Free Web NovelChapter 146: Conservatives’ Counter-Movement
An announcement came at dawn.
Lord Pemberton stood in the great hall; a scroll unfurled in his trembling hands. Behind him, forty-three nobles had gathered: conservatives who had once followed Vesper, now united under a new banner.
"I hereby found the Pure Blood League," Pemberton declared. His voice cracked, but his eyes were steady. "Dedicated to preserving wolf hierarchy and opposing human transformation. We do not seek violence. We seek to protect what is sacred."
Seren watched from the gallery.
Beside her, Lysa whispered, "Pemberton? He was loyal. He voted for the charter."
"He was loyal to the crown. Not to the institute." Seren’s voice was flat. "The institute scares him. It scares a lot of wolves."
Below, Pemberton continued. "The Transformation Institute claims to seek knowledge. But we know the truth. It is the first step toward human domination. First, they study transformation. Then they demand it as a right. Then wolves become the servants, and humans become the masters."
Murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd.
"Is that what you want?" Pemberton’s voice rose. "Is that what you fought for at the border? A kingdom where wolves bow to humans?"
"No!" The shout came from Lord Halden, who had somehow found his way back into favor. "Never!" freēwēbηovel.c૦m
The Pure Blood League was born.
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Within a week, the league had five hundred members.
Nobles who had once opposed Vesper now flocked to Pemberton’s banner. Common wolves, afraid of losing their status, joined in droves. Even some humans, especially those who had prospered under the old hierarchy, signed on, desperate to preserve their place.
Tensions rose.
Institute supporters wore blue ribbons on their sleeves. League members wore white. The palace corridors became battlegrounds of glares and muttered insults.
The first fistfight broke out in the east wing.
A young wolf scholar from the institute was walking to her quarters when three league members blocked her path. Words were exchanged. Then fists. The scholar lost a tooth. The league members lost their dignity when guards arrived.
Seren summoned Pemberton to her chambers.
"Lord Pemberton." She did not offer him a seat. "You founded an organization dedicated to opposing the crown’s policies."
"I founded an organization dedicated to protecting wolves." His voice was steady, but his hands shook. "The institute is dangerous, Your Majesty. You must see that."
"The institute is *research*. No one is transforming. No one is being forced to do anything."
"Yet."
Seren stepped closer. "You voted for the charter. You supported the school. You danced at my wedding. What changed?"
Pemberton’s jaw tightened. "I saw the volunteers. The desperate humans who want to become wolves. They look at us like we’re obstacles. Like we’re *enemies*. And I realized..."
"Realized what?"
"That you cannot give people hope without also giving them ambition. The charter gave humans rights. The school gave them education. The institute gives them the dream of becoming *us*. Where does it end?"
Seren studied him.
"You’re afraid."
"I’m *pragmatic*."
"Same thing, with wolves."
The violence escalated.
A second fight broke out in the library. A third in the gardens. Institute supporters were shoved against walls. League members had their blue ribbons torn off and burned.
Captain Voss, still rebuilding his reputation, struggled to maintain order. His guards were outnumbered. The palace was fracturing.
Seren called an emergency council.
"The Pure Blood League is not illegal," Aeron said. "They have the right to assemble. To protest."
"They don’t have the right to assault my scholars," Seren countered.
"No. But proving who threw the first punch is difficult when both sides are fighting."
Kael slammed his hand on the table. "Then we make an example. Arrest Pemberton. Disband the league."
"And create a martyr?" Theron shook his head. "Pemberton is not Vesper. He’s respected. Beloved, even. If we crush him, we lose the moderates."
"So we do nothing?"
"We do *something*. Just not that."
Seren walked through the corridors that night.
The palace was quiet, but tension hung in the air like smoke. Guards patrolled in pairs. Servants hurried past with their eyes down.
She found Pemberton in the chapel.
He knelt before the altar, his head bowed. The white ribbon of the league was pinned to his coat.
"I didn’t expect to find you here," Seren said.
He didn’t look up. "I come here when I’m troubled. My mother brought me as a child."
"The league troubles you?"
"The league *is* me. My fears. My doubts. My love for my people." He finally looked at her. "I don’t want to be your enemy, Your Majesty."
"Then don’t be."
"It’s not that simple. The wolves following me are not evil. They’re *scared*. They see the institute, and they see themselves becoming irrelevant. Becoming like the humans they once ruled."
Seren sat beside him. "I was human. I remember what it felt like to be ruled. To be invisible."
"I know."
"That’s not a threat to you. That’s a *bridge*. The institute is not about replacing wolves. It’s about giving humans choices. The same choices wolves have always had."
Pemberton was silent.
"I can’t disband the league," Seren said. "Not without violence. But I can ask you to lead it differently. To focus on dialogue, not destruction. To work *with* the institute, not against it."
"You’re asking me to compromise."
"I’m asking you to act as a leader."
The next morning, Pemberton addressed the league.
He stood in the same great hall where he had founded it, but his tone was different. Softer. More uncertain.
"We are not enemies of the crown," he said. "We are not enemies of the institute. We are wolves who love our heritage and fear for our future."
He looked at the assembled members.
"But fear without dialogue is poison. So I am asking; *ordering*—that we pursue our goals peacefully. No more fights. No more intimidation. We will speak. We will protest. We will not raise our hands."
Murmurs of discontent rippled through the crowd. But no one left.
The league remained. But the violence stopped.
Seren watched from the gallery.
*Progress,* she thought. *Not victory. Not peace. Just... progress.*
She would take it.
She walked back to her chambers, where her mates were waiting.
