The door to the Alpha’s office groaned open as Uther stepped inside without knocking, a gesture that was as intentional as the smug smile on his lips.
Behind him trailed a few n—older wolves, once loyal to Xaden’s late father, now pulled into Uther’s orbit with whispered promises and the convenient lie of succession.
He had been waiting for this for a very long ti.
Ti was running out.
Xaden was gone, Jasmine was gone, and that stupid Erik he never liked was gone too.
It was the perfect ti for him to take over.
Anna was still around but she was a woman and simply a puppet in the grand sche of things.
The mbers of the pack were beginning to get worried.
Whispers around on what was the future of the pack now that their leader was gone.
He had gotten support from her and rallied from the n he had already spun words of doubt and confusion in their heads.
He was here to take over and there was no one that was going to stop him
They finally stepped into Xaden’s office.
Damian looked up from the desk, calm but cold, like ice settling over fire. He didn’t stand. Not yet.
"Uther," he said evenly. "I didn’t summon you."
"No, you didn’t," Uther replied, sweeping the room with his eyes like it already belonged to him. "And yet, here I am. Funny how that works when there’s no Alpha in his seat."
"I’m holding that seat for him," Damian replied. "Until he returns."
Uther’s grin twisted. "Returns? Damian... he’s been gone for weeks. No signs. No word. Just blood in the dirt and ghosts on the wind. You and I both know what that ans. Given you should respect more. I am Xaden’s uncle."
"I’ll respect who deserves respect." Damian said tartly.
Uther decided that once hebhsf beca Alpha, he was going to teach this little rat a lesson.
Uther smiled tightly. "Xaden isn’t here. Missing."
"I know exactly what it ans," Damian said, rising now, shoulders squared. "It ans we don’t give up on our Alpha. We don’t start tearing down the pack from inside while the scars are still fresh."
Uther’s voice dropped into a calculated hush. "What’s dangerous is pretending that hope will feed and protect this pack. We’re vulnerable, and the others will sll it soon. They’ll circle. You know that. The longer we hesitate, the worse it gets."
He stepped closer, ignoring the n flanking the walls like statues. "And like it or not, I’m the last living male of Alpha Darius’s bloodline. Xaden was my nephew. If he’s gone, I am the rightful heir."
"You’re not his heir," Damian snapped.
"Anna is his sister and she is right behind ." He said. "She approved my succession. I am of this bloodline."
"You were never part of the succession line. The only reason you weren’t exiled with the rest of the traitors during the rebellion is because Xaden showed you rcy."
Uther’s smile fell for a second, replaced by a flash of sothing darker. "You dare speak to about traitors? When you, an outsider, were handed rank because not even Xaden, but his stupid gamma Erik, trusted you? Tell , what would he say now if he saw what you’ve done to his pack?"
"I’ve kept it from falling apart."
"No," Uther hissed, stepping into his face. "You’ve kept it clinging to a ghost."
A silence settled like frost. The other n in the room exchanged uncertain glances. Tension wound around them, coiling tighter and tighter.
"I will not let you steal this pack," Damian said, voice low, deadly. "You’re here because you think I’ll bow to your na. But you forget sothing."
"What’s that?" Uther sneered.
"I don’t answer to you. I answer to the Alpha."
Uther’s jaw twitched. "There is no Alpha."
For a heartbeat, they stood face to face—two dominant wolves on the brink of violence.
Uther’s eyes shimred gold at the edges, his power rising just beneath the surface. Damian didn’t flinch. His own aura, quieter but more lethal, answered in kind.
Then Uther reached for the desk.
"I’ll make this easy," he said. "Step down. Hand the seat to . And I’ll allow you to keep your rank. You’ll still be part of the council. A respected one. You just won’t be sitting in a chair too big for you."
Damian raised his chin, watching the hand that dared rest on the desk Xaden once ruled from.
"Touch that seat again," Damian said slowly, "and I will rip your arm from its socket."
The threat hung in the air, heavy and sharp.
Uther’s lips curled, power crackling around him. "You think you can stop ?"
"I won’t need to," Damian said, his voice calm, as if he already knew the fight was over.
And just as Uther’s hand twitched with the first spark of aggression—
Bang!
The door burst open.
A scout, panting and red-faced, stumbled into the room.
"Sir! Beta Damian!"
Damian and Uther both turned, stiff and poised, like arrows pulled back but not loosed.
"What is it?" Damian demanded, not turning his back on Uther.
His eyes were still hot on Uther.
The scout’s eyes were wide. His voice cracked with disbelief.
"It’s Xaden. He’s returned. He’s... he’s at the infirmary."
The silence that followed was electric.
Uther blinked, his expression frozen. "What?"
"He...he’s alive, sir. Barely, but he made it back to the gates. Ronan and the others brought him in."
The room erupted into stunned gasps, one of Uther’s n actually taking a step back.
Damian’s lips lifted—not into a smile of amusent, but sothing sharper, prouder. He looked Uther dead in the eyes.
"Well," he said quietly, "it seems the Alpha isn’t dead after all."
Uther’s mouth opened, but no words ca out. His eyes searched Damian’s face for confirmation, for weakness, for doubt. But there was none.
"I suggest you remove your hand from his desk," Damian added coolly. "And leave before he wakes up and finds a snake sitting in his chair."
The scout stepped aside as Damian brushed past him, calm but pulsing with barely concealed fury.
His strides were long, unhurried—but his whole body burned with purpose.
Behind him, Uther stood silent, fists clenched at his sides.
And the office, that sacred space of command, was left behind, still and full of sha.
Outside, the corridor buzzed with the news.
Xaden was alive.
The pack’s Alpha had returned.
And though broken and bloodied, his presence had shattered the first true threat from within the walls, before it could even begin.
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