The Great Hall of the Shadowkeep was designed for one purpose: absolute psychological domination.
The room was vast, supported by towering pillars of unpolished black stone. There were no windows, only roaring fireplaces burning with a strange, unnatural blue flame that cast long, distorted shadows across the floor.
At the far end of the hall, elevated on a dais of jagged volcanic rock, sat the Throne of Ash.
And on it sat Kaelen.
The Lycan King wasn't wearing ceremonial armor or a crown. He wore simple black slacks and a dark shirt, unbuttoned at the top to reveal the scarred, monstrous musculature of his chest. He was slouched casually on the massive stone seat, one leg draped over the armrest, a goblet of dark wine in his hand.
He looked bored. Utterly, lethally bored.
Yet, as Xander and his entourage approached the base of the dais, the sheer, crushing weight of Kaelen's aura hit them like a physical avalanche. Three of Xander's elite warriors immediately dropped to their knees, their bodies trembling violently, unable to withstand the atmospheric pressure of the King's presence.
Xander gritted his teeth, his knees buckling slightly, but he forced himself to remain standing. He was an Alpha. He would not bow.
"Alpha Xander," Kaelen rumbled. His voice was a dark, tectonic vibration that rattled the marrow in Xander's bones. The King took a slow sip from his goblet, his glowing crimson eyes fixing on the young Alpha. "You are tracking mud on my floors. Speak quickly, before I decide to use your pelts as rugs to replace the ones you've ruined."
Chloe gasped softly, shrinking behind Xander's broad back.
"King Kaelen," Xander began, his voice tight. "Four nights ago, during our Full Moon Ceremony, a banished Omega named Elena Moon fled into the Neutral Zone. Our trackers found evidence that a Lycan from your territory slaughtered my guards and took her. This is a direct violation of the Silver Accords."
"The Silver Accords," Kaelen mused, swirling the wine in his goblet. He tilted his head, feigning curiosity. "Tell me, boy. The girl was banished. Rejected by you, if the whispers carried on the wind are true. Why do you suddenly care about a piece of trash you threw out into the rain?"
Xander's jaw clenched. "She is a criminal. She assaulted my guards before fleeing. As her former Alpha, it is my right and my duty under the law to execute her myself. Hand her over, King Kaelen. We don't want a war with the Northern Reaches."
The temperature in the Great Hall plummeted. The blue flames in the hearths suddenly flared, roaring violently.
Kaelen stopped swirling his wine. He slowly lowered his leg from the armrest and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. The boredom vanished from his crimson eyes, replaced by a dark, psychotic storm that made Xander's heart stutter.
"A war?" Kaelen whispered softly, the sound carrying a promise of utter annihilation. "You bring twenty shivering pups to my hall and threaten me with war over a broken Omega?"
Kaelen set the goblet down. The clink of the metal against the stone echoed like a gunshot.
"You don't want the girl because of the law, Xander," Kaelen growled, a sadistic smirk curling his lips. "You want her because you realized you made a mistake. Because the little defect you threw away in the dirt suddenly looks like a mystery you can't solve."
"She is Blackclaw property!" Xander shouted, losing his composure, his Alpha pride blinding his survival instincts. "Give her to me, or I will bring the High Council to your gates!"
"You can't have her, Xander."
The voice didn't belong to Kaelen. It came from the shadows behind the throne, crisp, calm, and ringing with a terrifying, icy authority.
Everyone in the hall froze. Xander's amber eyes widened in shock as a figure stepped out from the darkness and walked to the edge of the dais, standing right beside the Lycan King.