Chapter 138: Are You Sitting Down? Yes. Why.

"That was for your benefit, dear," the High Luna clarified. "Celeste told me you were struggling with intimacy and needed help. I wanted to make sure they were being supportive so I gave them pamphlets."

"You gave my guards PAMPHLETS?"

"Oh yes. But don’t worry, dear. Tasteful ones. From the healers’ wing. Very educational. I learned things. Rest your grandfather’s soul. Some of the diagrams were surprisingly athletic. I flagged the ones I thought were realistic for your build. And the pressure points to increase sperm count."

There are moments that split your life in half. Before and after. For Landon Thunderfang, this was the moment of no return.

Landon sat. His legs quit the conversation and his brain blue-screened on the way down. He stared at his gran the way you stare at a wall that has just revealed a door you did not know existed and behind the door is a room you can never unsee.

"Anyways, dear," the High Luna continued. "They have been distributed pack-wide. I thought it would normalize the conversation. They have been overwhelmingly supportive of their Alpha during this learning process."

Landon’s jaw went through a full range of motion without producing a single word. He closed his eyes. Opened them. The room was still there. His gran was still there. The pamphlets were still out there, somewhere, in the hands of wolves who now believed either their Alpha needed help in that department or their Alpha was playing sex games that required a sensitivity briefing. Pick one.

The High Luna took an unbothered sip of her new glass of wine. "Oh this one is delightful." Then she turned back to Landon, who was staring at the floor, distant again. "Celeste volunteered to lead a couples’ workshop once she is crowned Luna. She said, and I quote, ’If the Alpha is brave enough to seek help, the least we can do is create a safe space.’ You’ve started a movement, Landon. Just know that it’s okay to ask for help when you are struggling."

Landon’s head snapped up.

"Correction. I am not ’struggling.’ Celeste is the issue. I don’t want her. There’s a difference. The pamphlets stop today. Celeste is not going to be crowned. She is leaving."

"Of course you’re not struggling," she replied, giving him a knowing nod. "But dissolution protocol is a long one, dear. Reassigning a match requires a retrieval request, formal review, a notarized petition from three priestesses, a panel vote, and a minimum fourteen-day processing period. The elders wrote it and they wrote it specifically because of situations like this. The Alpha wants his mistress so he starts a war."

"Thirteen days now," Landon fired back. "I started it this morning. And there is zero reason she needs to be here during that processing period. She is a liability every second she stays in this Keep."

"How? By trying to connect with you? Her mate. The man she is supposed to marry. She’s a princess, Landon. You could do worse."

"The princess card is getting really old, Gran," Landon replied, voice clipped. "She broke into my chambers. She took holo-images of me asleep. She tried to force a marking. If anyone else had done that, I would be pressing charges. Because she is a princess I have not. But I want her out. What part of that is complicated?"

"You’ve rejected the princess since the day you were paired and now you are rubbing a slave girl in her face. A mistress, Landon. Already. You aren’t even married yet. Can you blame her for being emotional? I can’t. The solution is simple. Remove the slave. Keep the alliance. Stop making problems that shouldn’t exist. When Derek wakes up, he buys another slave. There’s plenty out there that don’t light things on fire. Celeste can help with the arrangement. I’m sure they have a few spare ones that are scheduled for the Lottery."

Landon stood. "Nova stays. Celeste goes. That is final. Alpha’s order. I will not repeat myself again."

"Well." The High Luna settled back into her chair with the composure of a woman who had lost a battle but was still winning the war. "I suppose it’s all rather moot at the moment, seeing as the girl is in jail anyway."

The sentence arrived like a punch someone threw after the fight was already over.

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Semantics, dear."

"Not semantics, Gran. That was very specific. What do you mean she is in jail?"

The High Luna inspected her wine, unbothered. "I don’t have the full details. I am told that the slave was caught breaking and entering."

"Breaking and entering," Landon repeated, his voice dropping into something dangerous. "Where? Why haven’t I been notified?"

"Why would you be notified? You have a lot on your plate. I think it was Stormrest Hospital."

"You think?"

"Yes."

"Was she trying to see Derek?"

"Well, yes. Obviously to see Derek."

Landon stared at her in disbelief. "You’re joking."

"No. I’m not joking. The woman who put him in a coma broke into his room to finish the job. This is your brother’s safety, dear."

"When the hell did this happen?"

The High Luna waved her hand in the air like she was swatting a gnat made of Landon’s concern. "This morning. Let the law handle her. When Derek wakes he can decide if he wants to bail her out."

Landon was already at the door.

"The pamphlets covered conflict resolution," she called after him. "Celeste mentioned you—"

The door shut on the rest of the sentence.

???

TWELVE HOURS EARLIER

EMBERCLAW ESTATE — ALPHA’S STUDY

Maverick Emberclaw’s holo-band pulsed.

Unknown encryption. No sender ID. No visual feed. Just a rune-audio signature bouncing off a relay he didn’t recognize. His encryption was military-grade. Less than ten people had it. Everyone else went through his office.

He accepted the ping.

No holo-image materialized. Just audio.

"Maverick."

"Maria? Your encryption is showing as unknown. Where are you pinging from?"

"Are you sitting down?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Okay so first of all, I used my one ping on Sierra," Maria began. "She’s the new Gamma Luna. Well not yet. But she’s our friend. Unfortunately, she did not pick up. Tavian is resting from the fire. I told him to wear the oxygen mask but he didn’t listen to me. I know, I know, I also wasn’t wearing mine for a few minutes there. But Tavian didn’t wear one at all and he was giving orders like he was completely fine. He told the Alpha he was fine. And I told him, ’Tavian, you should wear one and get checked out.’ He didn’t. And now he feels icky. So he’s recovering today and asleep with an oxygen clip. Long story short, I’m in a holding cell."

"Slow down. What do you mean ’holding cell’?"