Thirty minutes later, the air outside the communal hall was thick with tension.
The communal hall was the largest wooden structure in the territory, built from heavy pine logs with massive double doors that usually stayed open during festivals.
Today, however, the doors were shut tight, and a heavy, anxious murmur echoed from within the building.
Hundreds of wolves had packed into the room, their murmurs sounding like a swarm of angry hornets.
Kristen walked in a protective diamond formation—Dalton took the front, acting as a shield, while Malachi and Theo flanked his sides, and Scarlet walked closely behind.
As they pushed open the heavy wooden doors and stepped into the hall, the loud chatter instantly died down to a suffocating silence.
Hundreds of pairs of eyes turned toward Kristen.
Some looked at him with profound pity; others looked at him with confusion, and a few of the older warriors looked angry, their pride wounded by the idea of bowing to a vampire coven.
At the far end of the hall, standing on the raised wooden stage, were his parents.
His mother, Rachel, looked regal and imposing in her formal leather jacket, her face a mask of absolute authority.
Beside her stood Richard, his neck covered by a high collar to hide the dark bruising, his pale skin looking a bit more drawn than usual but his posture straight.
Kristen walked down the center aisle, the weight of a thousand judgments pressing down on his shoulders.
He felt exposed, naked despite his clothes, acutely aware of his freakish golden eyes that seemed to glow faintly under the dim chandelier lights of the hall.
He took his place at the base of the stage, flanked by his best friends and his sister.
His mother stepped forward, clearing her throat.
The sound echoed off the high rafters, instantly commanding absolute silence.
“Pack members of the Ironbound lineage,” Rachel began, her powerful voice cutting through the heavy atmosphere like a blade.
“We have called this emergency assembly to address the deep shifts in our territory.
As many of you have noticed, our city supply routes have been compromised.
The human hunters are encroaching, and our resources are thin.
To ensure the absolute survival of our children, our refugees, and our future, the Alpha lineage has brokered an unbreakable political alliance.”
A ripple of uneasy whispers broke out through the crowd.
“We have finalized a treaty,” Rachel continued, her voice hardening to prevent any interruptions.
“A holy union of blood and territory.
My son, Kristen, the future Alpha of this pack, will be wedded to the Vance Clan.” Find the original chapter at g.com.
The hall erupted.
“A vampire?!” a senior warrior shouted from the middle row, stepping out into the aisle, his face twisted in disgust.
“We are wolves of the Moon Goddess!
We do not sell our future leaders to bloodsucking corpses!
This is an insult to our pride!”
“Silence!” Rachel roared, her Alpha command echoing with a force that physically forced the speaking warrior back into his seat, his head bowing involuntarily under her dominance.
“This is not a matter of pride!
This is a matter of survival!
The vampires have evolved, they walk in the daylight, and an all-out war would mean the total annihilation of every soul in this room!”
Dalton stepped slightly closer to Kristen, his shoulder brushing against his friend’s as his green eyes scanned the angry crowd, keeping a tight lid on any potential rebels.
Kristen kept his eyes glued to the floorboards, his fists clenched so tightly his claws began to pierce his palms.
The humiliation was eating him alive.
He could hear the quiet whines of the Omegas in the back, the fearful whispers of the mothers holding their pups close.
They were terrified.
They looked at him as a sacrifice, a lamb being sent to the slaughterhouse to buy them a few more years of peace.
‘Stand tall, Kristen,’ his inner wolf growled, its voice suddenly losing all its playful sarcasm, replacing it with a deep, ancient resonance that made Kristen’s spine straighten.
‘You are an Alpha.
Do not let them see you bow your head.
If we must walk into the dark, we walk into it like a king, not a coward.’
Taking a deep, shaky breath, Kristen lifted his chin.
He forced his shoulders back, letting his brilliant golden eyes sweep across the crowded hall, meeting the stares of his pack members with an unbreakable, defiant glare.
“The terms of the contract are absolute,” his mother continued, her voice softening slightly as she looked down at her son with a painful twinge of regret.
“The wedding will take place—”
Suddenly, the heavy double doors at the back of the communal hall didn’t just open—they violently shattered inward.
The massive pine doors flew off their iron hinges, splintering into thousands of jagged wooden shards that rained down across the back rows of the assembly.
Several pack members screamed, scrambling away in pure panic as a thick, cold, supernatural white mist instantly poured through the ruined entryway, rolling across the floorboards like a freezing wave.
The temperature in the entire hall plummeted in an instant, turning their breath into white plumes of vapor.
The wolves scrambled, their instincts flaring into high alert as a collective, terrifying growl rose from the crowd.
Warriors drew their concealed blades, Dalton and Theo immediately flanking Kristen with bared fangs, while Malachi stepped back to shield Scarlet.
Through the thick, rolling white fog, a single figure walked into the hall.
He didn’t run, and he didn’t sneak.
He sauntered with an insufferable, terrifying leisure, his polished leather boots clicking sharply against the wood in the dead silence.
He was dressed in a pristine, tailored black suit that looked completely untouched by the splinters of the door, his long dark hair swept back flawlessly.
His piercing red eyes scanned the room, entirely unfazed by the hundreds of feral, growling werewolves baring their fangs at him.
Julian Vance had arrived.
He stopped at the start of the center aisle, looking around at the ruined doors with a dramatic, exaggerated sigh.
“Oh, dear,” Julian drawled, his smooth baritone voice echoing perfectly through the terrified silence of the hall.
He raised a hand, casually dusting a microscopic piece of wood off his sleeve before looking up toward the stage.
His eyes bypassed everyone else, locking instantly onto Kristen’s frozen form.
A slow, wicked, and incredibly arrogant smirk curled up on the vampire prince’s lips, his sharp fangs glinting dangerously under the chandelier lights.
“I do apologize for crashing your little pack meeting, Wolfies,” Julian purred, a dark, bloodthirsty amusement dancing in his eyes as he took a step forward down the aisle.
“But I simply couldn’t wait until evening.
I came to collect my beautiful, submissive little bride a bit early.”
Me kicking my feet while writing this ( ≧Д≦) I want to strangle Julian, but, he’s just so wickedly charming (≧▽≦) this is basically the continuation of chapter 8 :^)