Chapter 31 White Flags
JAIME
“You’re changing everything for a woman who’s gone?” someone asked.
“I’m changing everything because it’s what she tried to do for five years and we were too stubborn to listen.” I looked at them all. “Arya is gone. I accept that. But her influence on this pack? That doesn’t have to end. We can honor what she tried to build. Or we can stay stuck in the past and watch stronger packs surpass us.”
“The council will never agree to this,” Elira’s father said.
“Then the council can resign. All of you.” I pointed at them. “Every single council member who pushed me to divorce Arya, who deemed her unworthy, who staged that rogue attack to manipulate us. You’re done. Effective immediately.”
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
“You can’t—”
“I’m the Alpha. I can.” My voice was steel. “New council elections will be held in two weeks. Anyone can run. Including women.”
I let that land.
“This pack will change. With or without your cooperation. The only question is whether you’re part of that change or an obstacle to it.”
I stepped down from the platform, done with speeches.
As I walked through the crowd, pack members parted like water. Some looked angry. Others are thoughtful. A few—mostly the younger members and some of the women—looked hopeful.
Maybe it was too little, too late for Arya. But it was something for all the others.
Back in my office, I sat at the desk and pulled out a piece of paper.
Dear Arya,
I know this letter probably won’t fix anything. I know I don’t deserve forgiveness. But I need to say things I should have said five years ago.
You were never the problem. I was. Every day of our marriage, you tried. You showed up, you worked harder than anyone, you tried to make me happy, tried to be what the pack needed. And I couldn’t see it. I wouldn't see it.
I was so caught up in what I thought an Alpha should be, what a Luna should be, that I couldn’t appreciate what was right in front of me. You were everything we needed, and I treated you like you were nothing.
The pack is falling apart without you. I’m falling apart without you. Not because you held everything together—though you did—but because your absence made me realize what I destroyed.
I don’t expect you to forgive me. I don’t expect you to come back. You’re with someone who saw your worth immediately, who claimed you without hesitation. Someone who will probably love you the way you deserved from the beginning.
I just need you to know that you were enough. You were always enough. The failure was mine, not yours. And I will spend the rest of my life regretting what I lost.
I’m changing things here. I know winning you back is not impossible. But to honor what you tried to build. To make this pack into something you’d be proud of, even from afar.
I hope you find happiness, Arya. Real happiness. The kind I was too much of a fool to give you.
I’m sorry.
Jaime
I folded the letter, sealed it in an envelope, and set it aside.
I didn’t know if I’d ever send it. Didn’t know if it would make things better or worse. But I’d written it. Acknowledged my failures. Admitted the truth I’d been avoiding.
I loved her.
I’d probably always loved her, buried under layers of pride and expectations and stubbornness. And now it was too late.
My wolf whimpered, a sound of pure misery.
‘We lost her.’
‘I know.’
‘Can we get her back? We have to get her back.’
I stared out the window at the moon, remembering how Arya used to stand at this same window, looking out at the pack that never fully accepted her.
‘No,’ I told my wolf honestly. Even though my throat tightened with the unuttered words. ‘I don’t think we can. And maybe… maybe that’s what we deserve.’
A loud voice woke me up the nest morning,
“Alpha!” My new Beta burst into my room without knocking. “We have a problem.”
“What now?” I grumbled, sitting up from the bed.
“Elira. She left last night after your speech.”
“Good riddance.”
“And she took half the council with her. They’ve declared allegiance to the Western Pack.”
I sat up, suddenly alert. “She what?”
“Called you unfit to lead. Said you’re compromised by emotions. She’s trying to convince other packs that your leadership is weak.” He hesitated. “Alpha, this could mean war.”
War. Because I’d finally stood up for what was right.
“Let her try.” I stood, reaching for my clothes. “Any pack that sides with her over basic decency isn’t one I want as an ally anyway.”
“The Western Pack Alpha is demanding a meeting. He wants explanations.”
“Then he’ll get them. Set it up.” I pulled on my shirt. “And send a message to Silver Creek. I need to speak with Alpha Cyrus.”
“About Luna Arya?”
“About alliances. If Elira is building a coalition against us, we need allies too.” I met his eyes. “And maybe… maybe it’s time I stopped being too proud to ask for help.”
After he left, I stood there, feeling the weight of everything pressing down.
This was what happened when you finally did the right thing. The old guard pushed back. Tradition fought change. And sometimes you had to be willing to lose everything to gain what actually mattered.
My phone buzzed with a call. I checked and it was an Unknown number.
I almost ignored it, but something made me answer.
“Alpha Jaime.” The voice was male and carried absolute authority.
My wolf recognized it before my mind did. The Lycan King.
“Your Majesty.”
“I’m calling as a courtesy. To inform you that Arya—” he paused, and I heard the possessiveness in that pause, “—is safe and settling in well.”
“I’m glad.” The words hurt to say, but they were true. “I know I have no right to ask, but—”
“You want to know if she’s happy.”
“Yes.”
Silence. Then he spoke. “She’s healing. She’s discovering who she is beyond the wife you tried to make her. Beyond the Luna your pack rejected.” His voice hardened. “She’s becoming magnificent. As she always was.”
“I know.”
“Do you?” He didn’t sound convinced. “Or do you simply regret losing her now that others value what you didn’t?”
“Both,” I admitted. “I regret everything. And I know I don’t deserve her. But I still… I still love her. For whatever that’s worth.”
“It’s worth very little at this point.” He said it without malice, just stating facts. “But I’m not calling to rub your failure in your face. I’m calling because Elira and her faction are becoming a problem.”
“You know about that?”
“I know about everything that affects Arya’s safety. And a spurned female with a vendetta is exactly the kind of threat I need to eliminate.”
“I can handle Elira.”
“Can you?” The question hung heavy in the air.