Fractures in the Past
The tension between Draven and Malrik reached a boiling point during a private meeting of alphas the following day. The packhouse war room brimmed with barely contained hostility as Elyra and Garren, both influential figures among the alphas, watched the brothers carefully.
Malrik sat near the edge of the table, his posture poised yet unassuming, like a snake coiled in wait. “Crimson Fang’s… recent misfortunes,” he began, his tone silky and measured, “are concerning, wouldn’t you agree? A poisoning attempt. Shadow wolves at the borders. Fractured alliances. It’s enough to make one wonder if the Alpha’s focus is… divided.”
Draven’s growl rumbled low in his chest. “If you have something to say, Malrik, say it outright.”
Malrik smiled faintly, his gray eyes glinting. “Only that power should be wielded with care. Some might say it’s being wasted.”
Elyra’s silver eyes flicked between the two, her expression unreadable. Garren leaned back in his chair, a smirk tugging at his lips as though savoring the discord.
“Crimson Fang doesn’t waste its strength,” Draven growled, his claws flexing against the table. “And we don’t waste time on meaningless provocations.”
Malrik spread his hands in a gesture of mock surrender. “Provocations? I’d never dream of it.”
The meeting adjourned in strained silence, the alphas departing with knowing glances exchanged behind Draven’s back. Isla found him later in their quarters, pacing by the fire like a caged animal.
“He’s trying to undermine you,” she said, her voice calm but edged with anger.
Draven stopped, his broad shoulders tense as he turned to face her. “He’s always done this,” he said, his voice rough with suppressed fury. “Malrik has hated me since the day I was named heir.”
“Why?” Isla pressed, stepping closer.
Draven’s amber eyes softened as he looked at her, his expression a mix of weariness and anger. “Because he was left with nothing but scraps. Our father saw him as too weak to lead—too cunning to be trusted. And now he’s come to take what he thinks he’s owed.”
Isla rested a hand on his arm, her silver eyes steady. “Then don’t let him. Show him why you’re the Alpha.”
Draven exhaled, his jaw tightening as he pulled her into his arms. “I will,” he murmured against her hair. “But I won’t let him near you again.”
