.

My fingers went cold. This wasn’t rumour. This wasn’t playground whispers. This was documented. Blackridge documentation. Someone had altered his placement in writing. And someone had assumed I wouldn’t see it.

I didn’t wait. I didn’t call. I drove straight to Blackridge headquarters with the email printed in my hand. Rowan was in the upper conference room when I walked in without knocking. The elders looked up first. Then him. He didn’t look surprised. He looked alert.

“Give us the room,” he said calmly. No hesitation. No questioning my presence. The elders filed out quietly.

“Explain this.” When the door shut, I tossed the paper onto the table between us. His eyes scanned the page. His expression shifted almost immediately. Darkened.

“Who authorized this?” he asked.

“That’s what I’d like to know.” I glared at him. He didn’t defend it. Didn’t rationalize it. Didn’t hesitate. He pressed the intercom button on the table.

“Pull the youth training supervision logs for the past two weeks,” he said evenly. “Full audit.”

“Yes, Alpha,” came the response.

“Who sent you this?” He turned back to me.

“It doesn’t matter.” I rolled my eyes.

“It does.” He looked furious.

“Why?” I asked. “So, you can manage optics?”

“So, I can see how deep it goes.” The difference was subtle. But I felt it.

“You believe me,” I was a little surprised.

“Yes.” No qualification. No delay. “Yes.” The certainty hit harder than I expected.

“You’re not even asking if I misunderstood,” I said quietly, trying to process that he was on my side for once.

“I don’t think you misunderstand when it comes to him.” He stepped closer. Him. Not the boy. Not the child. Him. My pulse shifted.

“You said you wouldn’t let this happen again,” I said.

“I meant it.” Rowan sighed.

“You said that before.” I reminded him.

“And this time I’m not divided.” The words landed low. Heavy. True. I studied him carefully.

“You’ve already broken it,” I said.

“Yes.” His gaze didn’t waver. My breath caught.

“When?” I asked.

“An hour ago.” The room felt suddenly smaller. More intimate.

“Is it done?” I was astonished.

“Yes.” He nodded. He didn’t look like he was in pain. Wolves were in pain when they broke their bond, weren’t they?

“How did she take it?” I frowned.

“She didn’t.” That told me enough. Silence pressed between us. Charged. He stepped closer again, slower this time.

“You don’t have to fight alone,” he said. He took great care not to touch me.

“I’ve never been alone,” I replied.

“You know what I mean.” He frowned.

“Yes,” I nodded. “And you don’t get to protect me now,” I said firmly.

“Excuse me?” His eyes sharpened.

“You don’t get to suddenly decide you’re my shield because your bond is broken.” I watched his every move. He closed the distance fully.

“I never stopped wanting to,” he said quietly. The words hit like impact. My body reacted before my pride could. Heat. Pulse. Memory.

“You wanting me isn’t protection,” I whispered.

“No,” he agreed. “It’s truth.” My hand fisted in the front of his shirt before I could stop myself.

“This is bigger than us,” I said.

“I know.” He nodded. I saw it in his eyes. How he felt about me. He was no longer hiding it.

“Then act like it.” I softly growled.

“I am.” His hand came up slowly, hovering at my waist. Waiting. I didn’t step back.

“If you’re decisive,” I murmured, “prove it.” He leaned closer, breath warm against my mouth.

“You want me to prove it?” he asked.

“Yes.” My voice almost disappeared. He didn’t kiss me. He didn’t touch me further. He stepped back instead and picked up his phone.

“Freeze all youth program modifications,” he ordered. “Effective immediately. No reassignment without my direct approval.” He ended the call and looked at me again. “Is that decisive enough?” The shift was undeniable.

He wasn’t negotiating. He was commanding. And he wasn’t doing it for optics. He was doing it for Eli. And for me. The air between us thickened dangerously.

“You’re different,” I said softly.

“I’m done hesitating.” His eyes flashed something so fast that I missed it. My breath trembled. For a second … We almost closed the distance again. Almost erased the last inch. The door opened. Seraphina stood in the doorway. Composed. Impeccable. Thin smile in place.

“How efficient,” she said lightly. “I see Calloway has made herself comfortable.” Rowan didn’t move. Neither did I.

“You altered supervision assignments,” I said evenly.

“I adjusted risk exposure.” She tilted her head.

“For a six-year-old?” I asked.

“For a potential heir,” she corrected. There it was. Public. Intentional.

“You had no authority,” Rowan said coldly.

“I had concern,” she replied smoothly.

“You documented instability,” I said. She met my gaze directly.

“You’ve always taken what wasn’t yours,” she said. The words landed in front of witnesses. Two junior coordinators were standing just outside the door. They heard it. So did Rowan. The accusation wasn’t about Eli. It wasn’t even about pack. It was about him.

“You had a night,” she continued softly. “And somehow you think that entitles you.”

“Enough.” Rowan’s voice cut through the room. But the damage was done. Her composure cracked just slightly around the edges.

“You want visibility?” she asked him quietly. “This is what it looks like.” He stepped forward … not toward her. Toward me. A fraction. But visible.

“I won’t allow manipulation of my son,” he said. The possessive tone was unmistakable. Seraphina’s smile thinned further.

“Then audit everything,” she said. “See what you find.” She turned and walked away before either of us responded. The silence she left behind was louder than her accusation. Rowan exhaled slowly.

“She’s escalating yet again,” I said.

“Yes.” His jaw tightened.

“Are you ready for that?” I frowned.

“Yes.” A moment later, his phone buzzed. He glanced down. His expression shifted. “Supervision logs are in,” he said quietly.

“And?” I already knew the answer.

“The assignments were manually overridden.” He looked up at me.

“By whom?” I sighed. He held my gaze for a long second.

“Seraphina.” The word landed like a crack in stone. Not rumour. Not suspicion. Proof. Rowan didn’t speak immediately. He didn’t explode. He didn’t curse. He went still. And I had learned enough about him to know that stillness was far more dangerous than rage.

“She altered the clearance codes herself,” he said finally. “Not through delegation.”

“That’s traceable,” I frowned. I couldn’t believe she made such a huge mistake. Unless she believed she was untouchable. “She knew that.”

“Yes.” Rowan growled.

“Then she wanted you to see it.” Things were finally becoming clear.

“Yes.” He met my gaze. It wasn’t sabotage done in secret anymore. It was provocation. A forced confrontation. A dare.

“She’s pushing you to choose publicly,” I said.

“I already have,” he replied.

“Not fully.” I shrugged. His jaw tightened.

“No,” he agreed. “Not fully.” Because breaking a bond privately and breaking it before the pack were two different acts entirely. The first was personal. The second was war.

“She miscalculated,” I said quietly.

“Yes.” He breathed deeply as if trying to calm himself.

“Or she believes you won’t follow through.” That thought darkened his expression further.

“She’s counting on legacy pressure,” he said. “On elders valuing stability over truth.”

“And do they?” I asked.

“They value continuity,” he replied.

“And what is continuity without an heir?” I asked softly. The question hung heavy between us. Seraphina had failed to produce one. That had never been grounds for dissolution. Not alone. But undermining the only heir he did have … That was different. That was political suicide.

“She hasn’t just targeted Eli,” Rowan said quietly. “She’s endangered succession. And in doing so, she’s endangering Blackridge.” I saw it settling into place for him now. Not heartbreak. Clarity. His pack elders would have to stand with his decision to break his bond after that stunt.

They might grumble about optics. They might worry about human perception. But they would not defend sabotage of lineage. Seraphina had dug her own grave. She hadn’t given him an heir … And then she had tried to undermine the only heir he did have.

It was grounds enough. Not romantic. Not impulsive. Strategic. Necessary. It wouldn’t make the road ahead easier. Blackridge would fracture in quiet ways. Allies would reposition. Rival packs would test him.

Humans would notice the shift in leadership tone. And Seraphina … She would not fade quietly. But it would make the future possible. Possible to stabilize the pack around a legitimate successor. Possible to protect Eli without hiding him.

Possible to build something that wasn’t constructed from endurance and silence. Rowan looked at me then … not as an adversary. Not as temptation. As partner.

“I’ll call council tonight,” he said. There was no hesitation left in him. And that did something dangerous to my chest. Because I had wanted him to choose. And now he had. The cost of that choice was beginning to ripple outward.

“Are you ready for what this turns into?” I asked. He stepped closer … not touching. But close enough that I felt the heat of him.

“I’ve already survived seven years without you,” he said quietly. “I won’t survive losing him.” The admission struck deep.

“And me?” I asked before I could stop myself.

“I’m done losing you too.” His gaze didn’t waver. My breath caught. The hallway outside filled with movement … whispers, the subtle shift of pack members sensing structural change. They could feel it.

Wolves always could. The ground beneath Blackridge had shifted. And it wasn’t going back.

“Go home,” Rowan said softly. “Keep Eli steady.”

“And you?” I frowned.

“I finish this.” There was nothing reckless in his tone. No heat. No indulgence. Just decision. For the first time since returning to Alder Ridge, I didn’t feel like I was bracing for impact. I felt like we were moving toward something.

It would not be clean. It would not be peaceful. But it would be honest. And that was more than we had ever had before.

“Marybeth.” As I turned to leave, Rowan called after me.

“Yes?” I paused.

“No more hesitation.” The promise was quiet. Final. I nodded once. Then walked out of Blackridge headquarters knowing that by morning … A bond would be publicly broken. And the consequences of that break would begin reshaping both our packs.