Free Web NovelChapter 367: Chapter 367 What Stays Close
Elijah
We don’t confront father right away, not because we don’t know what he did, and not because the proof isn’t clean, but because sometimes the most dangerous thing you can do to a man like him is let him believe he still controls the board.
Daniel’s file sits in our shared buffer, sealed, time-stamped, verified, and ugly in its clarity, and Ethan doesn’t say a word as we review it together, his silence heavier than anger, Ezra’s jaw tight but still, Damon pacing behind his eyes, while I stand a little closer to Allison than strictly necessary, my shoulder nearly brushing hers as if proximity alone can anchor what the truth wants to unmoor.
’We log it,’ Ethan mindlinks, controlled and precise. ’We share it upward and we watch.’
’And we don’t tip him yet,’ Ezra adds. ’Not until we see his next move.’ I nod once, because patience isn’t weakness, it’s strategy, and father has always mistaken volume for authority, mistaking the lack of immediate challenge as agreement.
Allison’s hand finds mine briefly, fingers warm, steady, and I let it, because this isn’t the moment to pretend distance equals professionalism.
’You okay?’ I ask her through the link, keeping my tone soft.
’I am,’ she answers, and I believe her, not because she isn’t rattled, but because she’s choosing to stand anyway.
We loop Queen Kiara and King Maze in within the hour, the call secure, wards layered, Daniel handling chain-of-custody while Mateo cross-checks sigil resonance to ensure nothing’s been tampered with, and when Kiara watches the file play out her expression hardens into something glacial. freewebnøvel.com
"This is not a misunderstanding," she says flatly. "This is deliberate interference, and I will not tolerate Alpha Jack undermining Allison again, not privately and not publicly."
Ethan doesn’t hesitate.
"Neither will we."
"Not once." Ezra nods.
"She stands with us. Any move against her is a move against the pack." I add, because it matters that I do.
Kiara’s gaze sharpens, approval cutting clean through the feed.
"Good," she says. "Because the next step won’t be a conversation." Maze inclines his head slightly, calm as ever.
"Containment before confrontation is wise. Keep your lines tight."
The call is ending when another presence joins, unannounced but unmistakable, Queen Abigail’s voice slipping in with amused precision.
"If you’re expecting discretion," she says lightly, "you should stop having conversations this interesting." Ezra exhales through his nose.
"You were listening."
"I was adjacent," Abigail replies cheerfully. "And since Alpha Jack appears to be a liability, I’ll be coming to Blue Ridge as soon as possible to help with some royal training." I catch the subtext immediately, the way her tone sharpens just a hair on the last words. Ears and eyes. Good ones.
"We’ll accommodate," Ethan says, and it isn’t a request.
After the call ends, the house feels quieter, not calm, but focused, like a bowstring pulled tight, and that’s when we ask mother for a meeting. Not later, not after dinner, not once father has time to spin his own version, but now, while the truth is still sharp and unsoftened by excuses.
She meets us in the sunroom, the one she prefers because the light comes in clean and honest, and Allison stands beside me as we enter, her posture respectful without being small, her presence unmistakable, and I don’t let more than a step open between us because the pack is watching even if they pretend not to be.
Mother looks up as we arrive, her expression warm, curious, then questioning as she takes us in together.
"What’s this about?" she asks, and there’s no suspicion in her tone, just concern.
"We need to talk about father." Ethan answers carefully and her mouth tightens, not in surprise, but in fatigue.
"I was wondering when that would happen."
Ezra folds his arms loosely.
"We’re not accusing," he says, measured. "We’re asking where you stand."
Mother studies us for a long moment, her gaze lingering on Allison, then on the way my hand hovers just close enough to Allison’s back to touch if needed, and something resolute settles into her expression.
"I would not put anything past him," she says finally, voice quiet but firm. "And I am done with his purist obsessions. They’ve cost this pack enough already." Allison inhales softly beside me, surprised, and I feel her tension ease just a fraction.
Mother turns fully toward her then, eyes softening.
"I adore you," she says without hesitation. "And I want to be a role model for you, if you’ll allow it, not because you need guidance, but because this pack needs to see what respect looks like." Allison blinks, clearly unprepared, then inclines her head gracefully.
"I’d like that," she replies, genuine and warm. "Thank you Luna Ella." Mother smiles, and it’s real, not political.
"You’re welcome, Luna Allison." The word lands in the room, deliberate and unmistakable and I don’t let the moment pass.
I step closer to Allison, my hand settling at her waist with quiet certainty, and I meet mother’s gaze without flinching.
"She’s my mate," I say calmly, and I don’t lower my voice, because the hallway carries sound and that’s the point. "And she’s Luna to me." Ezra shifts in beside us.
"To all of us."
"Publicly and privately." Ethan nods once.
Mother’s smile widens, pride threading through it.
"Then it’s settled."
From that moment on, I don’t leave Allison’s side, not in meetings, not in corridors, not when the pack drifts close under the excuse of errands or curiosity, because presence is communication and I want every wolf watching to understand that my words aren’t theoretical.
When I reach for her hand, I don’t hide it and when I call her Luna, I don’t soften it.
When someone addresses her, I stay within arm’s length, not looming, not guarding, just there, constant as gravity.
Some of the pack responds with open acceptance, relief written across their faces as if this clarity gives them permission to relax, others with wary respect, recalibrating their assumptions, and a few with open resentment that sharpens into something colder when they realize it won’t move me.
Let them look and let them learn.
Allison handles it with grace, warmth rolling off her deliberately, not naive but generous, meeting greetings with smiles and measured words, acknowledging hesitation without shrinking from it, and I stay close enough to feel when she needs grounding and when she’s steady on her own.
Later, when mother joins us again in the commons, she places a hand briefly on Allison’s shoulder, affectionate and visible.
"Our future Luna has handled today with more restraint than many born to this pack." She says, affection in her voice, as it was in her actions. The effect is immediate, murmurs shifting tone, postures easing, because mother’s approval carries weight father’s bluster never could.
Whatever father is planning, whatever path he thinks he’s still walking in unity, he’s doing it without us now, and without the illusion that his choices go unseen. freewёbnoνel.com
I stay beside Allison as the day winds down, close enough to touch, close enough to shield without blocking her view, and when she finally looks up at me, eyes tired but steady, I squeeze her hand once.
"I’m not going anywhere," I tell her quietly.
"I know," she answers, and there’s no doubt in it.
And that’s the point.
Whatever comes next, whoever Lizzy is moving with, whatever father thinks he’s salvaging, the pack has already seen where I stand, and I intend to keep standing there, close, visible, and unmovable.
