Chapter 19 - Dissolution
1175 Words
Rowan
Blackridge gathered fast. Emergency assembly carried weight. It meant blood or betrayal. Death or fracture. Tonight, it was a fracture. The council chamber filled in disciplined silence. Elders first. Senior enforcers.
Administrative heads. Then the wider pack … standing room only along the back wall. No humans. No pretence. Just wolves in modern clothing, pretending fluorescent lighting made ancient decisions easier. Seraphina stood at my right.
Poised. Perfect. If someone had walked in unaware, they would have seen stability. Leadership. A united front weathering a minor procedural storm. She wore charcoal. No jewellery. No outward sign of distress. She had always known how to perform Luna. I did not look at her when I began.
“Blackridge leadership has identified procedural interference within youth training protocols,” I said evenly. “Specifically concerning succession protection.” A ripple moved through the room at that word. Succession.
I tapped the screen behind me. Surveillance stills illuminated the wall. Timestamped. Credentialed. Clear. Manual override entries. Two dates. Two drills. Two redirections. Murmurs rose. I did not raise my voice to silence them. They silenced themselves.
“The credentials used in both overrides belong to Luna Seraphina Blackridge.” Silence. Not shock. Impact. I turned then … not dramatically … just enough to face her. She did not flinch. “For the record,” I continued, “the redirection removed my son from designated succession-level protection protocols.”
The possessive pronoun was deliberate. Mine. An elder cleared his throat.
“Was this authorized by Alpha?” he asked carefully.
“No.” I looked straight at the elder. Another elder shifted.
“Luna,” one of them said, voice controlled, “what is your explanation?” Seraphina inhaled once, slow and measured.
“My action was preventative,” she said calmly. “The child’s integration remains politically sensitive. I sought to limit destabilization.”
“By altering clearance levels?” an elder pressed.
“By moderating exposure.” She stood her ground knowing she was fighting to keep her title and position in the pack.
“You undermined formal succession review,” another said.
“I protected this pack from premature consolidation around an untested heir.” She held their gaze. There it was. Not denial. Reframing. She was still performing. I stepped forward slightly.
“You did not consult me,” I said.
“You were compromised,” she replied. A few heads turned. The word lingered.
“Compromised,” I repeated.
“Yes.” She nodded.
“And by that, you mean?” I pushed.
“Emotionally.” The room froze. This was no longer procedural. This was personal. “You have allowed past attachment to influence present governance,” she continued, voice steady. “You cannot deny that,” Murmurs again. This time sharper.
“You believe this is about Marybeth Calloway,” I said.
“I believe it has always been about her,” she replied. There it was. Public. Irreversible. The elders’ eyes moved between us.
“Alpha,” one elder said quietly, “Is there truth to that?” The room tightened. I could deny it. For stability. For optics. For ease. Or I could do what I should have done seven years ago. I did not answer immediately.
And in that silence … Everything spoke. Seraphina’s composure cracked for the first time.
“There,” she said, her voice rising slightly. “You see? He won’t deny it.”
“Luna … ” an elder began.
“No,” she snapped, turning toward the council fully. “I gave this pack seven years. I endured scrutiny. I endured failure to conceive. I endured whispers that he should take another mate.” Her voice wavered … not with weakness … but with fury.
“He gave her a night,” she said, eyes cutting toward me. “And she gave him a son.” The chamber went still enough to hear breathing. “You would dismantle me,” she continued, “for a woman who left.”
“I am dismantling this bond,” I said calmly, “because you endangered my son.” That was the line. Not Marybeth. Not desire. Not regret. My son. The words landed like a gavel strike. The elders shifted. Several nodded subtly. Succession interference was unforgivable.
“You speak of danger,” Seraphina said sharply, “but you are the one destabilizing us.”
“I am correcting destabilization,” I said through gritted teeth.
“You love her,” she said. Not accusation now. Declaration. The chamber felt suspended in glass. I did not deny it. I did not confirm it. I simply held her gaze. And said nothing. The silence was louder than the confession.
It travelled through the room like thunder without sound. Seraphina laughed once … short and sharp.
“There it is,” she whispered. An elder rose slowly.
“Alpha,” he said, voice grave, “What is your decision?” I did not hesitate.
“I am dissolving the bond between myself and Seraphina Blackridge,” I said evenly. “Effective immediately under emergency governance clause, the succession protection statute.” Shock rippled outward.
Some gasps. Some anger. Some quiet acceptance. Seraphina’s face went pale for half a second. Then hardened.
“You think this protects him?” she asked quietly.
“Yes.” I glared at her, challenging her to say something.
“You think this strengthens you?” She pushed.
“Yes.” I knew she was going to push it. She was not the type of woman to just back off.
“You think this ends because you say so?” A tinge of amusement crossed her face. I met her gaze.
“This ends because you crossed a line.” I fought the urge to growl. Her composure shattered then … not loudly … but visibly.
“You think this ends with me?” she said. The words carried something deeper than threat. Not revenge. Prediction. The room felt colder suddenly. Elders exchanged glances. They heard it too. This fracture would not remain contained.
Rival packs would test the boundary. Humans would notice political shifts. Internal loyalties would recalibrate. But the bond was already broken. And I would not step back into it.
“I will coordinate transitional Luna authority through council until further notice,” I said firmly. “Blackridge remains stable.” The words were not boast. They were command. Security personnel stepped subtly closer … not to seize her … but to mark the moment. Seraphina straightened slowly.
“You chose,” she said.
“Yes.” I nodded. She studied me one last time. And in her eyes, I saw not hatred … But calculation.
“You think this ends with me?” she repeated quietly. No one answered. Because we all understood. It did not. And as the chamber filled with controlled chaos … I knew one thing with absolute clarity: The bond was dissolved.
The fracture had begun. And whatever came next … Would not be quiet.
- Writer
