Chapter 23 Council meeting
Tristan’s POV
I stepped into the council hall, and these werewolves—probably my late father’s age, three of them—had their eyes on me as though I was a moving object they couldn't bear to miss. And that wasn't strange to me. I’d always been, but their gaze couldn't restrict me.
“It’s too important,” Aiden had pointed out. Why call a meeting?
“Aiden,” Micah called. “Please leave us.”
Aiden looked at me, then nodded, turning his back against them.
When he took a step, I held him back. “What for?”
Micah, Finnian, and Jude frowned at me.
I decided the meeting was far more important than I thought. The frown on their faces told me so. I realized there wasn't a need to argue since Aiden wasn't part of the council—he was just a pack healer. It was only the three of them.
I nodded at Aiden.
He left and shut the door behind him.
And silence stepped in.
It was just us in this large room used as a council hall. My eyes went over the arrangements as though it was my first time coming here. It had been months since I stepped foot in this hall. Months—and these council members hadn’t bothered to call a meeting. I also hadn't called for one. There could have been a need, but I didn’t.
As I stared at the large table and the chair meant for me, I got flashes of my father, Cupid, seated and addressing these same men.
“Your health,” Finnian said, his eyes scrutinizing my skin. “Any good about it?”
That shouldn't be a question, I supposed. He was there when I refused to carry out the process of using Celine's blood. And I'd also seen the disappointment in his face—why ask?
“Crazy curse,” Jude said. “And it always shows itself to remind you of everything. Sad for a young werewolf like you.”
I just nodded, stepping forward to take my seat.
These men, though my father's age, still had young skin to look just like mine. Their look and complexion couldn't tell their age, but their aura did.
“What happened to the girl?” Micah asked.
“What girl?” I feigned ignorance.
“The human, of course.”
Somehow, I realized I hadn't thought about their reaction to her being my mate. They all heard me say it, but none of them had expressed an opinion except Aiden. Should I repeat those words to them?
I thought I should—and that no one should question me. I was the head of the pack as Alpha, but these men still had some sort of power that kept me in check, at least to an extent.
“She’s my mate,” I said, feeling a rush of relief.
They let silence stretch for a few seconds while I felt their eyes on my skin.
“What about the curse?” Jude broke the silence. “Your fate. You already thought of that?”
“And also the fate of the pack?” Finnian added.
“I… I have days… I have some days.” I tried to start an explanation but stopped.
I had no idea. I hadn’t thought of that—not even once. And the pack was also concerned. Every one of its members was connected to it.
“You already know what's at stake, don’t you?” Micah asked.
“I have some days, and we might have to look for a way to—”
“A way? How's that?”
“A way for the cure other than taking essence from a human.”
“That’s your plan?”
“It should be.”
If I wasn't in this position—if I wasn’t meant to decide anything. It wasn’t that I had complete control over making decisions. Everything was tied together—my fate and the pack’s.
But wait… this meeting wasn’t just about the time I had left, was it?
“You called for the meeting… what for?”
They stared at each other, then raised their eyebrows at me until it turned piercing, almost accusatory. Their look wasn’t approving. Not at all.
“It isn’t just to talk about my fate of becoming feral, is it?”
They still didn’t answer. Jude was snapping his fingers, and it was then I noticed Finnian holding a brown envelope.
“Someone should tell me.” My voice raised slightly, but I was careful not to go overboard—though my fingers were already clenched.
“You didn’t know?” Micah asked.
“No, I don’t!” I got off my seat. “Someone should spill it.”
Finnian opened the envelope and brought out a letter. I wanted to grab it from him. No—I shouldn’t rush to see its content, though a little fear about what it might be stirred up in me.
My body became warm, doing nothing but looking at them, at the letter Finnian held.
“This letter,” he started, his eyes still studying me.
What if it was that dream trying to take a space in reality? It shouldn’t be.
“Your sins are meeting up with us,” Micah said.
“My sins…”
Then the content of the letter must have been worse than anything I’d ever imagined. If my sins were to be counted, they’d outweigh all the sins the entire pack had ever committed—combined.
“The other packs are coming,” Jude said.
Finnian passed the letter to me, and written on it was a long list of names—names of those I’d thought hid the man I assumed had killed my parents. Lemuel, Ryan, Dorcas, and so many others. I’d barely known their names before spilling their blood.
But now, as though the letter was a mirror, I saw their faces fresh before my eyes.
“They are coming for war,” I muttered, struggling to keep my fingers firm on the letter.
The dreadful dream came haunting me again—blood on the roads of the pack, fire on houses, screams, growls. Those things. It was never just about me. It was not just about my fate, but also the pack. The Blightmoon Pack. The Blightmoon Pack.
I felt my skin almost giving way for the cursed fur to pop out, but it didn’t. Still, I felt pain. I still had some time—but how long?
“Now you know,” Micah said, sighing. “It’s all your fault.”
“I know.”
“Your time is short.” Finnian stood up. “Months, perhaps a year or years?”
“No. My time is too short.”
They got to the door, taking one last look at me before turning the knob.
I had my body glued to the chair, almost sinking into it. I imagined what it would be like if the other packs took over. I imagined their revenge—how they’d want me to pay. Probably just slit my throat. Or worse—take someone who gave me a sense of being alive, someone who seemed to separate me from my cold self—Celine.
I sprang up from my chair. “Aiden!”