Chapter 2: Reluctant Ruler

POV: Elara

It didn’t feel real, not yet. As I stood before the Talon Pack, with every set of eyes trained on me, I could almost believe I’d stumbled into someone else’s life. But no—I was their Alpha now, whether they accepted it or not.

The air was thick with tension, a palpable weight pressing against my skin. I could feel the skepticism radiating from the elders clustered near the back. It had been simmering for weeks, ever since my father’s death, spreading like a quiet infection. They were waiting for me to falter, watching to see if I would crumble under the weight of a legacy I wasn’t sure I could carry.

The whispers didn’t surprise me. I’d heard them before—questions about whether I was too young, too inexperienced, too compassionate to lead. Most of all, they compared me to him: Marcus, the Alpha whose shadow loomed over every decision I made.

As I stood there, at the heart of the pack compound where generations of Alphas had once faced this same burden, I realized something. It didn’t matter whether I thought I was ready. They didn’t need my doubts; they needed my strength. If I wavered now, I would lose them.

No. I wouldn’t falter. Not today. Not ever.

Drawing a breath as heavy as the mountain air around us, I squared my shoulders and met their eyes head-on. These wolves—my pack—deserved more than hesitation and doubt. They deserved an Alpha who would fight for them, who would protect them, who would lead them through the storm that was already gathering on the horizon. If I wanted their loyalty, I would have to earn it, one step at a time.

“Talon Pack,” I began, my voice steady, though every beat of my heart felt like a drum in my chest. “We stand at a turning point.”

My words carried over the compound, quieting the scattered murmurs. I let the silence linger, meeting as many gazes as I could. I saw wolves I had grown up with, wolves who had taught me, fought beside me, and watched me grow into the role I now carried. I saw support in some of their eyes, but also doubt, hesitation, and in a few, open distrust.

“I know,” I continued, letting the weight of their expectations press against me without bending, “that many of you have questions. I know some of you doubt whether I am ready to lead. I can’t deny that things have changed, or that my father’s loss has left us shaken. But I will not let that loss break us. We are Talon Pack. We endure.”

There was a ripple through the crowd—a shift, subtle but clear. Some wolves straightened slightly, their eyes narrowing in thought rather than skepticism. Others exchanged murmured words, the tension between them less sharp. I wasn’t winning them over yet, but I had their attention.

“I was raised to believe that the strength of a pack lies in its unity. It lies in the bonds we share, the trust we build, and the loyalty we give to one another. My father taught me that, and I will honor his memory by ensuring that Talon Pack remains strong—not just against our enemies, but within ourselves.”

The elders exchanged glances, their gazes sharp as knives. Osric stepped forward, his expression as unreadable as ever, though his lips were set in a tight line.

“Alpha,” he began, the word heavy with unspoken challenge. “Your speech is stirring, but the pack needs more than words. What are your plans for the border patrols? Or will you leave our safety to chance?”

The murmurs among the elders grew louder, their doubt sharpening into something tangible. I took a breath, steadying myself before answering. “The patrol schedules are being expanded, Osric. I’ve already ordered additional teams to cover the northern pass and the eastern ridge.”

“And are those teams equipped to handle an attack from Silas?” Osric pressed, his tone sharper now. “Or are we relying on promises and goodwill to protect our pack?”

The accusation stung, but I refused to let it show. “We are reinforcing the patrols with pairs of senior wolves to guide the younger ones. They’ll rotate shifts and practice drills daily to ensure we are prepared.”

“And yet you stand here,” he said, his voice a quiet growl, “expecting loyalty without proof of your own readiness. You speak of unity, but trust is earned, not demanded.”

For a moment, the weight of his words pressed against me. My gaze shifted, and I caught a flicker of doubt in the faces of the younger wolves. This was my moment to act—not to waver.

I squared my shoulders, holding his gaze. “You’re right, Osric. Trust is earned, and I have every intention of earning it. That’s why I’ll be leading the next patrol myself. Any wolf who doubts my readiness can see for themselves exactly what I’m capable of.”

The murmurs shifted, some wolves exchanging surprised glances. Osric narrowed his eyes, studying me for a moment before stepping back. “Very well,” he said gruffly. “We’ll see.”

As the pack began to disperse, I lingered, my mind racing. I needed a moment of solitude, a chance to process the weight of what lay ahead. My feet carried me to the edge of the compound, where the dense forest stretched out like an ocean of shadows. The scent of pine and damp earth filled my lungs, grounding me in the present.

My thoughts drifted to my father. He had been a commanding figure, a wolf who inspired fear as much as respect. He had led with unwavering strength, but also with distance, his bond with the pack more practical than personal. Was that the kind of Alpha I needed to be?

“No,” I whispered to the wind. “I will lead differently.”

The memory of his voice lingered: A pack divided is a pack destroyed. The Alpha’s role is to unify, at any cost. He had believed that unity came from strength alone, from domination and command. But I wanted more. I wanted the pack to follow me not out of fear, but out of belief.

“Thinking about Marcus?”

The voice startled me, and I turned to see Osric standing a few feet away, his expression softened by the flickering torchlight. His protective nature was evident in the way he kept a respectful distance, yet his gaze held the same skepticism that had shadowed our earlier exchange.

“I was,” I admitted. “He was a strong leader. But strength isn’t everything.”

Osric crossed his arms, leaning against a tree. “Marcus knew how to keep the pack together. He made hard choices.”

“And some of those choices drove us apart,” I countered, meeting his gaze. “Dante’s banishment—do you think that united us? Or did it fracture us more deeply than we want to admit?”

Osric’s jaw tightened, his silence speaking volumes. Finally, he said, “You’re not Marcus, Elara. That much is clear. But whether that’s a strength or a weakness is yet to be seen.”

I straightened, letting his words settle without flinching. “Then watch closely, Osric. Because I’ll show you—and the pack—that unity doesn’t come from fear. It comes from trust. And I’ll earn it, one step at a time.”