The Alpha's Fated Outcast: Rise Of The Moonsinger. - Chapter 411

Chapter 411: The empty hall II

Clarissa

I remained seated for another moment, looking around the hall that had witnessed so many important decisions over the years.

My father had hosted treaty negotiations here, had welcomed Alphas from across the country, and had built alliances that had kept the South stable for decades. Now that stability was in tatters, and the very leaders who had benefited from Blue Ridge’s strength were turning their backs on his daughter.

“It’s fine,” I told the empty air. “First meetings are rarely pretty.”

Standing slowly, I shrugged out of my blazer and draped it over the chair, then slipped the elastic hairband from my wrist and tied my hair back. I wished I could go for a run, but I couldn’t.

As a nursing mom with a fussy baby, the slightest discomfort would make him wail for hours. Mothers were connected to their children after birth, so the child could feel them shifting into their wolf form.

Gathering the untouched documents from the table, I walked towards the door.

Outside, the sun shone with vengeance as I started in the direction of the pack house. Children were playing and running around. I met a few pack staff and pack members who bowed or dipped their chins to acknowledge me and kept moving.

A pair of warriors were arguing heatedly over a map when they noticed me; they straightened immediately and shouted, “Alpha,” in unison.

“Don’t let me stop the argument,” I said with a smile. “Good plans come from good fights.”

They grinned and kept their heads bowed until I passed before they went back to their argument.

I took the path through the training yards, past the new building in progress for pack healers, though they had set up their medic tents and were still attending to pack members, past the storehouse, until I arrived at the packhouse.

The pack house felt different when I entered; it was warmer and more alive than the formal meeting hall. The sounds of pack members going about their duties, children playing in the courtyard, and the distant sounds of training exercises reminded me why I was fighting for this position in the first place.

Instead of walking to the nursery like I’d intended, I walked straight to my office on the ground floor.

The desk was clean because I try to finish every task every night. It kept my head clear. I sank into the chair, staring at the agenda for a minute, going through all the points I hoped we’d discuss.

I took a pen from the pen holder and proceeded to draw six small boxes, labelling them with the names of each pack.

STONE HILL — logistics choke point/grain stores/winter routes.BLACK RIVER — ferries / smuggling lanes / old favour owed?IRON RIDGE — weapons foundries/ledger pressure point.SILVER MOON — rites / do not intrude, attend quietly / offer relief.REDWOOD — hunts/share patrol tech/show results, not words.FIRESTONE — pride / rituals / bring fire glass from our mines.

When I finished, I leaned back in my chair, staring at my work with pride. Then I left my office and climbed the stairs to the second floor, where the nursery was.

The door was slightly ajar, and I pushed it open carefully, not wanting to wake the children if they were napping.

Emma was at her small table, colouring intently with her tongue poking out in concentration, while baby Nathan slept peacefully in his crib. My mom sat in the rocking chair nearby, cradling my brother while reading and dozing with an open novel on her lap.

As soon as I entered, she looked up, and immediately the sleep cleared from her eyes. She had a smile on her face, but it soon grew stale, and I knew she knew something was wrong.

“How did it go?” she asked softly, not wanting to wake my brother in her arms.

“It didn’t,” I replied, moving to check on the baby. Baby Nathan slept with one tiny fist curled near his face, his dark hair already showing signs of the natural curl that ran in our family. “None of them came.”

I felt her shock even before I turned to see her expression. “None of them?”

“They sent their regrets,” I said, reaching down to gently adjust baby Nathan’s blanket. “Various urgent matters requiring their immediate attention.”

“Clarissa…” My mom started to rise from the chair, but I held up a hand to stop her.

“It’s fine,” I said, and was surprised to find that I actually meant it. “Actually, it’s clarifying.”

Emma looked up from her colouring, her bright green eyes reminded me so much of my father’s “Mama, you look sad.”

I moved to her table and knelt beside her chair, studying her artwork. She was colouring a family portrait. They were stick figures that were meant to be her, baby Nathan, my mom, and me, all holding hands under a large tree.

It was a miracle that she’d bounced back into a bubbly, happy child after the trauma from the war.

“I’m not sad, sweetheart,” I told her, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Mama’s just thinking.”

“About Alpha things?” Emma asked seriously. At four years old, she already understood that I had important responsibilities.

“About Alpha things,” I confirmed, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

I stood and moved to my mom’s chair, taking the novel from her hands and setting it aside. “I need you to do something for me.”

“Anything,” she said immediately.

“Call Beta Jeremy. Tell him to arrange visits to all six packs. We will start tomorrow.”

Her eyebrows rose. “My love, are you sure that’s wise? Going to them individually might look like—”

“Like what?” I asked. “Like I’m desperate? Like I’m weak?” I shook my head. “Mother, they’ve already made their position clear. They don’t respect me as an Alpha, they don’t acknowledge my authority, and they certainly don’t see me as someone they need to answer to.”

“So why give them what they want? Why go to them?”

I looked down at my children – Emma still colouring her happy family, baby Nathan sleeping peacefully, both of them unaware of the political storm brewing around them. These were the future of Blue Ridge. They would grow up in whatever world I managed to build for them.

“Because,” I said quietly, “before I show them what Blue Ridge really means, I want to understand exactly who I’m dealing with. I want to look each of them in the eye and hear them tell me why they think I’m not worthy of their respect.”

My mom was quiet for a moment, studying my face. “And then?”

I smiled, and for the first time all day, I was genuinely pleased rather than merely polite. “Then we’ll see how committed they are to that position.”

The clock in the nursery chimed six times, marking the end of what should have been a historic day.

Instead, it had become the first day of a very different kind of campaign. I had a feeling that by the time I was finished, those six empty chairs would be filled – one way or another.