Chapter 86

Chapter 86
Gregory's POV

I woke at 7:30 AM to the sound of muffled voices from Nephele's room.

Not distressed voices—intimate ones. The kind that made me quietly grateful for the thick cottage walls while also making me wonder if this was what normal family mornings were supposed to sound like.

Rolling out of bed, I padded to the kitchen and immediately noticed the changes.

Kaedan's boots sat neatly beside the front door, still slightly damp from last night's dew.

Two coffee cups rested in the sink—Nephele's usual purple mug and a plain black one that definitely belonged to the Alpha King. The air still carried traces of their scents intermingled, intimate and claiming.

This was what domestic bliss looked like, apparently.

I started coffee and pulled eggs from the fridge, my hands automatically reaching for three plates instead of two.

Somewhere between cracking the shells and scrambling the contents, I realized I was smiling.

Twenty-four hours ago, I'd been terrified that their relationship would change everything, that I'd become the awkward third wheel in what had been our safe space.

Instead, the cottage felt... fuller. More complete.

I was setting the table when they emerged from the bedroom, both looking slightly rumpled and trying very hard to act casual.

Nephele's hair was messed up in a way that had nothing to do with sleep, and there was a faint red mark on her neck that she kept trying to hide with her collar.

Alpha King kept touching her—his hand lingering on her lower back, fingers trailing along her wrist when she handed him coffee, thumb brushing across her lips when he thought I wasn't looking.

The air between them practically crackled with unresolved tension, like they were having an entirely different conversation with their bodies than the polite morning pleasantries coming out of their mouths.

When Nephele reached for the orange juice, Kaedan stepped close behind her, his chest pressing against her back as he reached for something on the counter.

She leaned into him for just a moment, and I caught the soft intake of breath, the way her eyes fluttered closed.

They broke apart quickly when they realized I was watching, but not before I saw Kaedan's hand squeeze her hip possessively.

"Morning," I said, keeping my voice carefully neutral. "Hope you're hungry."

"Starving," Kaedan replied, and something in his tone made Nephele blush.

"So we're officially doing the domestic bliss thing now?" I asked, setting down the last plate.

The direct question made them both pause, but then Nephele laughed.

"Apparently," she said, moving to help serve. "How are you feeling about that?"

"Honestly? It's weird but good weird." I poured orange juice, considering my words. "Like maybe this is what normal families actually do."

"Normal families don't usually have Shadow Wolf Queens and wolfless brothers," Kaedan pointed out, but his tone was gentle.

"No," I agreed, "but they have people who care about each other figuring out how to make it work."

Nephele's smile was radiant. "Exactly."

As we ate, I pulled out the notebook I'd been working on since we last talked about it. Pages of carefully written plans, training schedules, and tactical exercises.

"I've been thinking about what we discussed," I said, sliding the notebook toward Kaedan. "The combat training program."

His eyebrows rose as he flipped through the pages. "Jesus, Gregory. This is incredibly detailed."

"I had time to think," I said, trying not to sound too eager. "Physical conditioning, defensive techniques, weapons training for when shifting isn't possible. Plus psychological resilience exercises."

Kaedan studied the pages with the focused attention he usually reserved for military strategy. "This section on fighting while injured—where did this come from?"

"Experience," I said simply. "Ophelia made sure I could function even when my body was breaking down. Figured I might as well put that knowledge to good use."

"The pack members would benefit enormously from this," Kaedan said, genuine enthusiasm in his voice. "Most wolves rely too heavily on their supernatural abilities. They're vulnerable when those fail."

For the first time since learning I was wolfless, I felt genuinely useful. Not tolerated or accommodated—needed.

"You really think it would help?"

"I think it could revolutionize how we approach combat training," Kaedan said firmly. "When can you start?"

The question made something warm unfurl in my chest. "Whenever you want."

That's when Kaedan's phone rang.

Kaedan's POV

Rook's name on the screen made my stomach clench. My Beta wouldn't call this early unless something was seriously wrong.

"What's the situation?" I answered.

"We need you back here, Alpha," Rook said without preamble. "There's been... developments regarding the Gregory situation."

Fuck.

"What kind of developments?"

"Some of the senior pack members are calling for a formal review," Rook said carefully. "They're not questioning your authority, but they're concerned about bringing a wolfless into training positions without traditional vetting protocols."

I caught Nephele's eye, watching her expression shift from curiosity to grim understanding.

"Who's leading this?" I asked.

"Elder Marcus and a few of the old guard," Rook confirmed. "They're saying personal feelings might be overriding pack safety considerations. They want a formal assessment before Gregory starts training other members."

Through our mate bond, I felt Nephele's spike of anxiety mixed with protective anger. She'd known acceptance wouldn't come easily, but having it challenged so directly hit hard.

I felt my own anger rising. "And what's your position on this?"

"Honestly? I think they're making a mistake," Rook said. "But they've called for a pack council meeting. If you're not here to address their concerns directly, this could escalate into a formal challenge to your judgment."

"How much time do I have?" I asked.

"The meeting's set for this afternoon to discuss immediate concerns," Rook said. "But Elder Marcus is pushing for a formal evaluation period. If you're not here to control the narrative, they might vote to implement a three-day assessment protocol."

"Three days?"

"Standard pack protocol for reviewing questionable appointments," Rook explained grimly. "After that, there's a formal vote. If Gregory doesn't pass their assessment, they can override your decision with a two-thirds majority."

Fuck. That meant I had exactly three days to convince a group of traditionalists that a wolfless man deserved their trust.

Every protective instinct I had screamed against leaving them now, when Gregory was about to face judgment from my own pack members.

But I also knew that avoiding this confrontation would only make it worse. If I didn't address their concerns directly, they might override my decision entirely.

"I'll be there in three hours," I said.