The scent of ancient parchment and stale authority hung heavy in the Shadowclaw Council Chamber. Ronan faced the five remaining Elders—the powerful, traditionalist wolves who had engineered his marriage and subsequent divorce—and his humiliation from the gala felt cold and distant. Their anger was white-hot.
"Your kneeling display was treasonous, Alpha Kaelen," Elder Valerius thundered, his face a roadmap of disgust. "You yielded our authority to an Omega, a disgraced female! Alpha Malek's attack was a direct response to your public weakness. You have destabilized the Pack beyond recovery."
Ronan remained standing, perfectly still. He was no longer trying to defend himself. He was executing a strategy Lyra herself would admire: preemptive, ruthless, and self-sacrificing.
"My actions secured the Heart of Shadowclaw and neutralized the siphon threat," Ronan countered evenly. "Your failure to detect Malek's decades-long plot is the true negligence."
"Silence!" Elder Valerius slammed his fist on the heavy oak table. "The Council has passed judgment. By consensus, we are activating Protocol Omega. All Shadowclaw assets are seized, your Alpha status is temporarily revoked, and Lyra Thorne is officially deemed an external threat. The child, Leo, will be taken into Pack custody immediately to purify his bloodline."
Ronan had expected the move, but the threat against Leo ignited the Crimson Mist Lyra had given him. His eyes flared gold, and the Elder Chamber felt a sudden, crushing spike of raw Alpha dominance—not the one fueled by ego, but the one fueled by protection.
"You will not touch my son," Ronan growled, his voice vibrating with lethal promise.
"You have no authority left, Ronan," the Elder sneered, reaching for the legal papers. "Our lawyers have already initiated the corporate takeover of Shadowclaw Acquisitions. By dawn, the Kaelen line will be stripped bare."
Ronan smiled, a thin, chilling expression that hadn't been seen since his ruthless days as a young CEO. "You are too late."
He pulled out his own electronic tablet, already signed and notarized by Damon. He didn't look at the Elders; he looked at the open line to Lyra's secure terminal.
"Lyra," he stated into the device, cutting through the Elders' sudden confusion. "The Elders have attempted to seize Shadowclaw Acquisitions using the legal loopholes you identified in 2024. I have preempted their move."
Ronan displayed the document on the tablet screen for the Elders to see: Transfer of Controlling Interest.
"Effective immediately," Ronan announced, his voice a hammer blow, "Lyra Thorne, CEO of Aura Dynamics, is settling my Pack's outstanding debt for security, crisis management, and relic retrieval. The payment is the transfer of a 51% controlling interest in Shadowclaw Acquisitions."
The Elders gasped, realizing the catastrophic political and financial maneuver. Ronan hadn't just lost his company; he had given it to the woman they had designated as a threat.
"You fool! You gave her the heart of the Pack!" Valerius shrieked, scrambling for his phone.
"No," Ronan said, standing tall, the sacrifice immense but necessary. "I gave her the shield. Pack Law can strip me of my title, but it cannot touch a multi-billion dollar human corporation that is now majority-owned by an external human entity. Lyra Thorne and Leo Thorne are now legally protected by the most formidable financial barrier in the world—a barrier I just bought with the Kaelen legacy."
He finished the communication with Lyra. "The debt is paid, Lyra. You control the company and the Pack's funds. You are untouchable. Consider this the first installment of my grovel."
Ronan returned to Lyra's compound, not as an Alpha, but as an exhausted exile. He found her in the office, still working, but no longer in tactical gear—she was wearing a luxurious silk robe, the image of untouchable wealth.
She didn't offer comfort. She simply held up a printed sheet of paper—the final documentation of the transfer.
"A ruthless maneuver, Ronan," Lyra admitted, her golden eyes appraising him. "You signed away your entire corporate life to make me untouchable. The Elders are in full panic."
"It was the only way to protect Leo from their purification demands," Ronan admitted, collapsing onto the sofa. "I gave up my power for my son's safety."
"You only paid what was owed," Lyra stated, setting the paper down. "You used my security, my intellect, and my son's bloodline to save your Pack. Transferring your financial empire merely settles the bill for the first two items. It does not atone for the third."
She walked over to him, her scent—the overwhelming metallic scent of power—making his wolf humble itself. She stood over him, just as she had stood over him in the tunnels.
"The greatest threat to Leo is no longer the Elders, but the fact that the Ancient Bloodline makes him a target for every pack in the hemisphere," Lyra said, her voice dropping. "You bought us temporary safety, Ronan. Now, you will spend the rest of your life as my security chief—the guardian of the Matriarch and the Heir. You will use your Alpha strength to protect my assets and my son, and you will earn every single moment you spend near him."
Ronan looked up, exhausted and broken, but saw a faint, almost imperceptible flicker of respect in her eyes. It wasn't love, but it was a start. He nodded, accepting his new, lower position.
"As you command, CEO Thorne. I will be his shield."
He knew, then, that the groveling had truly begun. He had lost his throne, but he had secured his purpose.