Knotting His Rejected Breeder

There were only seven Alphas left in the hall. Twelve of the original twenty packs had already packed their wagons and cleared out after Bloodmoon walked off the grounds after failing to impress Princess Aurora.

The remaining seven sat shoulder to shoulder, trying to look larger than they were, cutting their meat with a little too much force and throwing glances toward the high dais.

Chief among them was Seth Fenris. He sat two chairs down from Vance, his broad shoulders filling out a thick wool tunic lined with white fox fur. Seth was Sonia’s older brother, the head of the Silverpaw pack—a man with steady grey eyes and a jawline so square it looked carved from timber. On paper, he was the obvious choice. He had five hundred rifles, three rich valleys of timber, and a direct bloodline to the old northern lines.

He was also boring.

Aurora tracked the movement of his thumb as he turned his silver goblet around and around on the scarred wood. He had spent the last two hours agreeing with everything her father said, nodding at every mention of border security, pack taxes, and winter grain stores.

Vance slammed his goblet down hard enough to splash dark wine across the linen cloth. "Gentlemen, you’ll have to wait seven days to let my daughter make up her mind. I will not have my hall turned into a tavern for another month while you lot flex your jawbones."

Seth set his cup down carefully. "Seven days is fair, King Vance. But Silverpaw is ready now. My granaries are full, and my men aren’t scattered across the lowlands like Bloodmoon’s."

Aurora let out a small, quiet breath through her nose, not bothering to look up from her cold broth.

Vance turned his head, his sharp eyes cutting straight to his daughter. The noise in the hall drifted lower as the other Alphas noticed the shift in his attention.

"You’ve barely touched your plate, Aurora," Vance said. The irritation in his voice was thick, worn raw by three days of endless political haggling. "And you haven’t spoken two words to Seth since we sat down."

"I have nothing to say to him, Father," Aurora said simply. Her tone was clear, flat, and completely devoid of interest. "Or to any of them."

Seth’s jaw tightened, though he kept his hands flat on the table, refusing to lose his temper in front of the room. "Aurora—"

"I told you my answer on the field three days ago," Aurora interrupted, finally lifting her eyes to meet her father’s glare. "I want Dane."

A low hush fell over the long table. One of the lesser Alphas from the low-river territory set his fork down with an uncomfortable clatter.

Vance’s face darkened, the deep scars on his cheek flushing red. "Dane Grey is gone. His father dragged him off this mountain in disgrace after he ruined the ceremony and failed the stone. You will not sit in my hall and pine after a boy who couldn’t even draw light from the Heartstone."

"He didn’t run," Aurora said quietly. "He left because you gave him nothing to stay for."

"Enough!" Vance barked, striking the table with his open palm. "You are the daughter of Silvercrest! You do not get to throw away the survival of nineteen packs because a boy from the mud made you look twice in a ring!"

"She gets to choose whoever she pleases, Vance," a smooth, steady voice cut in.

Runa, Vance’s wife, sat at the head of the high table, her posture straight, her grey-ing hair pinned back with silver combs. She hadn’t touched her food either, but unlike her husband, her face was completely calm. She set her linen napkin down next to her plate and looked around the table, taking in the defensive, stiff postures of the seven remaining Alphas.

"Runa, stay out of this," Vance warned, turning to his wife. "The boy disrespected our house. He spat on the tradition, his pack walked out, and now the whole ridge is talking about how Bloodmoon’s heir is broken. The stone didn’t bless him. He’s not even a true Alpha."

"And yet he’s the only one my daughter looks at," Runa said mildly. She leaned forward, resting her forearms on the wood, her cold blue eyes locking onto Vance.

"Why should I care if his blood is weak, or if his stone didn’t glow? Look around this table, husband."

Runa gestured vaguely toward Seth and the six other men sitting in awkward silence.

"These men came here begging for our grain, our walls, and our name," Runa continued, her voice even and cutting. "We don’t need their timber, and we certainly don’t need their permission. Silvercrest holds the high pass. If Aurora wants the weakest Alpha on the mountain, then we will go down into the mud and bring him here. We do not adapt to them, Vance. They came here because they needed us."

Seth Fenris cleared his throat, his face darkening slightly under his grey beard. "Runa... with respect, Silverpaw is not begging. We offer a real alliance. Bloodmoon is a dying pack with a boy who can’t even shift properly."

Runa turned her head slowly to look at Sonia’s brother. Her expression didn’t change at all. "Then you have seven days to convince her otherwise, Seth. But if she says no on the seventh morning, you will pack your white furs and clear your men off my road."

Vance glared at his wife, his chest heaving, but he didn’t counter her. He knew better than to argue policy with Runa when the other packs were listening. He grabbed his pitcher, poured himself another full cup of dark wine, and swallowed half of it in one long gulp.

Aurora pushed her chair back from the table. The heavy wood scraped loudly against the stone floor, drawing every eye in the room back to her.

"Where are you going?" Vance growled into his cup.

"To my room," Aurora said. "The air in here smells like old sweat."

She didn’t wait for his permission. She turned her back on her father, on her mother, and on the seven men watching her leave, her long skirts sweeping quietly across the flagstones as she exited the hall.

The side corridor was dimly lit by a single iron lantern mounted on the dry-stone wall. It was cold down here, away from the hearths, the draft blowing straight through the arrow slits from the outer yard.

Aurora walked slowly, her steps unhurried, enjoying the quiet.

A shadow stepped out from the recessed doorway near the stairwell.

Aurora stopped, her hand dropping casually to the small silver dagger tucked into her side belt. "You shouldn’t be back here, Seth."

Seth Fenris stepped fully into the lantern light. He had left his heavy fur cloak in the hall, wearing only his tunic and leather breeches. He looked larger up close, his broad frame blocking most of the narrow hallway.

"Your father’s guard let me through," Seth said softly, his voice much quieter now that they were away from the other Alphas.

"Aurora, wait a second. Please."

Aurora didn’t draw her knife, but she didn’t step closer either. She crossed her arms over her chest, leaning her shoulder lightly against the cold stone wall. "If you’re going to tell me about your granaries again, I’m going to sleep."

Seth let out a short, tired breath. He reached out, his thick, rough hand hovering near her elbow for a second before he let it drop, sensing her coldness.

"I’m not talking about granaries," Seth said, his grey eyes looking down at her with genuine frustration. "Look at me, Aurora. I’m not some boy playing games in a ring. I’m the most dangerous in my pack. I know how to protect a pack, and I know how to take care of a wife. You know my family. Sonia is my sister—"

"I know," Aurora said flatly. "And she’s a miserable woman who treats everyone around her like dirt."

Seth winced slightly, but he didn’t defend his sister. "Sonia is hard because Bloodmoon is a hard place to live. Ramon is weak, and Dane... Dane is a kid, Aurora. He’s reckless. He came into our house, caused a scene, and now he’s out in the wild with that farm bitch. He can’t give you a life. He can’t even keep his own borders safe."

"He looked my father in the eye and refused to bow," Aurora said, her voice dropping into a quiet, steady tone. "None of you did that. You all sat at that table and nodded every time my father breathed."

"That’s called survival," Seth said, stepping a half-inch closer, his tone turning desperate. "That’s how you keep people alive! Come with me to Silverpaw, Aurora. You don’t have to marry me tomorrow. Just name the terms. Come to the valley, see the land, and give me a real chance before you throw your life away on a boy who isn’t even here."

Aurora watched him for a long moment. She looked at the line of his jaw, the grey hairs starting to show at his temples, and the genuine, heavy earnestness in his face. He wasn’t a bad man. He was just predictable.

"I’ll think about it, Seth," she said softly.

Seth’s shoulders dropped slightly, a sudden, quiet hope flickering across his features. "You will?"

"I said I’ll think about it," Aurora repeated, her voice giving nothing away. She stepped around him, her shoulder brushing his tunic as she moved past him toward the stairs. "You have seven days. Just like the rest of them."

She walked up the winding stone staircase without looking back, leaving him alone in the drafty hall.

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