Chapter 67

THIRD POV

The council chamber felt cavernous, with Calantha standing alone in the centre. Thirteen elders sat in a semicircle before her, their faces stern and unreadable. The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating.

Calantha stood with her hands clasped in front of her, her gaze fixed on the floor. Her usually proud shoulders were hunched slightly, the embroidered collar of her formal dress digging into her neck as she swallowed hard.

"The council recognises Lady Calantha," Elder Darius announced, his voice echoing in the vast space. "You may speak."

Calantha lifted her gaze, her eyes moving from one elder to the next. Alpha King Arlo's seat remained conspicuously empty.

"Honoured elders," she began, her voice smaller than it had ever been in this room. "I come before you to offer my sincere apologies for my behaviour during our last meeting."

She paused, searching for the right words. The shame burned hot in her chest, made worse by the knowledge that her father had insisted on witnessing this humiliation. He sat off to the side, his expression inscrutable.

"My actions were..." She faltered, then straightened her spine slightly. "My actions were disrespectful to this council, to my Alpha King, and to the traditions we all hold dear. I spoke out of turn and with unbecoming emotion."

Elder Morwen leaned forward, her ancient eyes narrowed. "And what prompted such an outburst, Lady Calantha? We have not seen such behaviour from you before. It's shameful that you acted that way during your very first appearance at the council meeting."

Calantha felt a flush creep up her neck. "I allowed personal feelings to cloud my judgment. It was unprofessional and beneath the dignity of my position."

"Personal feelings regarding the Northern Territories?" Elder Thorne pressed.

Calantha's fingers tightened around each other. "Yes, Elder Thorne."

"And these feelings—" Elder Darius began, but Orion cleared his throat, interrupting.

"If I may, honoured elders," Orion interjected. "My daughter has acknowledged her error and offered her apology. The specifics of her misguided emotions are perhaps best addressed privately with her husband, our Alpha King."

The elders exchanged glances, a silent communication passing between them.

"Very well," Elder Morwen finally said. "Lady Calantha, this council accepts your apology. However, we support Alpha King Arlo's decision to relieve you of your duties until he deems appropriate."

Calantha bowed her head. "I understand and accept the consequences of my actions."

"You are dismissed," Elder Darius announced.

Calantha curtsied deeply, then turned and walked toward the doors, her footsteps echoing on the marble floor. She could feel thirteen pairs of eyes boring into her back, could almost hear their thoughts: weak, emotional, unworthy.

Orion followed her out into the corridor, his footsteps quick to catch up with hers.

"Calantha," he called, but she kept walking, her pace increasing.

"Calantha!" His voice was sharper now. "We need to discuss your return home."

She stopped abruptly and turned. "Return home? I'm not going anywhere."

Orion caught up with her, his expression severe. "Alpha King Arlo has made his position clear. Until you can comport yourself properly, you are relieved of your duties. It would be best for everyone if you spent this time reflecting at home."

"My home is here," Calantha replied, her voice tight. "With my husband."

"Your husband, who isn't even speaking to you," Orion pointed out. "Who didn't attend your apology?"

The truth of his words stung, but Calantha lifted her chin. "All the more reason to stay and work through this."

Orion sighed, suddenly looking older than his years. "My driver is waiting. At least let him take you for a drive, clear your head."

Calantha hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. "Fine. A drive."

The sleek black car was parked at the base of the steps, the driver, Marcus, standing at attention beside it. He was an older wolf, grey streaking his temples, who had served Orion's family for years.

"Lady Calantha," he greeted, opening the door for her.

Orion clasped her shoulder briefly. "I'll speak with Alpha King Arlo again. Perhaps he will reconsider his position."

Calantha said nothing as she slid into the backseat of the car. The door closed with a soft thud, sealing her in the quiet interior. Marcus took his place behind the wheel, and soon they were driving through the gates of the pack house grounds.

The silence stretched between them as they followed the winding road that led through the territory. Calantha stared out the window, watching the familiar landscape pass by. The training grounds, the communal gardens, and the school where young pack members learned their history and traditions.

"Where would you like to go, my lady?" Marcus finally asked, his eyes meeting hers in the rearview mirror.

"Anywhere," she replied listlessly. "Nowhere."

Marcus nodded and continued driving, taking a turn that led toward the ancient forest at the edge of the territory.

"May I speak freely, Lady Calantha?" he asked after another stretch of silence.

Calantha turned from the window, surprised. "Of course, Marcus."

The driver cleared his throat. "I've served your family for many years. I drove your mother to her wedding ceremony. I drove you to yours."

Calantha's expression softened at the mention of her mother. "I remember."

"In all those years, I've learned that sometimes, to get what we want, we need to appear to give others what they want."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

Marcus met her eyes in the mirror again. "You can assert your dominance without challenging authority directly. The most powerful wolves aren't always the ones who growl the loudest."

"You think I should have just accepted the Northern Territories' invitation without question?" Calantha asked, incredulous.

"I think," Marcus replied carefully, "that sometimes the longer path is the more effective one. Especially when dealing with tradition-bound elders and a husband caught between his wife and his duty."

The car slowed as they reached a clearing in the forest. Marcus pulled to a stop and turned in his seat to face her.

"Your father asked me to speak with you," he admitted. "To encourage you to be of good behaviour even while asserting your dominance. There are ways to get what you want without creating enemies."

Calantha's eyes narrowed. "So this drive was just another lecture? Another attempt to make me fall in line?"

Calantha wondered what her father wanted.

"No, my lady," Marcus said gently. "It was an attempt to help you navigate a difficult situation. Your father worries about you, in his way."

"His way," Calantha repeated bitterly. "Which means worrying about how my behaviour reflects on him."

"He worries about your happiness, too," Marcus insisted. "He remembers how excited you were to marry Alpha King Arlo. How much you wanted this life."

The mention of those early days. the hope, the love, the possibilities that had seemed endless, broke something in Calantha. She felt the tears before she could stop them, hot and sudden.

"I'm fed up," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I'm so tired of fighting to be heard, to be respected. I'm tired of smiling when the Northern Territories are mentioned, pretending I don't remember—" She cut herself off, wiping angrily at her tears.

Marcus's expression softened with genuine concern. He reached into his pocket and offered her a handkerchief.

"Perhaps," he suggested gently, "it's time to tell your husband why you react this way. Not the elders, not the council. Just him."

Calantha accepted the handkerchief, dabbing at her eyes. "He knows, yet he insists they come here. There's no point talking about Vespa to him again."

"You won't know until you try," Marcus pointed out.

Calantha looked out at the forest, at the ancient trees that had witnessed centuries of pack politics, wars, alliances, and reconciliations. How small her problems must seem in comparison.