"He’s here." That one sentence from Christian sucked the air from the room, nearly sending some people into a spiral.

Though they had planned "sufficiently" for this moment, it didn’t mean the wolves weren’t nervous. Everyone knew how this meeting would end, and the possibility that some of them might not survive it.

"Let’s go welcome my brother, then," Elijah lifted the brown ceremonial wolf headdress shaped like a sleek, elongated crown and placed it over his head. Two curved, fang-like extensions framed his temples, giving him a predatory, untouchable presence. It wasn’t every day one got to see the Alpha King fully adorned in his Alpha glory, but today called for it.

Elijah Richmond was draped in a matching fur, the heavy pelt coat falling down his body in a display of dominance. He wore nothing beneath it, offering fleeting glimpses of a muscled chest carved from years of training. No doubt, good looks ran in the family—though werewolves were rarely anything less than striking.

Below, he paired it with black leather pants and boots. He walked with a silver-tipped cane shaped like a wolf, its eyes glowing red to denote his authority, yet it did not harm him.

It was a blessed relic from the goddess, meant only for the appointed Alpha king. Any other wolf who dared to wield it would have their skin burned. That didn’t mean Elijah was immune to silver, unfortunately. And soon, he would no longer be able to use the staff once he handed power over to Angus, his brother.

Beatrice should have been beside him, but Elijah wasn’t about to risk her life in a show that would end bloody. He had not just sent her out of Aster City, but far into the West Pack, where he knew she would be protected—just in case he didn’t survive and Angus took over.

Of course, she had protested, but Elijah was the king and had the final say. As much as their relationship was what it was now, deep down, he loved that woman. He was just too damaged to show it properly.

The elders were here, all four of them, since the fifth had died last year, and the grumpy old fools were too high-maintenance and political to choose a replacement from the four packs. Thankfully, their number wasn’t a set requirement, otherwise Angus would have smelled their bullshit from a mile away.

"With all due respect, Your Majesty," one of the elders began as they walked toward the entrance, "what if Angus doesn’t buy this? How are you going to ensure that we leave here alive?"

And this was one of the reasons Elijah had not told them about the plan until an hour ago, after their arrival. You would think that with some of them living up to two hundred years and watching most of their loved ones die around them, they would be more accepting of death, but the reverse was the case.

The elder who spoke was Felix, an ancestor several generations above him and the oldest of them all. He was also the one who had suggested Elijah be crowned the instant Angus was found crippled from the effects of the demon ritual. All that mattered to him was making sure the throne stayed within the family.

Had the wolves found out what Angus had done at the time—and that Elijah would be unable to bear an heir—they would have pushed for the crown to leave the Richmond family. He couldn’t let that happen.

The instant Elijah heard that, laughter rumbled from his chest. He looked at the elder with open mirth. "You see, that’s the thing, nobody knows." He added, "Perhaps at last you’d find your desired rest."

Elder Felix looked as though he had been personally betrayed, and the expression that followed was pure gold—so much so that Elijah couldn’t help the laughter that slipped past his lips as he walked by him.

"Selfish bastards," he muttered at last, every trace of humor gone from his face. Here he was, risking his life, and the old prick was worried about preserving his own, one that amounted to nothing.

Nonsense.

With a quiet huff, Elijah moved on, finally meeting Angus in the foyer. Both men halted, a small distance between them, assessing each other.

Angus took in everything Elijah wore with a possessive gleam in his eyes, as if he couldn’t wait to take his place as Alpha King already.

Even with the years between them, his brother Angus looked fit and strong, not an ounce of fat on those muscles. He was dressed in an all-black outfit, but Elijah wasn’t interested in that. Instead, he took in the size of the entourage Angus had brought.

There were only ten of them. 𝓯𝙧𝙚𝒆𝙬𝙚𝒃𝙣𝙤𝒗𝓮𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

Elijah’s brows furrowed slightly. Was Angus that confident of defeating him that he didn’t come with all his forces? Or was this an intentional move to have them underestimate him, only to strike when they least expected it?

He chose the latter.

Angus was his brother. He had made him who he was today. That meant he also knew how his mind worked, and one of Angus’s favorite moves was letting the enemy think they had the upper hand.

Elijah tried not to gulp. No matter what his brother had planned, they were ready. He hoped so.

Angus was the one who broke the silence.

"I didn’t think you’d give up the throne that easily, brother. Imagine my surprise when I received that letter. I almost thought it was a lie."

"It’s not a lie." Elijah sighed, playing up the exhaustion. "I realized it wasn’t worth risking the lives of my people over a war. Moreover, how many years do you even have left to rule? One? Two? Three? And then your heir, Violet Purple, takes over?" He said that on purpose. "Trust me, I had two days for the alphas to talk some sense into me."

That reminder didn’t sit well with Angus.

His mask slipped a little but he recovered quickly. He hadn’t been born yesterday. He had been playing this game for far too long.

"You’re right," Angus said smoothly. "I forgot you’ve always been a bit of a coward. First, you covet my throne. Then years later, you surrender it without a fight. No matter what I taught you, you just aren’t capable enough."

Elijah’s jaw ticked with anger. He remembered those lessons well. Every beating and mind games his brother had put him through, all under the guise of preparing him to be a worthy successor.

Still, Elijah controlled himself. He simply gestured.

"Shall we?"