Chapter 135 Rogues Are Part Of The Pack
The morning started quietly.
For once.
No rushing footsteps. No Mara knocking before sunrise. No elders watching from the edges of the room like silent judges.
Just the soft clink of cutlery, the low hum of the pack house waking up, and the faint smell of coffee drifting through the dining room.
I sat across from Darius, one leg tucked under me on the chair, absently pushing a piece of toast across my plate. The sunlight coming through the tall windows painted everything gold, softening the edges of the world for a few brief moments.
For a moment, it almost felt normal.
“Eat,” Darius said without looking up from the file in his hand.
“I am eating.”
“You’re moving food around.”
“That counts.”
He lowered the file slowly and gave me a look.
“That does not count.”
I huffed, but took a bite anyway.
“Happy?”
“Marginally.”
I rolled my eyes.
“You’re insufferable in the morning.”
“You’re worse when you haven’t eaten.”
“That’s debatable.”
A small silence settled between us again, but it wasn’t heavy. It was… easy. Comfortable. The kind of quiet that didn’t demand to be filled.
I glanced at him over the rim of my glass.
“You didn’t tell me the rehearsal would be that… intense.”
His lips curved faintly.
“You handled it.”
“I didn’t trip.”
“That’s not the standard.”
“It should be.”
He leaned back slightly in his chair, studying me. I took another bite of toast, chewing slowly. “And the elders didn’t look like they were about to exile me.”
“They weren’t.”
“That’s also progress.”
His gaze softened just slightly.
“You’re doing well.”
The words settled in my chest more than I expected. Before I could respond, The doors slammed open.Hard.
Four elders entered the dining room in a tight formation, their expressions set in rigid lines. Their presence filled the space instantly, cutting through the warmth of the morning like a blade.
The quiet shattered. Darius didn’t stand. Didn’t react. But something shifted in him.Subtle. Controlled. Dangerous.
“What is it?” he asked calmly.
The eldest stepped forward.
“We need to speak. Now.”
I leaned back slightly in my chair, crossing my arms. “Good morning to you too.”
No one responded.Of course not.
“This concerns the Moon Path,” the elder continued, his voice clipped.
My stomach tightened.
Here it was.
“We’ve reconsidered your decision.”
“To include rogues,” he finished.
Darius didn’t move.
“And?” he asked.
“It will not happen.”
Silence fell. Heavy and Immediate.
I felt the shift in the room before Darius spoke. The air thickened. The temperature seemed to drop.
“No,” Darius said.Not loud. Not aggressive.Just… final.
The elder’s jaw tightened.
“This is not a matter of preference.”
“You’re right,” Darius replied. “It isn’t.”
The tension sharpened.
“It is a matter of tradition,” another elder cut in.
“And stability.”
“And safety.”
I watched them closely. The same arguments.
Different words.
“Rogues are unpredictable,” the first elder continued. “They do not adhere to pack law. Allowing them to stand within ceremonial boundaries is….”
“…a recognition of reality,” Darius interrupted smoothly.
The elder faltered for half a second.
“Reality?”
“Yes.”
Darius finally set his file down. “They exist within our territory,They linger at the edges,They survive outside of structure,And yet they are still wolves.”
The room went still.I didn’t move.Didn’t speak.This wasn’t my fight anymore.Not right now.
“We are not debating their existence,” the elder snapped.
“We are debating their inclusion.”
“Then the debate is already settled,” Darius replied.The words landed like a stone.The elder stepped forward.
“You would override council tradition for this?”
“For her.”
The simplicity of it hit harder than anything else. My breath caught slightly.
“You risk destabilizing the ceremony itself.”
“No.”
“You risk sending the wrong message to the pack.”
“The message is exactly the point.”
“And what message is that?” the elder demanded.
Darius leaned back slightly in his chair, gaze steady. “That this pack does not pretend parts of itself don’t exist.”
Silence. The elders exchanged looks.
“You are allowing personal bias to influence ritual structure,” another elder said carefully.
“No,” Darius replied. “I am allowing the Luna to fulfill her role.”
The word Luna hung in the air.
“She has not yet proven…”
“She doesn’t need to prove anything to you.”
The interruption was sharp, controlled and absolute.The elder’s mouth snapped shut.Darius’s voice didn’t rise. But it didn’t need to.
“I have made my decision,” he continued calmly.
“And the Luna has made hers.”
He glanced at me then. Not to check. Not to confirm. Just to include.
“She stands with me in this.” The elder’s gaze shifted to me. I held it, neither did I flinch nor look away.
“Then you leave us no choice,” the elder said slowly. Darius’s eyes flashed faintly gold. “There is no choice to leave.”
A beat of silence.
Then,The shift, it wasn’t loud,nor was it obvious.But it was undeniable.
The Alpha king’s authority,The room seemed to press inward. The elders felt it. I saw it in the way their posture adjusted.
“I am not asking for approval,” Darius said quietly. “I am informing you of the outcome.” The words carried weigh and finality.
The elders held their ground for a moment longer.Then,They stepped back in acknowledgment .
“This sets a precedent,” one of them said.
“Yes,” Darius replied.
“It will not be easily undone.”
“That is the point.”
Another pause.Then the eldest nodded once.“Very well.” The tension eased just slightly.
“The Silverbound celebration will proceed as you have declared.” They turned to leave. One of them hesitated at the doorway, glancing back.
“Be certain,” he said quietly, “that you are prepared for what this change reveals.” Then they were gone. The doors closed behind them.The room fell silent again. The morning light felt different now.
I exhaled slowly.
“Well,” I muttered. “That went well.”
Darius’s lips twitched faintly. “They didn’t try to remove you from the ceremony.”
“Small victories.”
I uncrossed my arms and leaned forward slightly, resting my elbows on the table.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“Yes, I did.”
“You could have let them argue it out.”
“No.”
“You could have stayed neutral.”
“No.”
I studied him carefully.
“Why?”
He didn’t answer right away.
Instead—
He reached out.
His fingers brushed lightly against my wrist.
Not grabbing.
Not holding.
Just… touching.
Grounding.
The contact was brief.
But deliberate.
I felt it immediately.
The steadiness.
The quiet assurance.
The unspoken: I’m here.
I didn’t pull away.
Didn’t even consider it.
“They needed to see it,” he said finally.
“See what?”
“That I stand with you no matter what.”
The words settled deep.