Chapter 3:
“If we don’t show strength, we’ll be seen as weak. And weakness invites attack.”
The Alpha had intervened then, his tone as cold as the winter wind.
“Enough, Dante. This isn’t a challenge for dominance. We make decisions as a pack, not through force.”
The sting of his words lingered long after the meeting. I had thought I was fighting for the pack’s future, but to them, I was challenging the very foundation of our unity.
Through it all, Elara had been my anchor. Where the council saw recklessness, she saw potential. Where others doubted me, she believed. Her unwavering trust had been a lifeline, but it had also made leaving all the harder.
I remembered one night vividly—long before the council’s final decision—when we had walked together under the light of the full moon. The tension in the pack had already begun to weigh on me, but Elara’s presence was a balm.
“You’re not reckless,” she had said, her voice steady.
“You see things others can’t. You challenge them because you want more for the pack, not because you want to tear it apart.”
Her words had touched something deep within me, a place I rarely let myself explore. But even then, doubt whispered in the back of my mind.
“And what if they’re right?” I’d asked her.
“What if I’m too much for this pack?”
Her hand had brushed against mine, a fleeting touch that carried more reassurance than words ever could.
“You’re not too much, Dante. They’re just not enough to see it.”
I had wanted to believe her, but as the days wore on, the weight of the council’s distrust only grew heavier.
The night I was banished, I felt every emotion at once—anger, regret, shame, and a bitterness I couldn’t fully explain. The Alpha had spoken with finality, his words leaving no room for argument.
“You’re too wild, Dante,” he had said, his eyes cold.
“Your ambition blinds you to what this pack needs. You’re a threat to its stability.”
I had packed my belongings in silence, the sting of rejection overshadowing everything else. But as I stood in the clearing, preparing to leave, Elara found me.
“Dante,” she said, her voice trembling.
“What happened? Why are they forcing you to leave?”
Her gaze searched mine, desperate for answers, but I couldn’t find the words. How could I tell her the truth? That I wasn’t sure if I was leaving for the pack’s sake or my own pride?
“Elara, this isn’t my place anymore,” I said finally, my voice heavy.
Her eyes flared with anger, her emotions spilling out in a way I rarely saw.
“That’s not true, and you know it. You belong here. The pack needs you. I need you.”
Her words struck deeper than any blow. For a moment, I wavered. The thought of staying, of fighting for the pack and for her, tugged at me like a lifeline. But the council’s judgment echoed in my mind: Too wild. Too dangerous. If I stayed, I would only deepen the divisions.
“I have to go,” I said, my throat tight.
“If I stay, I’ll tear this pack apart.”
Her hand reached out, brushing against my arm, and the raw ache in her voice nearly broke me.
“And what about us? Am I not enough to make you stay?”
I wanted to tell her the truth—that she was everything to me, that leaving her felt like ripping away a piece of my soul. But my pride wouldn’t let me. My loyalty wouldn’t allow it.
“You’ll understand someday,” I said, forcing the words out.
“I’m doing this for you. For the pack.”
