Chapter 54 CHAPTER 054
"Overthrow Stone," Elder Voss said slowly, like he was testing the shape of the words.
"Replace him," his father corrected. "Before he does irreparable damage to this pack."
The silence didn’t last too long with everyone speaking at once.
"You're talking about removing an Alpha—"
"This is treasonous territory, Ethan—"
"The pack won't accept it without cause—"
"I have three names I'd put forward before anyone else's—"
His father raised one hand, and the room quieted by degrees.
"I'm not saying it's simple," his father said calmly. "I'm saying it's necessary." He looked around the table. "And I'm saying Harry is the right choice to lead."
Harry looked at his father sharply, his gaze hardening for a fraction.
"Excuse me?" Harry said, his time coming off a little bit offensive.
"He's young, he's already integrated into Stone's inner circle, he understands,” his father explained further, beckoning on his sharp tone to convince the elders.
"Ethan." Elder Rowan's voice was flat, devoid of any emotions. He let the word hang heavy in the air, his left hand stroking his beards. "My son Callum has been training for leadership since he was fifteen."
"With respect, Rowan, training and capability are not the same thing,“ Elder Rowan concluded, his eyes darting between Harry and his father.
The urge to walk out of that door overwhelmed Harry, but he stayed stiff, his jaw tightening. Despite not liking Stone, he believed that this meeting was treacherous and he feared this might result in a coup.
He won't allow his emotions to get in the way.
"And with respect to you," another elder cut in — Elder Bane, whose son Harry had fought twice in training and beaten once, "your son has done nothing to distinguish himself beyond proximity to Stone."
The temperature in the room climbed, Harry almost shrinking under the intensity of their gazes,his spine stiffening.
"My son will be a better fit."
"My son."
"Callum would have the eastern elders' full support."
"That means nothing without the western territories."
"My boy has the bloodline of a royalty."
"Bloodline means nothing if the boy is soft."
Voices rose, adrenaline pulsing through everyone's veins. If there was an emotion that was engraved on almost all the elders' faces, that'd be pure undiluted Rage.
Chairs scraped and someone's fist hit the table. Harry watched two men half-rise out of their seats, keeping their faces tight, and he felt the slow pull of something volatile creeping into the room.
"Enough!” A sharp voice sliced through the air, breaking the fog of noise.
His father's voice didn't rise. It didn't need to. It landed like a stone dropped into still water, and the ripples silenced everyone.
His father looked around the table slowly.
"We are not going to tear each other apart tonight," his father said. "That serves no one." He took a second pause. "We table this discussion until we can meet again with clearer heads and a plan we can all stand behind."
Reluctant silence settled over the table, wrapping around everyone.
One by one, chairs pushed back. Men stood, adjusting coats and avoiding each other's eyes. Some of them stuck together and started conversations that had nothing to do with their previous meetings.
Harry watched the elders leave, a sigh escaping through his lips. He was still seated, a bored expression sitting on his face.
His father lingered near the door until the others had filed out, then looked back at Harry.
"Get some rest," his father said.
Harry didn't respond as he watched his father leave. After the sound of the door clicking shut, Harry sat alone in the amber light for a long moment, staring at nothing in particular.
What kind of man are you? Harry got up and walked out into the cold.
His father found him the next morning before Harry had even finished breakfast.
Harry was standing at the kitchen counter, mug in hand, staring out the window at the grey sky, when his father appeared in the doorway. He was dressed like he was already in the middle of a workday. He also looked focused and purposeful.
Harry should have left earlier.
"I have something for you," his father said.
"Good morning to you too, Dad."
His father walked in anyway, placing a folded slip of paper on the counter beside Harry's mug.
"There's a pickup. Location's on there. I need it collected and brought to me today."
Harry looked at the paper.
"What is it?"
"Something important."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one you're getting." His father adjusted his watch. "It's straightforward. Go, collect, return."
Harry studied his father's face for a moment. His father was giving nothing away. He never did.
"Fine." Harry picked up the paper.
His father was already walking toward the door.
"Dad."
His father paused.
"After last night," Harry said carefully. "Whatever you're planning — just make sure you know what you're doing."
His father looked at Harry over his shoulder.
"I always do," his father said.
Then his father was gone.
The location led Harry further than he expected. Past the edge of town, down a road that thinned into gravel, surrounded on both sides by trees that pressed in too close. Harry parked where the path ended and stepped out, the quiet pressing against his ears.
The address pointed to an old storage building, half-hidden behind overgrown brush. The door was unlocked, which was either convenient or should have been a warning.
Harry pushed it open, the putrid scent of wet floor assaulting his nostrils.
Harry stepped in.
"Hello?" Harry called, feeling faintly ridiculous.
Nothing.
Harry moved further in, eyes adjusting slowly. Crates along one wall. A covered shape in the corner. Harry moved toward it, then he felt something move.
Before Harry could react, something slammed into him from behind.
Something slammed into him from behind.
Harry hit the ground before he'd even registered the impact, the breath punching out of his lungs on contact with the concrete floor. Instinct kicked in immediately, Harry rolled, throwing an elbow back, catching something solid.
Harry stood up immediately, his eyes falling on the masked man that stood before him.
Shit.