The pack council chamber smelled like old leather and older grudges. Twelve of their most senior wolves sat around the oak table that had hosted Montague leadership for over a century. Ronan took his usual seat at his father's right hand, the heir's position that felt more like a target on his back than an honor.
Beta Sarah—his aunt, his guardian angel, the only person who still remembered he used to laugh—gave him a small smile from across the table. She'd been trying to fill the maternal void his mother left behind, but some holes were too deep to patch.
"The southern border situation has escalated," announced Beta Tom, their head of security. He spread a territorial map across the table, red pins marking recent incursions. "Capulet scouts have been spotted three times this month. They're testing our response times."
Ronan's wolf stirred restlessly beneath his skin. At eighteen, he was still learning to control the Alpha instincts that demanded he defend their territory with fang and claw. But something about this felt wrong.
"How do we know they're scouts and not just young wolves exploring?" he asked.
The room went silent. Twelve pairs of eyes turned to him with expressions ranging from surprise to disappointment.
"Excuse me?" Marcus's voice could have frozen hell.
"I'm just saying, we've been patrolling their borders too. Maybe it's not aggression. Maybe it's just—"
"Just what?" Elder Patricia leaned forward, her weathered face twisted with disgust. "Coincidence? Ronan, your mother died because we thought Capulet movements were 'just exploration.'"
The words hit like a physical blow. Ronan's hands clenched into fists under the table, claws threatening to extend. The familiar guilt crashed over him—the weight of not being strong enough, fast enough, Alpha enough to save her.
"That's different," he managed.
"Is it?" Marcus's golden eyes, so much like his son's, held no warmth. "Tell me, son, what would you do about these incursions?"
It was a test. Everything with his father was a test lately.
"I'd try talking to them first. Set up a neutral meeting. Address the tension before it escalates into—"
"Into what we should have done six years ago." Elder Marcus—his uncle, not his father—slammed his palm on the table. "End this threat permanently."
Ronan's blood ran cold. "What are you talking about?"
Beta Tom cleared his throat and pulled out a second map, this one marked with detailed patrol routes and timing charts. "We've identified three young Capulets who've been leading the border crossings. We have their schedules, their patrol routes, their habits."
The room suddenly felt airless. Ronan's wolf whimpered, sensing the predatory intent radiating from the council members.
"If we eliminate them during their next incursion," Tom continued clinically, "it sends a clear message about the consequences of testing Montague resolve."
"Eliminate them?" Ronan's voice came out strangled.
Elder Patricia smiled, and it was the most terrifying expression he'd ever seen on a grandmother's face. "Quick. Clean. Justified under territorial defense laws."
"You're talking about murder."
"We're talking about justice," Marcus said quietly. Dangerously. "We're talking about ensuring no Montague mother ever has to die the way yours did."
Ronan stared at the map, at the careful notations marking where three young lives would end. His hands shook as he thought about teenagers like himself, probably worried about school and dating and pack politics, not knowing they'd been marked for death.
"Those are kids. Teenagers like me."
"Teenagers who will grow up to be the Alphas that order our deaths." Elder Patricia's voice carried the weight of decades of hatred. "Better to end the threat now."
Ronan looked around the table, searching for someone else who saw the insanity in this plan. Sarah's face was pale, her hands folded so tightly her knuckles had gone white. She caught his eye and gave the smallest shake of her head.
Don't. Not here. Not like this.
But he was alone in his horror, surrounded by wolves who had forgotten the difference between protection and predation.