Chapter 105 The Summons (pt2)
The private jet cut through the morning clouds as Sage stared at the official summons in her hands. The embossed seal of the International Pack Council seemed to mock her with its ancient authority. Beside her, Mason studied his own copy, his jaw tight with tension.
"They're demanding our presence at the Geneva Summit," he said quietly. "Both of us. Together."
"Leaving our children behind," Sage added, the words tasting bitter. The triplets were only two years old, and the thought of being an ocean away from them made her chest tighten with anxiety.
Marcus, seated across from them in the luxury cabin, pulled up intelligence reports on his tablet. "Our sources indicate this isn't just about the challenge from Thompson. The European packs have been building a case for months. They're claiming the Steele-Blackwood merger violates international pack treaties dating back three centuries."
"Treaties written when packs were isolated and territorial," Mason said dismissively. "The world has changed."
"But the old guard hasn't," Elena interjected from her seat. "Viktor Volkov has been rallying support among the traditional packs. They see our success as a threat to their entire power structure."
Sage stood, pacing the narrow aisle. "It's not just about us. It's about what we represent. Economic cooperation over territorial dominance. Shared leadership instead of single Alpha rule. And now..."
"Now they fear what our children might become," Mason finished. "Three children from merged Alpha bloodlines, developing at an unprecedented rate."
"There's something else," Marcus said carefully. "Our intelligence suggests they're particularly concerned about Rory."
Sage spun to face him. "Rory? Why?"
"She's sixteen, coming into her full abilities as she approaches adulthood. The daughter of an Alpha, raised in an unprecedented power structure, trained in both combat and corporate strategy." Marcus pulled up a classified document. "The Europeans are calling her 'The Bridge'—someone who could unite New World innovation with Old World tradition. They see her as either a future ally to cultivate or a threat to eliminate."
"Over my dead body," Sage said coldly.
"That might be exactly what they're planning," Elena said quietly. "This summons isn't just diplomatic. It's a trap. They get both Alphas away from the territory, away from the children, isolated in their stronghold."
Mason stood, moving to Sage's side. "We could refuse."
"And give them grounds to declare us in violation of international pack law?" Sage shook her head. "No, we go. But we go prepared."
The next three days were a whirlwind of preparation. Security for the children was tripled, with trusted pack members assigned to round-the-clock protection. Rory, despite her protests, was placed under constant guard.
"I can take care of myself," she argued, demonstrating with a fluid combat move that would have felled most grown wolves.
"We know you can," Sage said, pulling her into a hug. "But you're not just protecting yourself. You're protecting your siblings. They need you here, being strong for them while we're gone."
The hardest part was explaining to the triplets. Lily, always the most perceptive, seemed to understand something serious was happening.
"Mama scared," she announced during their last bedtime story, her blue eyes too knowing for a two-year-old.
"Mama's not scared," Sage lied smoothly. "Mama and Daddy just have to go to a big meeting. Like when we meet with the other packs, but farther away."
"Bad people there?" Ethan asked, his tactical mind already developing.
Mason lifted his son onto his lap. "Some people there don't agree with how we do things. We're going to talk to them, help them understand."
"If they mean, I fight them," Caleb declared, making tiny fists.
"No fighting," Sage said firmly, though she was touched by his protective instinct. "We use words first, always."
The morning of their departure, Sage found Rory in the security center, studying surveillance feeds with an intensity that reminded her painfully of Mason.
"I've coordinated with all sector leaders," Rory reported without preamble. "If anything happens—anything—we can lock down the entire compound in under thirty seconds. The children won't leave the secure wing, and I've personally vetted every single person who will have access to them."
"Rory," Sage said gently, "you're sixteen. You shouldn't have to—"
"I'm the Alpha's daughter," Rory interrupted, steel in her voice. "In the old system, I'd already be preparing to lead. In our new system, I'm exactly where I need to be—protecting our family while you protect our future."
Sage pulled her close, this remarkable young woman who'd become her daughter in every way that mattered. "I'm proud of you. So proud."
"Just come back," Rory whispered against her shoulder. "Both of you."
The flight to Geneva took twelve hours, during which Mason and Sage studied every piece of intelligence their network had gathered. The International Pack Council consisted of representatives from forty-three packs across Europe, Asia, and Africa. The North American packs had always maintained independence, but the Steele-Blackwood merger had forced international attention.
"Look at this," Mason said, showing her a document. "Thirteen packs have already voted to demand the dissolution of our merger. They're calling it an 'unnatural concentration of power.'"
"While they maintain centuries-old alliances and bloodline monopolies," Sage said bitterly.
"There's something else," Marcus said, joining them in the main cabin. "I've been analyzing the financial data. Several European packs have been shorting stocks in our companies. They're betting on our failure."
"Or planning to cause it," Mason said grimly.
As the Swiss Alps came into view, Sage felt the weight of what they were flying into. This wasn't just a diplomatic meeting—it was a trial. And the jury was already biased against them.
The motorcade that met them at the airport was impressive and intimidating in equal measure. Black SUVs with bulletproof glass, motorcycle escorts, and helicopters overhead. They were being treated like visiting heads of state—or prisoners being transported.
The Grand Hotel Kempinski, where the summit was being held, was a fortress of luxury. Every entrance was guarded, every floor monitored. As they entered the lobby, Sage noticed the subtle positioning of security forces—not just protecting, but containing.
Viktor Volkov waited in the marble foyer, his smile sharp as a blade. "Alpha Steele, Alpha Blackwood. Welcome to Geneva."
"Viktor," Mason acknowledged coolly. "I see you've been busy since leaving our territory."
"I've been doing what's necessary to preserve our way of life," Viktor replied smoothly. "Your experiment has caused quite a stir. Packs that have maintained tradition for centuries are suddenly questioning everything."
"Maybe it's time they did," Sage said.
Viktor's eyes glittered dangerously. "Change for the sake of change is chaos, Alpha Steele. And chaos has a way of consuming the young and vulnerable first."
The threat was subtle but clear.
Their suite was luxurious but Sage immediately noted the surveillance cameras, the reinforced windows that couldn't be opened, the single entrance that could easily be blocked.
"It's a golden cage," she said quietly.
"One we walked into willingly," Mason replied, already checking for listening devices.
Marcus's phone buzzed. His face paled as he read the message. "We have a problem. Fifteen minutes ago, three European packs filed formal charges against us with the Council. They're claiming we've been using our children as 'genetic experiments' to create super-wolves."
"What?" Sage snarled.
"They've submitted documentation—medical records, developmental assessments, all stolen or fabricated—suggesting the triplets aren't naturally conceived but the result of genetic manipulation."
"That's insane," Mason said.
"It doesn't matter if it's true," Elena said grimly. "It just has to create doubt. And in the court of pack opinion, doubt is enough."
A knock at the door interrupted them. A young woman in an elegant suit entered, her bearing distinctly military despite her civilian clothes.
"The Council requests your presence for the opening ceremony," she announced. "Attendance is mandatory."
As they prepared to leave, Sage's phone buzzed with a text from Rory: "Strange vehicles spotted near compound. Maintaining distance but watching. Stay safe."
Sage showed it to Mason, whose expression darkened further.
The ceremony hall was a study in ancient power meeting modern wealth. Representatives from every major pack in the Eastern Hemisphere were present, their faces a mixture of curiosity, hostility, and calculation. Sage and Mason were seated at a table isolated from the others—a clear message about their status.
"Distinguished members of the International Pack Council," Viktor began from the podium, his voice carrying easily through the hall. "We gather here to address a crisis that threatens the very foundation of our society. The unauthorized merger of two major North American packs, the concentration of unprecedented power in two individuals, and most concerning—the production of offspring that may represent a threat to the natural order."
Gasps rippled through the room. Several representatives turned to stare at Sage and Mason with open hostility.
"We demand answers," Viktor continued. "We demand transparency. And we demand assurance that the American experiment does not threaten the stability we've maintained for centuries."
As he spoke, Sage noticed movement in her peripheral vision. Security forces were subtly repositioning, creating a barrier between them and the exits.
Mason must have noticed too because his hand found hers under the table, squeezing once in warning.
They were trapped, on trial, and thousand miles from their children.
And somewhere in the elegant crowd, Sage could feel predatory eyes watching, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
The opening ceremony was just beginning, but Sage already knew—they weren't meant to leave Geneva alive.