Chapter 49: Chapter Forty-nine

Chapter 49

Lia’s POV

The morning felt colder than it should have been.

Not in the air, in my bones.

I’d told myself last night that maybe I’d imagined it all. Maybe the elders’ words weren’t about Edgar, or me, or the life we were trying to patch together. But when I saw him at breakfast, the pale skin, the shadows under his eyes, the way his hand trembled just slightly as he lifted his coffee, I knew I’d been right to worry.

He didn’t meet my gaze much. He never used to avoid my eyes.

So when he left for the main house, telling me he had “another council matter,” I didn’t wait until the door shut to grab my cloak.

If he wasn’t going to tell me, I was going to find out.

The main house was already buzzing by the time I arrived. Pack members came and went, arms full of parchment, trays of tea, sealed letters. I kept my hood low, moving with the stream of people, ducking into a side corridor I knew would lead toward the council chamber.

That’s where I saw him, the guard from yesterday, stationed outside the chamber door. He didn’t notice me slip into the adjoining records room, its shelves stacked high with maps, old ledgers, and enough dust to choke on.

From there, I could hear them.

Edgar’s voice first, low, steady, but threaded with that edge he only got when he was holding back anger.

“You’ve made your position clear,” he said. “Now hear mine, I will not hand over my authority to a council vote. Not now. Not ever.”

An elder’s voice followed, smooth as oiled leather. “Alpha, we aren’t asking you to surrender authority. We’re asking you to protect it. If you were indisposed the council must ensure continuity.”

Indisposed. I hated that word already.

Another elder cut in. “We have the right to choose a successor who will hold the pack together. Our recommendation remains the same you name her now, before the full moon gathering, and stability is assured.”

Her.

I didn’t need to be a genius to know who they meant and it wasn’t me.

Edgar’s tone sharpened. “And if I don’t?”

A pause. Then the first elder again: “If you don’t, Alpha the council will act without your blessing. You are not in a position to refuse indefinitely. The pack needs to see decisive leadership. And your condition doesn’t inspire confidence.”

My heart twisted at that. Condition. So it wasn’t just tiredness. He was sicker than he’d told me.

There was the sound of a chair scraping back hard. Edgar’s boots struck the floor as he stood.

“You will not dictate my decisions,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “Not while I draw breath.”

The third elder spoke then, older, softer, but somehow heavier. “And what happens when you no longer do, Edgar? The blood curse is not merciful. If you die without a named successor of our choosing, there will be chaos. You know this.”

There it was. The threat laid bare.

They weren’t just maneuvering for control, they were preparing for him to die.

I had to press a hand to my mouth to keep quiet. My pulse thundered in my ears, drowning out a few muffled words until the conversation shifted again.

The elders outlined their choice, a name I knew, though it made my stomach turn to hear it. A woman with deep council ties, one who would follow their will without question. One who had smiled at me once across a banquet table and, in that smile, promised nothing but knives.

I didn’t stay to hear Edgar’s answer. I already knew it, he would resist as long as he could. But the way they spoke made it clear that “as long as he could” might not be long at all.

I slipped out through the servant’s corridor, the smell of polish and old stone pressing around me. The village outside was still bright and busy, but it felt like another world from what I’d just heard.

I didn’t go home right away. I walked. Past the training yards, past the orchard where the last apples clung stubbornly to their branches, past the stream where the water ran so fast it blurred into silver.

By the time I reached our house, my resolve had hardened into something cold and unshakable.

I couldn’t tell him I knew. Not yet. If I confronted him now, he’d either shut me out completely or try to protect me by feeding me half-truths.

No.

If I was going to stop the council from forcing their choice on him, I needed more than anger. I needed proof. I needed allies.

And I needed to be ready for the possibility, the one I didn’t want to think about but couldn’t ignore, that Edgar’s time was running out faster than either of us wanted to believe.

That night, I lay beside him in silence, staring at the ceiling while his breathing evened into sleep.

I reached for his hand under the blankets, holding it lightly, feeling the faint, steady pulse at his wrist.

I counted the beats until I couldn’t bear it anymore.

And I made myself a promise:

I would not let them take him from me while he still lived.

And I would not let them decide his future, or mine, when he was gone.

Not without a fight.