Chapter 95 Chapter Ninety-Five

Chapter 95 Chapter Ninety-Five
Councilor Voss stepped into his private office and reached for the switch without looking.

Light spilled across the room—warm, controlled, illuminating polished wood, neatly arranged documents, and the quiet order he maintained within these walls. He closed the door behind him with a soft, deliberate click, shutting out the distant hum of the Council chambers after a long day of hearings—endless disputes and decisions that demanded precision more than patience.

He crossed the room, shrugging out of his outer robe as he moved toward a tall cabinet near the wall. With practiced ease, he hung it neatly inside, smoothing the fabric once before closing the door.

Only then did he turn back toward his desk.

He took a step forward—

—and something in the air shifted.

Subtle at first.

A distortion, like heat rising off stone.

The space around his desk shimmered, the illusion unraveling at the edges—threads of glamour peeling back, splitting, dissolving into nothing.

Voss stilled.

The last of it broke.

And there she was.

Kaelani sat in his chair, one leg crossed over the other, as if she had been there all along.

Watching him.

The councilor didn’t move at first.

Though the surprise was there—controlled, but not invisible. A slight tightening in his expression. The subtle bob of his throat as he swallowed it down. His hands twitched once at his sides before stilling again, fingers curling just enough to betray the instinct beneath the restraint.

His eyes flickered—just for a second—as his Lycan abilities went to work.

A silent call pushed outward through the mind-link to the guards stationed at every corner of the building.

Kaelani tilted her head slightly, watching him.

“That won’t work in here.”

She lifted her hand, pointing upward.

His gaze followed.

The air above them shimmered faintly, and as his focus adjusted, the structure revealed itself—sigils suspended in place like a constellation, etched in violet light. They pulsed softly, alive with energy, their forms intricate and deliberate, woven into a lattice that encircled the room.

Contained.

Sealed.

He felt it then.

The absence.

No mind link.

Nothing answered his wolf when it reached outward.

His attention returned to her, slower this time.

More measured.

Kaelani lowered her hand and gestured toward the chair opposite the desk.

“Please,” she said, her voice calm, unhurried. “Have a seat, Councilor Voss.”

He moved toward the desk, pulled the chair out, and sat. But his expression made it clear he was anything but willing.

Kaelani uncrossed her legs and shifted forward slightly, her attention already turning to the computer in front of her. Her fingers moved across the keyboard with quiet precision.

The screen flickered to life, its glow reflecting in her eyes.

“You’ve had Tessa Campbell followed every day since I’ve been gone,” she said, her tone calm, almost conversational.

A few more keystrokes.

“You’re going to call off your men.”

She didn’t look up.

“And no one is going to bother her again.”

Silence stretched for a beat.

Voss’s gaze sharpened, not on her—but on the screen.

“How did you access that system?” he asked, his voice controlled, but edged now. “That network is restricted. Encrypted. Shielded behind Council-level security protocols.”

Kaelani finally looked up at him, her expression calm—almost amused.

She lifted her hand slightly, giving a small, almost careless flick of her fingers.

Violet light shimmered at the tips.

“Magic,” she said, a faint hint of a smile touching her lips.

“A witch,” he said, the word edged with quiet disdain.

Kaelani hummed softly, rolling her shoulders back.

“Mm… that might’ve made things easier for me, wouldn’t it?”

She leaned back slightly in the chair, her gaze holding his.

“You wouldn’t have me flagged in your system as a high-level threat to both Lycan and human society.”

Kaelani shifted her full attention to him now, folding her hands together on the desk.

“Let’s be real with each other, Councilor,” she said, her voice steady.

“You know very well I’m not a witch.”

A slight tilt of her head.

“I think you—and the rest of the Council—are starting to believe Garrick was telling the truth about where I came from.”

She didn’t look away.

“There isn’t a creature in this realm that can vanish into thin air the way I did in front of your guards.”

A brief pause.

“Am I wrong?”

Councilor Voss didn’t answer.

He simply watched her for a moment longer before speaking.

“What is it that you want?”

Kaelani held the room for a moment.

“What I wanted the day I stood before you in the Chamber of Elders,” she said. “What I asked for then.”

“To live my life on my own terms.”

Her fingers remained loosely folded on the desk.

“In peace.”

Her attention stayed on him—unmoved.

“No trackers following me. No operatives stationed outside my home.”

His expression didn’t shift. “You’re a fugitive.”

“For what crime?” she shot back. “For existing? For being a hybrid?”

A flicker of something unreadable crossed his eyes.

“You pose a threat,” he said, his tone even. “You’ve just demonstrated as much.”

His gaze moved briefly to the computer, then back to her.

“You breached a secured Council facility. Entered my office without detection, and accessed a classified system without triggering a single safeguard.”

His eyes held hers now.

“What else are you capable of?”

Kaelani leaned forward slightly, her fingers moving across the keyboard again.

“Alright…” she said, almost under her breath. “Wasn’t planning to go there just yet—but since we’re here…”

She tapped a key.

The screen shifted.

Names filled the display.

Pack after pack.

“North Ridge,” she began. “Seventeen formal complaints filed in the last year, all submitted by lower-ranking Lycans.”

Another tap.

“Black Hollow—twenty-three.”

Another.

“Iron Vale—nine.”

Her eyes flicked briefly to him before returning to the screen.

“Pinecrest—twelve. Ashen Run—eighteen.”

She looked back at him.

“I can keep going.”

Her fingers stilled on the keyboard.

“Complaints of bullying. Hazing. Mental abuse. Physical abuse.”

“Sexual abuse.”

Her voice didn’t rise.

“Sexual exploitation. Forced breeding.”

She let the words land.

“Most of these are still marked as ‘pending investigation.’ Others have been closed without a single note of follow-up.”

She leaned back, her full attention settling on him.

“You sit in a very powerful position, Councilor Voss, and yet you’ve allowed this to go on under your authority without consequence.”

She didn’t blink.

“…and I’m the threat?”

Councilor Voss didn’t react immediately.

When he did, it wasn’t defensive.

It was practiced.

“Many of those complaints don’t hold up under scrutiny,” he said. “False claims. Misinterpretations. Lower-ranked females becoming… attached to their Alphas or heirs. When those feelings aren’t returned, they look for other ways to force attention. To damage reputations.”

Kaelani rolled her eyes.

“Oh, come on,” she said. “How often was that actually the case?”

Voss didn’t hesitate.

“More often than you’d think,” he replied. “You’d be surprised what some are willing to do to climb the social ladder.”

His tone remained steady. Controlled.

“We follow protocol. When a complaint is filed, we contact the Alpha of the pack. Conduct interviews. Give them the opportunity to resolve the matter internally before Council intervention.”

Kaelani shook her head slowly.

“You know what the irony of all this is?”

She turned the screen toward him.

“I was in your system for years.”

Her fingers tapped lightly against the desk.

“I filed five separate complaints… seven years ago.”

She angled the monitor just enough for him to see.

“And would you look at that…”

Her gaze lifted to meet his.

“All closed.”

A faint pause.

“By you.”

Councilor Voss stared at the screen.

For the first time since entering the room, he didn’t have a response.

When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter—less certain.

“Kaelani… of Silveredge,” he said, reading it off. “No surname. No official record tying you to that pack.”

His brow tightened slightly.

“I assumed it was another false claim.”

Kaelani let out a quiet breath through her nose.

“Yes,” she said. “And now you know why I didn’t have a surname… and why I wasn’t in your system.”

Her gaze sharpened.

“That should’ve been your first red flag.”

She looked at him like nothing he said mattered.

“Goddess knows how many others you’ve dismissed.”

She turned back to the computer.

“So here’s what’s going to happen.”

Her fingers moved across the keyboard.

“Tessa Campbell…”

A key pressed.

“Deleted. You’re going to call off your men. No one comes within a hundred feet of her.”

She didn’t look at him.

“Julian Hale… fugitive status removed.”

Another keystroke.

“Jace Romano… fugitive status removed.”

Her fingers paused for a fraction of a second before continuing.

“Garrick Blake… charges dropped.”

A quiet tap followed.

“Release scheduled for… tomorrow morning.”

Then—

“Kaelani Blake…”

Her eyes stilled on the screen.

The name sat there—fully formed, complete in a way it had never been before.

Blake.

Then her fingers moved again.

“All flags removed.”

A key pressed.

“Secondary origin: unknown…”

A click of the mouse.

“Deleted.”

Her eyes scanned the remaining entry.

A quiet exhale.

“There. That looks better.”

She leaned back slightly, her tone shifting—colder now.

“You’re also going to reopen and investigate every complaint submitted to the Council. Not just this year. Every single one.”

Her voice settled, low and absolute.

“And if any of these terms aren’t honored…”

A faint violet glow bled into her eyes.

“I won’t be this reasonable next time.”

They held each other’s gaze for a moment.

Calculated.

Unblinking.

As if he were testing her.

Or waiting for something to slip.

It didn’t.

“You’re playing with fire,” he said, his voice low. “Figuratively… and literally. You have no idea what you’re stepping into.”

His gaze hardened.

“One call to the High Councilor… and you’ll wish you’d stayed hidden.”

Kaelani leaned in slightly.

“Then call him. I’m sure he’d be very interested to hear about all the reports your Council chose to ignore.”

Voss went still.

The shift was subtle—disciplined—but she saw it.

Whoever the High Councilor was…

Even Voss didn’t want to answer to him.

Kaelani leaned back slightly, her expression settling into something almost satisfied.

“Well,” she said, “I’m glad we were able to come to an understanding.”

A moment passed.

“Oh—and one more thing.”

Her eyes flicked back to the screen.

“Christian and Elara Blake will be stripped of their ranks.”

Voss took a double take, his gaze narrowing.

“Christian is the Alpha of Silveredge,” he said. “On what authority do you think you can strip him of his rank?”

Kaelani didn’t look at him.

“When you reopen and investigate my reports,” she said, “you’ll see exactly why both of them should be.”

Her fingers moved again, pulling up another section of her file.

“Not to mention…”

Her eyes scanned the data.

“The date of known existence.”

A quick breath.

“I’m assuming that’s when I first arrived at Silveredge.”

Her focus shifted back to him.

“It’s dated three days before the twins were born.”

She leaned in just slightly.

“Tell me, Councilor Voss… what does that mean for me?”

He didn’t answer.

Didn’t move.

“Oh, go on,” she said quietly. “Say it.”

Voss’s jaw clenched.

“It means…” he said, the words reluctant. “It means that you…”

He hesitated.

“…are the rightful Alpha Heir.”

Kaelani smiled.

“Exactly.”

Kaelani rose from the chair.

“And there’s no need to send the twins any formal notice about their displacement,” she said.

A faint trace of something touched her expression.

“I’d prefer to deliver that news myself.”

Their eyes met for the last time.

“Good day, Councilor.”

And just like that—

She was gone.

A flash of violet light cut through the room, sharp and brief, before dissolving into nothing.

Leaving Voss alone in the silence she left behind.
—-

Julian’s private chambers were quiet.

Too quiet—the kind of silence that settled heavy in the air, broken only by the faint sound of uneven breathing.

His mother sat at the edge of the bed, a damp cloth in hand as she gently brushed it through his sweat-slicked hair, pushing it back from his forehead. Her movements were careful, repetitive—like stopping might mean something she wasn’t ready to face.

Across the room, Jace sat near the window, slouched in the chair, one elbow resting against the armrest as he fought to stay awake.

Julian stirred.

Barely—but it was enough.

His mother stilled instantly, her hand hovering mid-motion.

Then he shifted again, a little more this time. His head turned slightly from one side to the other, tension pulling faintly through his expression.

“Julian?” she said softly.

Jace straightened, the fatigue dropping from his posture as his attention snapped toward the bed.

Julian’s eyes opened slowly at first, then blinked—once, twice—as he struggled to focus, to make sense of what he was seeing.

The room.

The light.

The faces.

A breath caught in his chest.

“Kaelani…?”

His focus sharpened.

His room. His packhouse. Familiar walls and scent.

But something was wrong.

His gaze moved quickly—his mother at his side, Jace by the window.

No Kaelani.

Julian pushed himself upright, pain tearing through him as fresh wounds pulled and protested the movement.

“Easy—” his mother said, reaching for him, trying to guide him back down. “Julian, you need to take it slow. You had deep lacerations—everywhere. Some are still healing. You need to regain your strength, then you can shift—”

“What happened?” Julian cut her off, his voice rough. “One minute I was in the Fae realm—dying—and now I’m here?”

“It’s a wild story,” Jace said, pushing himself to his feet. “But you were healed.”

Julian had a lot of questions—but his priority was elsewhere.

“Where’s my mate?”

Jace met his gaze. “Your father ran her off.”

Something dark snapped in Julian’s expression.

“That son of a bitch.”

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood, ignoring the way his shirt darkened where wounds reopened, blood seeping through the fabric.

“Where is she?” he demanded. “Where did she go?”

Jace shook his head. “I don’t know. She just… vanished.”

Julian’s gaze locked onto him. “You think she went back to the Fae realm?”

“I don’t know.”

Julian turned toward his closet, grabbing the first clothes he could find.

“Well, I’m going to find out. Maybe she went home.”

“You can’t leave, Julian.”

His mother’s voice stopped him—briefly.

He didn’t turn. “The hell I can’t.”

“There are Council operatives outside your door,” Jace said. “Waiting to take us into custody.”

Julian stilled, then slowly turned back toward his mother.

“You called the Council?”

“Of course not,” she said quickly. “They’ve been watching the packhouse ever since you two were reported on the run.”

Julian’s jaw tightened. “Who the hell reported that?”

His mother hesitated, a small, reluctant wince crossing her face.

“Your father.”

Something in Julian’s expression went cold.

“I’ll kill him.”

A sudden burst of noise cut through the house.

Footsteps—fast, coordinated—rushing down the stairs. Voices. Doors opening.

Then—

Car doors slamming.

Engines turning over.

Julian and Jace moved at the same time, crossing to the window.

SUVs—several of them—pulled away from the pack grounds in quick succession, the last disappearing beyond the gates.

Julian and Jace exchanged a look—then moved.

Out of the room. Down the stairs. Straight for the front door.

Julian yanked it open just as the final vehicle cleared the drive, gravel crunching under the tires as it vanished.

He stepped onto the threshold, watching the empty road for a second longer.

“They said all charges against you have been dropped.”

Julian turned.

His father stood a few feet behind him, watching.

Julian didn’t respond. He turned and started back toward his room.

“Hey,” his father snapped, stepping into his path. “Don’t mistake this for forgiveness. You’re not off the hook with me.”

Julian kept walking.

A hand clamped down on his shoulder.

His wolf surged forward—sharp, immediate, flooding beneath his skin as he spun around.

“I’m not a child,” Julian said, his voice low but carrying something heavier now. “I am your Alpha.”

The words didn’t need to be raised.

They landed.

Hard.

“Stand down.”

The command rolled off him, thick with authority.

“Stay the hell out of my way.”

His gaze locked onto his father’s. “Do you understand?”

James swallowed hard.

Then—step by step—he backed down, the instinct to submit overtaking resistance.

“Julian—” his mother called after him.

Julian didn’t stop. He turned and took the stairs two at a time.

He reached his door, shoved it open—

—and stopped cold.

Breath caught.

Heart stuttering.

His wolf surged forward, slamming into his chest—

She was there.

By the window.

Sunlight poured in behind her, wrapping her in gold, turning her into something almost unreal.

For a second, everything else fell away.

Everything but her.

Kaelani met his eyes.

And smiled.

“Hi.”