Theron's POV
"This place reeks of fear," Dante muttered as our convoy crossed into Silverpine territory.
He was right. I'd ruled Shadowcrest for fourteen years, visited dozens of packs, and I always recognized the scent of a territory rotting from within. Silverpine smelled like wolves living under a tyrant's paw—anxious, beaten down, desperate.
Perfect.
"Stay alert," I told my Beta. "Helena Crane didn't invite us here out of goodness. She wants something."
"Besides legitimizing her puppet son's stolen throne?" Aria, my sister, leaned forward from her seat. Her hand rested on the knife at her belt. "I still say we should've rejected this treaty. Silverpine's council hired the rogues who murdered Father and Kieran."
"Which is exactly why we're here." I met her fierce gaze. "Keep your enemies close, little sister. Especially when they're about to hand you everything you need to destroy them."
The pack house came into view—a sprawling stone structure that had seen better days. Wolves lined the entrance, but their posture screamed submission, not respect. A pack that feared their Alpha rather than followed him.
Weak leadership. Just as I'd suspected.
"There." Dante pointed to the front steps where two figures waited. "That must be Helena and Marcus."
I studied them as our vehicle stopped. Helena Crane-Ashford stood tall in an expensive dress, her smile perfectly practiced. A woman who'd clawed her way to power and would kill to keep it. I'd dealt with her type before—ambitious, ruthless, and overconfident.
Beside her stood Marcus Crane, barely twenty-four and trying desperately to look like an Alpha. His shoulders were too stiff, his jaw clenched too tight. Everything about him screamed imposter.
Good. Nervous wolves made mistakes.
"Remember," I said quietly to Dante and Aria as we exited the vehicle, "we're here for treaty negotiations. Nothing more. No matter what we discover."
"Even if we find proof Helena murdered Alpha Richard?" Aria asked.
"Especially then. We gather evidence first. Strike later." I straightened my jacket. "Now smile. We're honored guests."
Dante snorted. "You don't smile, Theron."
"Exactly."
We approached the steps. Helena extended her hand with that politician's smile. "Alpha King Theron. Welcome to Silverpine. We're honored by your presence."
Honored. Right. She was terrified I'd expose her secrets. I could smell it under her expensive perfume—the sharp tang of fear mixed with determination.
"Luna Helena. Alpha Marcus." I ignored her hand, keeping my voice cold. "Let's skip the pleasantries. Where's the treaty room? I have other territories to visit this month."
Helena's smile tightened. Marcus looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole.
So easy to rattle.
"Of course," Marcus said, recovering quickly. "But first, we've prepared a formal dinner in your honor. A chance to discuss matters in a more... relaxed setting."
I didn't want relaxed. I wanted to see how they operated under pressure. But dinner meant observing their pack dynamics, watching who spoke to whom, identifying the weak points in Helena's control.
"Fine."
As we moved toward the entrance, something hit me like a physical force. A scent—faint, buried under wolfsbane and fear, but unmistakable.
Alpha power. True Alpha power.
I stopped walking, every instinct screaming that something was very wrong here. There shouldn't be another Alpha in this territory. Marcus was a fraud, elevated by his mother's schemes. So where was that power coming from?
"Your Majesty?" Helena's voice held a note of concern. "Is something wrong?"
"Just admiring your pack house," I lied smoothly, scanning the wolves lined along the entrance hall.
Servants, guards, lower-ranking wolves—all bowing their heads in submission. Nothing unusual. Except...
There. In the line of servants against the wall. A young woman with her head bowed, hands clasped in front of her. Brown hair, simple dress, nothing remarkable. But that scent—buried and suppressed but definitely there—came from her direction.
Interesting.
"Shall we?" Marcus gestured toward the dining hall, oblivious.
I filed the information away and followed. The dining hall was set for a formal dinner—too much silver, too many flowers, trying too hard to impress. Helena seated herself at the head of the table with Marcus on her right, leaving me the place of honor on her left.
A power play. She wanted to appear equal to me.
I sat without comment, watching as servants filed in with wine and appetizers. Dante took his position behind me, Aria beside him. Both were tense, ready for trouble.
Smart. I didn't trust Helena not to try something stupid like poison.
The servants moved efficiently, pouring wine and setting plates. I paid them little attention until that scent hit me again—stronger now, closer.
I looked up and locked eyes with the servant carrying wine.
Everything stopped.
It was her—the woman from the entrance hall. But now, up close, I could see what I'd missed before. The way she moved with unconscious grace, like someone trained for combat, not servitude. The way she held herself, spine straight despite her bowed head. The intelligence in her eyes before she quickly looked away.
And those eyes. Even with brown contact lenses, I recognized the shape, the defiance flickering behind false submission.
This wasn't a servant.
This was a wolf pretending to be prey.
The mate bond slammed into me like a war hammer to the chest.
Mine, my wolf snarled. Ours. Mate.
I went absolutely still, processing the impossible. My fated mate was here, in Silverpine, disguised as a servant. A mate whose alpha power was being suppressed by wolfsbane but still strong enough for me to sense.
Which meant...
Keira Ashford. The rightful Alpha of Silverpine who'd disappeared three years ago. Everyone assumed she'd fled the territory or died. But she'd done something far smarter—she'd hidden in plain sight, gathering evidence while her enemies thought her gone.
Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.
And dangerous. If I could sense her power, others would eventually too. She was running out of time.
The woman—Keira—kept her head bowed as she moved to fill Marcus's wine glass. Her hands were steady, but I caught the slight tremor when she passed close to me. She felt the mate bond too. She had to.
Marcus dismissed her with a wave. "Make sure you don't embarrass me in front of King Theron."
He grabbed her chin roughly, forcing her to look at him. Rage flooded through me—hot and vicious. How dare he touch my mate like that? How dare he treat the true Alpha of this pack like dirt?
I kept my expression bored, but my fingers tightened on my wine glass hard enough to crack it.
Keira whispered something submissive. Marcus released her and turned back to the table, completely unaware he'd just manhandled the most powerful female Alpha in the region.
Idiot.
Helena started talking about trade routes and border disputes. I made appropriate responses while my mind raced through possibilities.
Keira Ashford was alive. She was my fated mate. She'd been gathering evidence against Helena and Marcus for three years. And tonight, by pure chance—or fate—I'd discovered her.
The question was: what was I going to do about it?
I could expose her right now, watch Helena and Marcus panic, maybe even trigger a challenge that would tear this pack apart. But that would put Keira in immediate danger.
Or I could wait, watch, and figure out exactly what game she was playing before making my move.
"Your Majesty?" Helena's voice cut through my thoughts. "You seem distracted."
"Just thinking about the treaty terms," I said smoothly. "I have some... concerns about Silverpine's stability."
Marcus stiffened. "Our pack is perfectly stable."
"Is it?" I let the question hang. "Because from what I've observed, your wolves fear you more than respect you. That's not stability. That's a powder keg waiting to explode."
The table went silent. Helena's smile turned brittle. "Perhaps we should discuss this privately, after dinner."
"Perhaps." I took a sip of wine, my eyes finding the servant girl—Keira—standing against the wall. "But first, I'd like my wine glass refilled. By that one specifically."
I pointed directly at her.
Keira's head snapped up, eyes widening slightly before she caught herself. Marcus looked confused but gestured for her to approach.
"Of course, Your Majesty."
She walked toward me with careful steps, wine pitcher in hand. Up close, the mate bond was overwhelming—every instinct screaming at me to claim her, protect her, take her away from this place where she had to hide her true nature.
But I was Theron Nightfang, Alpha King of Shadowcrest. I didn't act on instinct. I acted on strategy.
Keira reached for my glass. As she poured, I spoke quietly—too low for anyone else to hear over Helena's attempt to restart conversation.
"You're playing a dangerous game, little Alpha."
Her hand jerked. A single drop of wine splashed on the white tablecloth.
"I don't know what you mean, Your Majesty," she whispered.
"Yes, you do." I met her eyes—amber, I realized, beneath those brown lenses. The eyes of a True Alpha. "The question is whether you're brave enough to see it through, or if you'll keep hiding like a coward while your enemies sit on your throne."
She set the pitcher down with more force than necessary. "I am no coward."
"Prove it." I leaned closer. "Meet me in the garden after dinner. Alone. Unless you're afraid of what the big bad wolf might do."
"I'm not afraid of you."
"Good." I smiled—a real smile, sharp and dangerous. "You should be afraid of what I'm going to offer you instead."
Keira stepped back, her mask of submission slipping back into place. But I saw the calculation in her eyes, the wheels turning.
She'd come. My mate was far too curious—and too desperate—to pass up this opportunity.
As she retreated to her place against the wall, I caught Dante's questioning look. I shook my head slightly. Later.
Helena raised her wine glass. "A toast. To new alliances and prosperous futures."
"To the future," I agreed, my eyes still on Keira. "And to wolves finally claiming what's rightfully theirs."
Only Keira understood the real meaning behind my words.
And from the way her hands clenched at her sides, she was already planning her next move.
Good.
This treaty negotiation had just become far more interesting than I'd anticipated.