Chapter 297: Meet Your New Stepfucker

If the gods had a split-screen, this is where they’d need all five panels because the universe was running five parallel shitstorms and none of them had gone to commercial.

FIRST SCREEN: So You Think You Can Mage

A sandwich-eating ex-con-turned Master Mage who, it turns out, just needed someone to believe in him before he could believe in himself. Tonight’s episode: saving a keep one confiscated black-market feather at a time.

SECOND SCREEN: The Apprentice

Beta Boy and Door Kid, sitting in the council chamber among the Lunaris wolves who’d arrived earlier that day with the Alpha. Beta Boy was freshly informed in passing that he was auditioning for a Gamma seat by the Alpha. Will Beta Boy get a "You’re Fired" from the Alpha or will he rise to it?

THIRD SCREEN: Say Yes to the Arrest

Resurrected king. Fugitive fated mate. Marketplace date. Every surface she touched called the cops. They both thought she was wanted for trespassing. Surprise, bitch. She was actually wanted for the murder of a king. He’s averaging one kiss per marketplace block. The murder charge is averaging one block closer. Which lands first?

FOURTH SCREEN: Whose Crime Is It Anyway?

Portals were up, which meant the Dream Team could assemble in Greyhall Crossing. Featuring: Maddox (the Dragon King), Kael (smart-ass is a lifestyle), Jaxon (genius out-maged by a felon), Lux (she IS the damn limit), Ryker (the coin flipping second-in-command), and Sterling (loading empathy... 25% complete).

Current briefing: Ryker and Sterling were informing the team that Guinevere had a bloody dagger in Drakencrest Keep and she disappeared in white light.

Upcoming bombshells: Maddox announces that Guinevere is wanted for the attempted murder of Landon Solveil. And six brilliant minds are about to solve two plus two, get seven, and immediately start coordinating a cover story like professionals.

FIFTH SCREEN: The Real Alphas of Nyros

On tonight’s episode: The Alphas return to the table that gaslit them and their tokens the night prior. Roll call:

Shadowfell:

"If my territory outshines yours, that’s a you problem."

The Blackmoor Twins:

"I don’t need to be right. I just need Darwin to be wrong."

Lunaris:

"I’m not the villain. I’m the man the villain calls for advice."

Ashfang:

"Four wives, nine summits, and I still show up looking this good."

Veilcross:

"Twice I said I was leaving. I lied. Shut up."

Thornback:

"I switched sides and I’d do it again."

Silverglen:

"I didn’t come here to outshine everyone’s territory on the map. And yet."

Ironmaw:

"I did the hokey pokey with my token and I’m still not over it."

Duskwin:

"I’m not here to compete. I’m here to remind you that you lost."

Every screen was doing something worth numbering. But tonight, the fifth screen gets the domino.

✦✦✦

DOMINO 69: MEET YOUR NEW STEPDAD

GREYHALL CROSSING - COUNCIL CHAMBER

Sleep is a luxury. So is common sense. Tonight, the Alphas had neither.

Forty-seven of them walked into a council chamber.

That was the first surprise. Over half had sworn they were heading home, but not one of them did.

Either the Alphas were committed to the cause, loyal to Nicholas, or too curious to walk away from a trainwreck this spectacular. All three motivations produced the same result: a full chamber.

Tonight, they were in for a treat! Democracy had a good run.

The current consensus in the chamber was that nobody had seen Nicholas Shadowfell all day. But every Alpha in that room respected what he’d done the session before. And everyone understood why he did the lockdown.

The doors opened.

Renwick Lunaris entered the council chamber like he owned every motherfucker in the room and dared someone to challenge it. Nobody had the balls.

The hall fell silent. The instant, guillotine kind that happens only for the coldest sons of bitches.

Renwick stopped at his spot and did not sit.

When he spoke, it was with the calm of a man playing cold-blooded chess, and the Alphas were just pawns he’d written off.

"Shadowfell had to step away. I’ve been asked to fill in for him. We have a full table and a list of shit that’s only getting longer, so we’re proceeding."

As one, every pair of bloodshot eyes zeroed in on Shadowfell’s empty seat, then snapped back to Renwick with expressions ranging from "you’re not my dad" to "who the hell gave him the remote" to "I don’t care if Shadowfell signed the permission slip. I’m still not getting in the creepy white kidnapping carriage with you."

A buzz ripped through the room with the energy of a dinner table when the new stepdad decides tonight’s the night he introduces his house rules.

"Step away?" Alpha Ironmaw’s voice cut through the conversations. "The man who called this summit and locked down the entire building just stepped away?"

"Where the hell is Shadowfell?" Veilcross demanded. On brand. He had the political instincts of a drunk goat headbutting a brick wall, but he’d be damned if he didn’t commit to every single collision.

"His business is his business," Renwick answered. "I didn’t ask for details because I don’t need them and neither do you. A man who unified all of Nyros in a single session doesn’t leave his own summit without reason. Respect that. Or don’t. Either way, we’re proceeding."

"Respect that," Darwin Blackmoor repeated. "You want us to respect an empty chair."

Renwick looked at Darwin the way a stepdad looks at his wife’s least impressive, most annoying kid, already calculating how fast he can ship the little shit to boarding school.

"Forty-seven of you are sitting in this room because of that man. Half of you wouldn’t be here without his supply lines. He earned the right to step away without explaining himself to a table he built."

"So we are getting the political equivalent of he’s in the bathing chamber," Ironmaw stated, loud enough for the Betas in the back.

"You’re going to get what I give you, Ironmaw, and you’re going to find it sufficient."

"What if I don’t find it sufficient, Lunaris?" Ironmaw fired, staring Renwick down like the oldest brother who’s waited until mom stopped crying to let the stepdad know exactly where he stands.

"Then you’ll sit there looking insufficient and I don’t give a damn. We’re proceeding," Renwick replied, voice flat.

Without waiting for a response or sitting, he drew his dagger across his palm, pressed blood to the Lunaris token, and set it in the slot.

Every eye went to Lunaris on the map.