Chapter 39 Chapter Thirty-Nine
Later that evening, the dining room of the Blackthorn packhouse was quiet but tense. The long mahogany table, polished to a mirror shine, stretched between the families of two powerful Alphas. On one side sat Julian’s parents—Alpha James and his mate, Vanessa. On the other, Alpha Garrick, his sharply dressed Luna, and their son Christian, who lounged with casual arrogance, drumming his fingers against the wood with every passing second.
Elara sat poised halfway down the table, her eyes flicking toward the entrance for the fifth time in as many minutes.
Omega staff moved silently around the room, setting down dishes with refined etiquette—roasted meats, charred root vegetables, spiced wild rice—but Elara barely touched her wine. Her fingers gripped the stem of the glass a little too tightly, her lips tightening every time the door failed to open.
Her jaw clenched.
He was late.
James caught the subtle shift in her demeanor and didn’t bother hiding his sigh. He reached out through the mind link—sharp and direct:
“Julian. Get over here. Now.”
Elara forced a light laugh and turned to her parents with a saccharine smile. “He must be finishing up a call. You know how duties are.”
Internally, the mask cracked.
He better fucking show up.
Or there will be hell to pay.
And then—
The double doors opened with a soft creak.
Julian strode in—unapologetically tardy. A crisp white button-up clung to his broad frame, the sleeves rolled once at the forearms. Black slacks. No tie. No jacket. His hair—still those wavy tresses—untouched by the stylist’s hands.
Of course, Elara thought bitterly. Missed the appointment.
But the flicker of irritation was quickly swallowed by something else.
Relief.
Her grip on the glass eased just slightly.
He showed up.
She won.
Elara’s lips curled into a triumphant smile as Julian crossed the threshold.
“Darling,” she said, voice smooth as silk and twice as smug, “so glad you could finally join us.” She gestured gracefully to the empty chair beside her.
But Julian didn’t so much as glance her way.
Alpha Garrick rose slightly, offering a broad, firm smile. “Alpha Julian. So good to see you again, son.”
Julian gave a shallow nod of acknowledgment, his gaze sweeping briefly over the table—then without a word, he walked to the opposite side and took the empty seat beside his mother.
The room tensed.
Elara’s smile faltered, her hand freezing mid-gesture. Her spine straightened as confusion bled into disbelief. Her father blinked, momentarily thrown, and even Alpha James lifted an eyebrow, his look sharp—borderline incredulous.
It was a statement. A quiet one. But everyone at the table heard it loud and clear.
Then—
The doors opened once more.
Jace entered with a slow, measured stride, dressed in all black, his expression unreadable.
Alpha Garrick turned toward him with a faint smirk, though the edge was unmistakable. “Beta Jace,” he said, dipping his head ever so slightly. “I wasn’t aware we were inviting our Betas to family dinners.”
“My Beta is family,” Julian said coolly. “He’s like a brother to me.”
Then Julian stood again, sliding his chair back with deliberate calm. His voice, though even, carried weight.
“He’s not here for dinner. I asked him to be here because there’s something I want to say—to everyone in this room. Face to face. Out of respect.”
Elara’s chair scraped lightly against the floor as she leaned forward, her smile straining at the edges.
“Julian,” she said, voice still laced with honey, “whatever this is about, surely it can wait until after the ceremony tomorrow.”
Julian didn’t blink.
“There won’t be a ceremony tomorrow.”
The words hit like a thunderclap.
For a moment, the room was completely silent—frozen in disbelief.
Vanessa’s brows lifted in quiet shock. Alpha Garrick’s glass halted midway to his lips. Elara didn’t move, as if her brain hadn’t yet accepted the sound.
It was Alpha James who spoke first, his laughter brittle.
“He’s joking,” he said quickly, eyes darting to Garrick, then back to his son. “Julian, don’t be ridiculous—”
“I’m not joking.” Julian’s voice was level, emotionless.
Elara sat back slowly, eyes wide, her face blank as though slapped clean of expression. Her fingers dug into the arms of her chair.
Julian turned to her—not cold, but not gentle either.
“We’re not compatible, Elara. I see that clearly now. I hope… you can understand.”
Elara didn’t speak.
But her father did.
Alpha Garrick shoved back his chair and rose to his feet, fists clenched at his sides.
“You’re making a mistake, boy,” he growled, his composure slipping. “My daughter is a gem—respected, powerful. Any Alpha would be honored to call her Luna.”
“Then she won’t have any problem finding one,” Julian said, cool and unshaken.
Christian slammed his palm down on the table and stood next.
“How dare you disrespect her like this?” he snapped, glaring at Julian. “You’re a fool. My sister would make a great Luna.”
Julian didn’t flinch.
“Then let someone else have the honor.”
The silence that followed was heavier than before.
Elara let out a breathless, disbelieving laugh.
It started small—sharp, disjointed. Then it grew, twisting into something dark and jagged. A laugh with no joy, only venom. She stood slowly, pushing back her chair with an eerie calm.
“Does this have anything to do with your little Omega pet?” she purred.
Julian’s expression didn’t shift, but his eyes locked on hers—tightening, narrowing. His mind raced. How much does she know?
Elara’s smile stretched wider, predatory.
“I know everything,” she said sweetly. “I followed you, Julian. To that little town. I saw you with her.” Her voice dropped to a hiss. “The wolfless orphan? Kaelani?” She spat the name like it burned her tongue. “That’s who you’ve been obsessing over? That garbage?”
A heavy silence dropped over the table—until Alpha Garrick turned sharply toward his daughter, eyes narrowing like he’d seen a ghost.
“What are you talking about?” he demanded.
Christian blinked, sitting straighter.
“Kaelani?” he echoed, frowning. “Wait—Omega Kaelani? Gray-eyed Kaelani?”
Elara glanced over her shoulder at him and gave a twisted little smirk.
“Yes. She’s been hiding in some pathetic little town, living among humans like the stray mutt she is.”
Christian turned to his father, stunned.
“You told me you sold her off to some Beta.”
Julian’s entire body tensed.
He looked from Christian to Garrick, something dangerous stirring behind his eyes. Did he hear that right?
Alpha Garrick’s face darkened. “Will you shut your damn mouth!” he barked, glaring at his son.
But the damage was already done.
The air in the dining room had shifted—and Julian wasn’t the only one who felt it.
Julian’s gaze snapped to Elara, his glare a sharpened blade.
“Leave her alone.” His voice was low, lethal.
His eyes swept over each of them—Elara, Garrick, Christian—issuing the same silent warning: don’t touch her.
But Elara only laughed.
“Oh, darling,” she cooed derisively, “I already took out the trash.”
Julian froze.
“I called the Council myself,” she continued, smiling like a viper. “She’ll be standing before the Elders by morning, awaiting her sentencing.” She leaned forward, her voice dripping with sadistic glee. “But don’t worry. I’m sure she’ll be ordered back to our pack. And when she is…” she tilted her head. “I’ll make sure she’s put to good use.”
The room stilled.
“As punishment, she’ll be our pack breeder,” Elara went on, eyes glittering, “we’ll assign her to satisfy the men with… uncontrolled ruts. I’m sure she can handle several wolves at once.”
A growl ripped from Julian’s chest, primal and furious.
In one violent motion, he overturned the heavy oak table with a deafening crash, dishes shattering as it slammed into the wall. He launched forward, claws out, eyes blazing black.
“YOU—”
Jace acted fast.
He stepped between them just in time, grappling Julian by the arms, straining to hold him back.
“Julian, no!”
On the other side, Alpha Garrick and Christian jumped to shield Elara, shoving her behind them.
She stood stunned, breath caught in her throat—heart racing.
Julian snarled, still struggling, still seething, barely restrained.
Alpha James moved in next, grabbing his son’s arm with both hands. “Stand down, now!” he barked.
But Julian’s eyes were locked on Elara—nothing else existed.
The fury in them scorched.
She stared back, rattled by the force of it. Was he going to kill her? Over that Omega?
The thought made her stomach turn.
No. It appalled her.
Alpha Garrick turned sharply toward his daughter, his face a mask of fury and panic.
“What did you do?” he demanded, voice taut with urgency.
Elara blinked, caught off guard. “I—I just did what I was supposed to.” Her voice faltered as she glanced between the stunned faces around her.
Then she looked back at Julian, her composure snapping back into place like a mask. “The Council will be coming for you too,” she taunted. “I was going to help you… defend your honor. But now?” Her smile twisted cruelly. “Now I’ll watch as they strip you of your title for failing to report a rogue.”
Before Julian could answer, Jace’s voice cut through the tension like a blade.
“But she’s not a rogue, is she, Alpha Garrick?”
All eyes shifted to the older Alpha.
Garrick’s face paled. His jaw flexed.
Julian shrugged off the two men holding him back, finding his composure.
“I suppose your father will have to explain why he kept an unregistered Lycan hidden in his pack for eighteen years.”
Elara and Christian looked stunned.
“What…?” Christian muttered.
Across the room, Garrick’s Luna—calm and calculating—turned to her mate, her voice sharp and low.
“Garrick. What is he talking about?”
Garrick’s eyes darted between them all—his family, Julian, James. The walls were closing in.
“Nothing. They’re speaking nonsense,” he growled. “We’re leaving.”
He didn’t wait for permission. He stormed toward the doors.
Christian followed, eyes still wide with confusion.
Elara lingered behind her mother just a moment longer. Her gaze met Julian’s, and that smirk returned—slow, venomous.
“I’ll see you soon, Julian. I’ll be front row… when the Council tears you — and that omega bitch — apart.”
And then she turned, her heels clicking against the polished floor as her figure slipped into the shadows.
Julian’s father was the first to speak after the Blackthorn doors slammed shut.
“Are you insane?” he thundered, striding forward with clenched fists. “Do you realize what you’ve just done? You’ve humiliated your Luna-to-be, insulted her family, and jeopardized everything we’ve built!”
But Julian didn’t flinch.
“What we’ve built?” he echoed, voice steel. “You mean the alliance you traded my future for?”
“You ungrateful little bastard—”
“No,” Julian cut in, calm and lethal. “I won’t let you offer up my life like some sacrificial pawn. Not for this pack. Not for your politics. Not anymore.”
Vanessa stepped between them, hands raised in plea. “Enough. Both of you. Please—”
But the clash only escalated — father and son squared off in the wreckage of the dining room, voices rising above the broken glass and splintered wood, the tension razor-sharp and bleeding into the air.
And while the room erupted in chaos, Jace quietly stepped away.
He moved like smoke, slipping through the door unnoticed. In the hallway, he dug into his jacket and pulled out his phone. His thumb hovered just a second before tapping the contact.
One ring. Two.
Then—
“Hello?”
Jace’s voice was low. Controlled.
“It’s me. Jace.” A pause. Then a slow breath. “Remember that sample I sent you a while back? The one I told you to trace… and bury?”
A beat.
“Dig it back up.”
“And sound the fucking alarms.”
“I want everyone to see it—
the Council admin, the Elders… every last one of them.”