Chapter 73 The Root (Part 1)
Chapter 73 The Root (Part 1)
Third-Person Point of View
Flashback 3 Years Ago
“King, we cannot afford to delay action any longer. The neighboring packs no longer fear your rule or respect our borders,” Beta Lief said, his voice tight with frustration as he laid out stacks of papers and scrolls across the broad wooden table. “They had been stealing our crops, raiding our storehouses and the very fields we planted with our own hands, without restraint, without shame, and without any regard for the blood and labor that went into growing them! These are not small losses. They are taking enough to feed their own for months, leaving our own people to go short!”
He tapped the topmost sheet with a sharp finger, showing records of thefts, witness statements, and maps marking exactly where and when the incursions had happened. “This is not desperation, King. This is arrogance. They believe you have grown soft, that you will not strike back, and so they take what they want as if it already belongs to them!”
King Mavros listened in silence, his expression unreadable as he scanned the documents one by one. When he had finished, he closed the white leather folder slowly before lifting it and dropping it directly into the waste bin beside his desk.
Beta Lief’s eyes went wide with shock. "King, what are you doing? That is proof! That is reason enough to march to their borders and demandrecompense or to take what is ours by force!”
“Let them take what they need, Beta,” King Mavros said calmly, leaning back in his chair and resting his elbows on the armrests. “It is winter now, and this one will be far longer and crueler than any we have known in years. Every pack, every family, every child is struggling to find enough to eat to see the dawn. If they come to us hungry, I will not turn them away empty‑handed. Think of it not as theft, but as aid given to those who have nowhere else to turn.”
He reached for another stack of reports, his tone softening only slightly as he added, “We prepared for this. We knew the frost would hold longer this time, so we built those greenhouses across every corner of our territory—great glass structures that keep the cold out and life in. The whole pack worked together to raise the frames, lay the soil, and tend the seeds. We have enough. More than enough to see our own people through, and enough to share with those who have less.”
Lief opened his mouth to protest, then closed it again, his brow furrowed. He understood the logic, he supposed—yet every instinct he had screamed that kindness would be mistaken for weakness.
Once, King Mavros would have felt the same. Once, such an insult to his territory would have been answered with swift, brutal punishment. He would have sent warriors to seize the stolen goods, to punish those responsible, to make sure no one dared cross Obsidian Fang ever again. But that part of him, that ruler who led only through fear and iron, had long since been set aside.
Even after everything that had happened, even after the lies, the silence, and Coriander’s betrayal, he had never broken the promise he had made to her. He would lead with honor, not through terror. He would build a world where strength was used to protect, not to crush. This was his path, his choice—separate from whatever bond or pain remained between them.
Beta Lief left the king's office without another word. King Mavros took a long breath and let it go, choosing not to press the matter further. Perhaps Beta Lief was simply too accustomed to the old ways of ruling—too slow to accept the new path Mavros had chosen. Mavros understood that well enough. Lief had stood by his side from the very first day he took the throne. In truth, they were more than comrades—they were childhood friends.
But as the days went by, Mavros noticed a troubling shift in how Lief treated him. He began missing council meetings more and more often. Worse, disturbing reports kept reaching Mavros’s ears. That Lief was punishing the pack’s workers harshly for even the smallest mistakes, pushing them far beyond what was reasonable. It was a world away from the Beta Lief he had always known—quiet, easygoing, and never one to care overmuch for strict rules or petty displays of authority.
When the rumors grew too frequent and too serious to ignore, Mavros finally decided to summon him to the library, where they could speak privately.
Now he stood with his back to the door, swirling rich amber liquor in a crystal glass, watching thick snowflakes drift down to settle on the already deep drifts covering the grounds. He heard the heavy door creak open, but he did not turn around immediately.
“You are thirty minutes late,” Mavros said firmly, his tone serious. “What took you so long?”
“I was overseeing the workers clearing snow from the main gates of the fortress, King,” Lief replied flatly. There was no warmth, no deference, not even the usual respect in his voice.
Mavros arched an eyebrow and slowly turned to face him. “At this hour?” he asked.
It was already past ten in the evening. The workers should have been resting hours ago, so they would have the strength to return to their tasks tomorrow.
“Yes, King. The drifts are piling up too hig—”
“What has happened to you, Beta Lief?” Mavros cut him off, unable to hold back the question any longer. He set the glass down firmly on the table, the sharp sound echoing through the quiet room.
Beta Lief met his gaze with a cold. “I am simply doing what you no longer have the stomach to do, King. I am your second in command. This is what that position means.”
King Mavros’s jaw tightened. “Are you saying you are abusing the authority I entrusted to you?”
“Not at all,” Beta Lief replied smoothly. “I am carrying on what you began. I cannot bear to see all we have built, all the blood we spilled, wasted just because you have grown too soft.” His tone sharpened, turning bitter as he pressed on. “Everything changed the moment you met Miss Coriander. The wind shifted, and you along with it. You became lenient. You became weak. You have forgotten how to lead in a way that commands true respect—from our own pack and from every pack that borders our lands. Now you just stand by and let others drag Obsidian Fang through the mud. Silverpine Pack even dares to mock your rule openly, and you do nothing!”
Their meeting ended in utter disarray. Beta Lief had turned away before Mavros could finish speaking, refusing to listen to another word. Though every instinct urged King Mavros to assert his authority, to remind Lief exactly who stood highest in their ranks, Mavros reined in his temper. He forced himself to understand where his oldest friend was coming from—even if he could not agree with it.
He closed his eyes. Yet as he thought over Lief’s harsh words and stubborn stance, doubt began to creep in.
Was he truly making the right choice? Had he strayed too far from the path they had once walked together?
A sharp knock at the door pulled him back.
“Come in,” he said quietly, his tone serious.
The door swung open to reveal Gamma Fengk and Delta Gun standing side by side.
“Good evening, King,” they greeted in unison.
Mavros took another slow sip of his drink. “What is it?”
The two exchanged a long, uneasy look, as if each waited for the other to speak first. After a moment, Delta Gun cleared his throat and stepped forward.
“King… we have something urgent to tell you,” he said, and Mavros’s brow furrowed instantly at the weight in his voice.
“Spill it,” Mavros commanded firmly.
Delta Gun glanced back at Gamma Fengk, who gave a single nod.
“Earlier this evening,” Delta Gun began, his voice low and careful, “we received word from the border patrol. They spotted Beta Lief meeting with a hooded figure deep in the pine woods—far beyond the usual patrol routes, in a place no one should be after dark.”
King Mavros’s grip on his glass tightened. “A hooded figure?”
Gamma Fengk nodded grimly, stepping forward to add the rest. “The scouts couldn’t get close enough to hear every word, but they are sure that this is serious, King.”
Silence fell over the room, thick and suffocating. Mavros stared past them as the pieces finally clicked into place. Lief had already chosen his side.
“They didn’t just talk,” Delta Gun continued heavily. “Beta Lief handed her or him something; we aren’t just sure what is it.”
Mavros set his glass down so gently it barely made a sound, yet his whole body had gone still as stone.
“So that is it,” he whispered, more to himself than to them. “He is not just disagreeing with me. He is handing our home over to the enemy.”
Mavros took a deep breath, pushing past the sharp sting of betrayal to focus only on what must be done. There was no time for grief now—only duty.
“Secure the gates immediately,” he commanded, his voice calm but absolute. “Change every passcode, reassign all patrols, and post our most trusted warriors there. No one enters or leaves without my personal sign, not even Beta Lief.”
“At once, King,” Gamma Fengk replied, bowing and turning to go.
“Wait,” King Mavros added, stopping him. “Do not arrest him. Not yet. Watch him closely, follow every move he makes, and report everything back to me. I want to know exactly how far this rot has spread before I cut it out completely.”
Delta Gun nodded. “We will not miss a single step.”
As the two left to carry out his orders, Mavros looked once more at the snow piling high outside the window. He had hoped to give Lief every chance to turn back, but now he realized his old friend had already walked too far down the dark path to ever return.