Chapter 38

Kael

The castle is too quiet.

Not the quiet of peace, but of things long silenced. The kind of quiet that follows war. That follows betrayal. That follows decades of lies.

My footsteps echo through the stone corridors as I move alone. The light from the high windows is pale and distant, filtering in through stained glass that once glowed with meaning. Now, the colours feel faded, like memories I can’t quite touch. My father built this place as a monument to power. Every carving, every hall, every throne was designed to remind others who ruled. And now?

It feels hollow.

Like him.

I pass the war gallery, its walls lined with weapons and banners from battles past. I stop in front of one, the standard of the Nightshade line, ripped and scorched. I remember asking my father why we kept the flag of the ones we destroyed. "To remind them," he said. "And to remind ourselves that power is never given. It is taken."

I see it now for what it was. Not a lesson. A warning.

A way to keep everyone in line out of fear. A warning not to question or step out of line.

Dax finds me in the council chamber an hour later. I’ve already pulled reports, scrolls, letters, and complaint logs. Trade manifests. Things I should have reviewed long ago. Things my council should have brought to my attention.

"You look like you haven’t slept in days," he says.

"I haven’t."

He doesn’t argue. Just pulls up a chair and starts reading.

We work in silence at first, sorting through stacks of documentation. He has been at my side, and I don't need to direct him or tell him where my mind is. He knows. Then we start to speak. We start to address what we have discovered.

"These border towns," I say, tapping a report. "They haven’t received supply shipments in two moons. The roads are protected, so it’s not bandits."

"It’s the council," Dax mutters. "Redirecting resources. Favouring inner-circle allies."

"And this?" I hold up another scroll. "Complaints about new taxes levied on rogue families trying to resettle."

"Council again. Your father’s policies haven’t been questioned. Until now."

I press my hands to the table, grounding myself. "Then we question them. We change them."

Dax looks at me.

"Are you sure? You’re about to walk into a summit where half the alphas think you’re compromised."

"Then I’ll prove I’m not. Not by choosing a Luna I don’t want. But by leading. By setting things right."

We start making lists. Not for battle. For reform.

We need to fortify our border support and ensure even our smallest towns have our protection.

Rogue integration must be reviewed, and any unfair taxes must be repaid.

Trade equity needs to be addressed.

A full council audit needs to be completed.

Resource redistribution based on population and needs.

Protection of minor territories.

Restoration of fallen pack alliances.

It isn’t just paperwork. Every page we flip over is a symptom of a kingdom slowly bleeding out beneath the facade of control. It’s worse than I thought. Money funnelled to council allies. Villages are starving while nobles expand their estates. Guard rotations have been removed from critical areas. Missing women and children.

Dax’s eyes darken as we go deeper.

“We’ll need allies,” he says. "You can’t do this alone. If we move on this now, they’ll fight us in the courts and the field."

“Then we find the alphas who believe in something better,” I say. “We set meetings at the summit. We show them what the kingdom could be if we stop feeding the greed of the few."

He nods. “And the others?”

“We watch them. Discreetly.”

Dax leans forward. “I’ll assemble a team. Trusted, quiet. They’ll start investigating council corruption. But we wait until the end of the summit to announce anything. Once we know who stands with us.”

I lean back, staring at the table covered in maps and reports. “And if we don’t find any? What if it is too late?”

“We will,” he says. “Because this time, we’re not just trying to hold power. We’re trying to deserve it.”

I take a deep breath and ask the question I am not sure I want to know the answer to, "Where do you think she will stand?"

Dax sighed and looked me in the eye. "I think she will stand with the people, whatever benefits them. But is that what you really want to know?"

I stare at him; he knows me too well. So he continues, "Kael, I don't know what to expect from her. I hear whispers, but we won't know anything about her until she shows up."

I look around the chamber, with its high ceilings and gilded edges. All the symbols of legacy and dominance. But now, they feel like masks.

“What we build next,” I say, “has to be real. No more shadow deals. No more silencing dissent. If we survive this summit, if we come back with support... we remake the court.”

Dax eyes me for a long beat, then nods. “We do it right. For the people. For the wolves who’ve waited too long to be seen.”

I glance at the throne at the end of the chamber. Polished obsidian. Carved with wolves. I used to sit there and feel powerful.

Now?

It feels like a seat of ghosts. Of lies.

I won’t rule like him. Not anymore. I can't go back now that I know the truth.

If I still wear a crown when the summit ends, it won’t be because I crushed my enemies or played politics. It will be because I chose to become something better, because I decided to change. And if I am lucky, I won't be standing alone.

“Let's keep working on these ideas and make up proposals,” I tell Dax, rising to my feet. “ We need to have this ready for when the summit begins. I want every Alpha and every Council member, not under investigation, to have a copy of our proposal when we meet.. Before I speak, they’ll know what we stand for.”

Dax nods. “What you stand for.”

I shake my head.

“No, Dax, what we stand for. ”

This room, which feels so empty and meaningless, may need to be torn down so that we can rebuild. The Thorne Throne cannot be silent any longer.

It will speak with the voices of those we’ve failed.

And I will be the king who finally listens.