Chapter 66: The Pack That Wanted Nessa

The proposal arrived in a gold envelope.

That alone made me suspicious.

Rhea opened it before I could.

"Privacy?"

"Alpha correspondence is archival material."

"After I read it."

"Technicality."

She scanned the page.

Then started laughing.

"What?"

She handed it to me.

The Redwood Pack wanted me to become their temporary Alpha.

I read it twice.

"They know I already have a Pack?"

"Apparently."

Redwood's Alpha had died without an heir.

Under the Moonwell Charter, they refused forced consolidation.

Good.

But they needed interim leadership while organizing an election.

They requested me.

Not Rowan.

Me.

"Why?"

Rhea read the attached explanation.

"Because Lunaris restoration demonstrated expertise in post-crisis governance."

I stared.

"When did I get expertise?"

"Somewhere between the kidnappings."

Redwood sat three hundred miles west.

Small Pack.

Forested territory.

Population eight hundred.

I couldn't lead both Packs permanently.

But temporary stewardship was legally possible.

Rowan encouraged me to consider it.

I narrowed my eyes.

"You want me gone?"

"Desperately."

"Rowan."

He smiled.

"I think it's an honor."

"It could take months."

"I know."

"We'd barely see each other."

"I know."

I studied him.

No possessiveness.

No subtle pressure.

That almost made the decision harder.

"I don't know if I want it."

"Then don't do it."

"What if I should?"

"That's different from wanting it."

Annoyingly good advice.

I visited Redwood.

The territory was beautiful.

Ancient trees.

River valleys.

But the Pack was divided.

Three factions wanted different successors.

They didn't trust one another enough to appoint someone internally.

An elder named Maeve explained why they chose me.

"You know what it's like to inherit ruins."

That hit.

"We're not ruins."

"No."

She smiled sadly.

"But we're close."

I stayed three days.

Listened.

Observed.

By the end, I knew I could help.

I also knew I didn't want to become their Alpha.

That felt selfish.

Maeve disagreed.

"We didn't ask you to sacrifice your life."

"Temporary leadership is still leadership."

"Then offer another solution."

So I did.

Instead of becoming interim Alpha, I proposed a three-person stewardship council elected by Redwood wolves.

Lunaris would provide neutral administrative support.

Nightvale would provide security only if requested.

No outside Alpha would rule them.

Some hated it.

Others loved it.

The vote passed sixty-one percent.

Redwood elected Maeve, a young warrior named Joel, and a school director named Sana.

None came from the old Alpha family.

Historic.

At the first council meeting, Maeve asked me to stay as adviser.

That I accepted.

One weekend a month.

Remote meetings when needed.

No authority over Redwood wolves.

On the drive home, I thought about why the original request had unsettled me.

Once, being wanted would've been irresistible.

Knox wanted me?

I changed myself.

A Pack wanted me?

Old Nessa might have said yes just to prove she was valuable.

Now I could be wanted and still ask whether I wanted the same thing back.

That was new.

Rowan met me at Lunaris.

"Well?"

"I declined."

He smiled.

"Happy?"

"Yes."

"Then good."

"I became adviser."

His smile disappeared dramatically.

"So I still lose one weekend a month."

"Tragic."

"I'll survive."

"You have an entire continent to govern."

"Less interesting."

We walked toward the cedar.

A group of young Lunaris wolves were practicing shifts nearby.

One girl lost balance and rolled down a small hill.

Everyone laughed.

She laughed too.

Normal.

I loved normal.

My phone buzzed.

Maeve.

[First council argument. Joel wants expanded patrols. Sana wants school funding. Help.]

I showed Rowan.

He laughed.

"Expert."

"Shut up."

I typed back:

[Make them both bring numbers. No decisions until everyone explains what problem they're actually trying to solve.]

Rowan read over my shoulder.

"That sounds suspiciously competent."

"I hate you."

"No, you don't."

Unfortunately, Supreme Alpha was correct.

Redwood's first months under shared stewardship were messy. Votes tied. Meetings ran late. Joel and Sana disagreed constantly. Maeve threatened to ban speeches longer than five minutes. Yet nobody challenged the council with claws. Nobody declared blood gave them automatic authority. The Pack learned governance the same way people learned anything difficult: imperfectly and publicly. When their first permanent Alpha election was scheduled, I realized they no longer needed my monthly visits. That made me unexpectedly emotional. Successful help was supposed to make itself unnecessary. I was learning to be proud of leaving rather than being needed forever.

Later, I wrote the day's events in my private journal. I had learned not to trust memory to preserve uncertainty, because hindsight made every decision look cleaner than it had felt. I recorded what frightened me, what I almost misunderstood, and which people had changed my mind. Leadership was easier to romanticize after the danger passed. I wanted the record to remain honest.

Later, I wrote the day's events in my private journal. I had learned not to trust memory to preserve uncertainty, because hindsight made every decision look cleaner than it had felt. I recorded what frightened me, what I almost misunderstood, and which people had changed my mind. Leadership was easier to romanticize after the danger passed. I wanted the record to remain honest.