Chapter 4 - The InvitationPeace lasted twenty-three days.
Harper knew the exact number because she had begun keeping track of peaceful mornings the way other people kept track of birthdays.
Twenty-three mornings in which she woke beside Kane without an emergency call waiting on her phone.
Twenty-three mornings in which nobody needed her to cover a gambling debt, repair a budget, negotiate a ceasefire between arrogant elders or explain why a private aircraft should not be categorized as “regional infrastructure.”
Twenty-three mornings in which Kane’s wolf remained quiet enough that he could sleep until sunrise.
On the twenty-fourth morning, Gideon entered the breakfast room carrying a black envelope.
Harper looked up from her coffee.
“That looks unnecessarily dramatic.”
Gideon placed it beside Kane’s plate.
“It arrived by courier at six fifteen.”
Kane did not touch it.
Harper studied the wax seal.
A silver wolf beneath three stars.
She had seen that symbol before.
Not in person.
In old council records.
“The Northern Dominion.”
Gideon nodded.
Kane’s expression became unreadable.
Harper glanced between them.
“That silence suggests I’m supposed to know why this matters.”
Kane finally picked up the envelope.
“The Northern Dominion controls most organized pack territory between British Columbia and the Yukon.”
“I know that part.”
“They also haven’t attended a Western Conclave in fourteen years.”
“Why?”
“Because Elias Voss considers the regional council weak.”
Harper sipped her coffee.
“Is he wrong?”
Gideon coughed.
Kane looked at her.
“You’ve been Luna for less than a month.”
“And?”
“And perhaps insulting seven allied Alphas before breakfast is ambitious.”
“I didn’t name anyone.”
“You didn’t need to.”
Kane broke the seal.
Inside was a single sheet of heavy paper.
He read it once.
Then again.
Harper put down her mug.
“What?”
Kane handed it to her.
The message was short.
Alpha King Kane Croft and Luna Harper Hayes were formally invited to Winterhold, Elias Voss’s mountain estate north of Vancouver, for a private summit regarding “the future stability of western territories.”
At the bottom was one final sentence.
Your recent domestic difficulties have created questions that can no longer remain private.
Harper read it twice.
Then she looked at Kane.
“Domestic difficulties?”
His jaw hardened.
“Vivian.”
“Vivian is in custody.”
“Her conspiracy became public.”
“Among the council.”
“Among wolves,” Kane corrected. “Nothing stays among the council.”
Harper leaned back.
She understood immediately.
Kane’s instability had been whispered about for years.
The women.
The destruction.
The medication.
Vivian’s manipulation.
His near removal.
Now the truth had emerged, but truth did not erase five years of rumor.
Powerful Alphas outside Kane’s direct territory would not simply accept that everything was fine because Harper had fallen asleep near him and discovered several fraudulent accounts.
They would test him.
Worse, they would test her.
“When?”
“Four days.”
Harper laughed without humor.
“Of course.”
Gideon folded his hands behind his back.
“Winterhold has a reputation.”
“Meaning?”
“Guests are observed.”
Harper looked at him.
“Observed how?”
Kane answered.
“They provoke weakness.”
“How civilized.”
“Elias believes rulers should survive scrutiny.”
“I’m an accountant. Scrutiny is my preferred environment.”
Kane’s mouth almost curved, but his eyes remained troubled.
Harper noticed.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
Kane stood and moved toward the windows.
Beyond them, the Pacific was steel gray beneath the winter sky.
“Elias Voss knew my father.”
There it was.
Not fear exactly.
Something older.
Harper waited.
Kane rarely spoke about his father.
Malcolm Croft had died eight years earlier, leaving Kane an empire stretching across shipping, real estate, private security and pack territories.
In every photograph Harper had seen, Malcolm looked elegant, composed and completely without warmth.
“What was their relationship?”
“Rivals.”
“Political?”
“Everything.”
Kane’s hands tightened behind his back.
“My father believed dominance was the only language another Alpha respected.”
Harper remained silent.
“He trained me the same way.”
There were scars across Kane’s body Harper had never asked about.
She understood more of them now.
“He used to take me to Winterhold,” Kane continued. “Elias’s father hosted challenges every winter. Fighting. Endurance. Territorial contests.”
“How old were you?”
“First time?”
“Yes.”
“Eleven.”
Harper’s fingers went still around her mug.
Gideon looked toward the floor.
Kane’s voice remained calm.
Too calm.
“My father believed fear should be removed early.”
Harper stood.
“He took an eleven-year-old child to combat trials.”
“I wasn’t considered a child.”
“You were eleven.”
“In our world—”
“You were eleven.”
Kane turned.
Something in her expression stopped him.
Harper crossed the room and stood in front of him.
“You are not going back there as Malcolm Croft’s son.”
His gaze sharpened.
“You are going as Kane.”
“That may not matter to Elias.”
“It matters to me.”
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Kane touched the inside of her wrist.
A small gesture.
Private.
His wolf stirred warmly beneath the surface.
Harper felt it now.
Not as words.
As emotion.
The bond between them had developed slowly after Vivian’s arrest.
Their wolves recognized something neither Harper nor Kane had named aloud.
Not yet.
Because naming it would create another category of expectation.
Mate.
The word carried politics, biology, territory, inheritance and enough ceremonial nonsense to give Harper a headache.
She preferred what they had now.
Choice.
Every morning Kane chose her.
Every evening she chose him.
That felt more sacred than destiny.
Gideon cleared his throat.
“There is another complication.”
Harper turned.
“Of course there is.”
“Elias’s daughter will be present.”
Kane closed his eyes briefly.
Harper noticed.
“Why is that important?”
Gideon looked almost apologetic.
“Seraphine Voss was once considered a likely political match for Kane.”
Harper went very still.
Kane spoke immediately.
“Nothing happened.”
“I didn’t ask.”
“You were about to.”
“I was deciding whether your elderly councilmen had previously prepared a spreadsheet ranking genetically desirable women.”
Gideon looked uncomfortable.
Kane said nothing.
Harper stared.
“They did?”
“It was not a spreadsheet.”
“What was it?”
“A dossier.”
“That is worse.”
“It had photographs,” Gideon added.
Harper pointed at him.
“Stop helping.”
He looked down.
Kane stepped closer.
“I met Seraphine three times.”
“How romantic.”
“I barely spoke to her.”
“Devastating.”
“She hated me.”
Harper paused.
“That improves the story.”
Kane’s mouth twitched.
Then his expression became serious again.
“Harper.”
She looked at him.
“There is nothing between us.”
“I believe you.”
His shoulders relaxed slightly.
“But,” she continued, “if she’s going to spend four days trying to determine whether I’m worthy of standing beside you, I reserve the right to examine her family’s tax structure.”
Gideon turned away quickly.
Kane laughed.
The sound filled the room.
And for several seconds, the black envelope seemed less threatening.
Four days later, Winterhold rose from the mountains like something built for war rather than hospitality.
The estate sat above a frozen lake surrounded by dense pine forest.
Stone walls.
Iron gates.
Watchtowers.
Harper stared through the SUV window.
“Subtle.”
Kane’s hand rested over hers.
“You can still turn around.”
She looked at him.
“Are you planning to?”
“No.”
“Then why would I?”
His thumb moved across her knuckles.
The gates opened.
More than thirty wolves stood along the entrance courtyard.
Some wore formal coats.
Others wore ceremonial black.
Every eye moved toward the vehicle.
Testing.
Measuring.
Harper felt Kane’s body change beside her.
Not visibly.
His posture simply became more precise.
His presence expanded.
The old Alpha King.
The version built for rooms full of predators.
Harper squeezed his hand.
He looked at her.
“Don’t perform,” she said quietly.
His eyes narrowed.
“They expect the Alpha King.”
“They can meet him.”
“What’s the difference?”
“You know.”
The vehicle stopped.
Gideon opened the door.
Cold air rushed inside.
Kane stepped out first.
Silence spread across the courtyard.
His power moved outward.
Controlled.
Heavy.
Magnificent.
But not violent.
Harper followed.
She felt the attention shift.
She wore dark green wool, black boots and no ceremonial jewelry except a simple silver pin bearing Croft’s crest.
Several women looked disappointed.
Several men looked amused.
One older Alpha whispered something.
Harper heard only the final word.
Accountant.
She smiled.
Good.
Let them underestimate her.
At the top of the stairs stood Elias Voss.
He was perhaps sixty, broad-shouldered, silver-haired and still physically powerful.
Beside him stood a woman Harper immediately identified as Seraphine.
Tall.
Black hair.
Pale eyes.
Beautiful in the sharp way of winter.
Seraphine looked at Kane.
Then at Harper.
Then back at Kane.
Harper waited for hostility.
Instead, Seraphine exhaled visibly.
“Oh, thank God.”
Harper blinked.
Kane looked confused.
Seraphine descended two steps.
“You actually brought someone.”
Elias frowned.
“Seraphine.”
“What? You tried to marry me to him for six years.”
Kane stared at her.
“I was unaware it was that long.”
“You ignored every letter.”
“I thought they were ceremonial.”
“They were.”
Harper looked at Kane.
“You received ceremonial courtship letters?”
“I did not read them.”
Seraphine smiled at Harper for the first time.
“You may be my favorite person here.”
Elias’s expression suggested nobody was behaving properly.
“Enough.”
His voice carried Alpha authority.
The courtyard became instantly still.
Elias descended until he stood directly in front of Kane.
For several long seconds, the two men said nothing.
Then Elias looked toward Harper.
“You are smaller than I expected.”
Harper smiled pleasantly.
“You are older.”
Someone behind them choked.
Gideon suddenly became interested in the mountains.
Seraphine covered her mouth.
Kane’s eyes closed for half a second.
Elias stared at Harper.
She held his gaze.
Then, unexpectedly, the old Alpha laughed.
“Malcolm would have hated you.”
Harper’s smile disappeared.
“Then we already have something in common.”
This time, Kane looked at her sharply.
Elias’s amusement faded.
Something unreadable passed through his face.
He turned.
“Come inside.”
Winterhold’s main hall could have held three hundred people.
A massive fire burned beneath a stone mantle.
Pack banners hung from the walls.
Harper counted seven territories represented.
So much for a private summit.
She leaned closer to Kane.
“How many people did the invitation imply?”
“Four.”
“There are at least eighty.”
“I noticed.”
“Good. I was worried Alpha eyesight involved different mathematics.”
His fingers brushed the small of her back.
A warning and reassurance at once.
At the far end of the hall, several council members turned openly toward them.
One man did not.
He stood alone near the windows.
Younger than Elias.
Perhaps Kane’s age.
Dark blond hair.
Scar across one cheek.
Harper felt Kane become completely still.
“Who?”
His answer came quietly.
“Lucian Vale.”
The name meant nothing to Harper.
Gideon, behind them, whispered one word.
“Impossible.”
Lucian turned.
His eyes were gold.
Not amber.
Not wolf-bright.
Gold.
Exactly like Kane’s when control once failed.
Then Lucian smiled.
“Hello, brother.”
The entire hall went silent.
Harper looked at Kane.
Kane did not move.
For the first time since she had met him, fear crossed the Alpha King’s face before he could hide it.
And Harper understood that Winterhold had never invited them there to discuss Vivian.
They had been summoned because someone had just resurrected a secret Kane’s father had buried for thirty years.
May you like
A secret with Kane’s eyes.
A secret calling him brother.
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