Chapter 709: Princess’s Personal Distraction Squad

"Sure, they did," Hollowcrown replied. "I don’t care who sent her. Every man in this room who has a mate would agree that a female of her size should not go against an Alpha. You know that. I know that. This room knows that. You have the authority to withdraw her. Withdraw her, Beta. I will respect your rank over her wishes, and this ends without blood."

Beta Sharpe’s lips twitched into a ghost of a smile.

"I should warn you, Alpha Hollowcrown, that woman singlehandedly took down an entire dragon army last night. Every soldier and warrior in Shadowclaw answers to her. I report to the woman in that chair. Not the other way around. She made her decision. I respect it. The mercy is mine to offer, Alpha Hollowcrown. And I am offering it now. Are you sure?"

"Bullshit," Hollowcrown fired back. "A dragon army. By herself. That is a convenient story from a convenient delegation selling a convenient narrative."

"I have seen her ride dragons, Hollowcrown. Half of this table has. I would take him at his word," Garrett Darkhowler said.

"Sure. Drakenfell has dragons, Darkhowler. Everyone knows that." Hollowcrown shook his head. "It doesn’t change the fact that I am an Alpha and the best fighter in Hollowcrown."

Elder Voss spoke for the first time. Every head turned towards him. "She took down an entire army, Alpha Hollowcrown. There is no exaggeration with that. I would advise not going against her."

The silence after Voss was different from every silence that had preceded it. An elder from Shadowclaw’s own council, a man with no reason to exaggerate and every reason to be cautious, had just told the room he would not want to fight her. The room processed this.

Nightspire’s jaw tightened by a fraction. It was the only movement he had made in five minutes, and it said more than a speech.

On the opposite side of the table, Tiberon’s gaze flicked to Voss briefly then to Aeron because this was all new information.

Hollowcrown turned his attention to Tiberon.

"I am offering you a courtesy, Drakenfell. As a father. As a king. Order her to stand down. I will respect it. Surely you don’t want to see your son’s mate die."

Tiberon held Hollowcrown’s gaze for three seconds. The seconds were not hesitation. They were the interval a king allows before delivering a response he wants the room to remember.

"That woman told this table she represents Shadowclaw. I believed her. If you are asking me to overrule a sovereign in her own chair, you are asking me to do something I would not do to any Alpha at this table, and I will not do it to her. I do not command Shadowclaw’s sovereign. No one at this table does. That is the point of this."

The room went still.

Moonrend tapped the armrest of his chair. "She made her decision, Hollowcrown. You made yours. This stopped being a debate the moment she said yes faster than you said challenge. Get on with it."

"So be it." Hollowcrown rolled his neck once before standing, which told Serena he would lunge in wolf form. Top-heavy wolves always lunged.

Serena’s eyes met Tiberon’s across the table. His eyebrow moved a millimeter which translated to: do not lose.

The remaining Alphas stood and climbed to their pews. The movement was orderly, automatic, kings returning to their people the way generals return to their command posts before a battle they didn’t start but intended to watch closely.

Tiberon sat. Looked left. His son was vibrating. Looked right past Hyran. His Gamma was glowing. Looked at Hyran. Hyran was holding one of each like a man gripping two leashes attached to two dogs who had spotted the same squirrel.

The table folded into the floor. Ancient engineering. The stone panels parted, received it, and closed with the practiced efficiency of a building that had seen enough arguments end this way to automate the transition.

Serena would have appreciated it more because that was very cool but she was busy assessing Hollowcrown.

Sword on the left hip. That meant right-handed.

Dexmon: What the hell are you doing.

Serena didn’t answer. Hollow crown had neck tension on the left side. Natural stance wide. He liked power over speed. Typical Alpha. His right foot was angled out by ten degrees. Compensating for rotation in the hip or the ankle.

Gavriel: Serena, let me fill your pink magic. Right now. Let me for three seconds.

Dexmon: Serena, answer. Now.

Serena: If I glow green in front of this room, every mage in here will know I needed help before a challenge.

Gavriel: You ARE NOT FULL. He is. That is the POINT.

Serena: You both realize I can light this man on fire, right?

Gavriel: Serena, you will be showing too many of your abilities. You don’t like that. I don’t like that. Dexmon sure as hell doesn’t like that.

Serena: This room has already seen them. If they have a problem, then let them come.

That landed. It landed on both of them. Then Gavriel’s green flickered once and Hyran’s hand landed on his forearm like a clamp while his other hand went on Dexmon’s knee because it was now jackhammering against the pew.

Dexmon: Why the hell didn’t you inform us Shadowclaw was attacked? Where is Finnick?

Serena: I need to focus. I will speak with you both after this. I don’t want either of you to worry. Please leave the chamber and I will mindlink you when I am finished.

Silence.

Gavriel: I’m sorry, what? In what world would that mindlink go over well? None. Serena, this is stupid. Let me fucking fill your damn magic. And I will be intervening if this goes south.

His breathing had become audible again like he was giving birth. Hale at the end of the row was pretending to be deaf. Tiberon glanced over at his Gamma, then also faced forward, pretending to be deaf.

Dexmon: Serena, listen to me. You are injured. You are depleted. You are about to step onto a floor with an Alpha wolf. I’ve seen this man fight. Take the damn magic.

Serena: I don’t need full reserves to beat him. I need focus. And right now, both of you are the opposite of focus.

Dexmon: The opposite of—

Gavriel: Did YOU just call us a distraction?

Serena: I need you both to leave the room.

Gavriel: No.

Dexmon: Yeah, no. Not happening. We’re staying.

Serena shoved calm into both of them.

Warm. Calm. Peaceful. Every muscle in Dexmon’s body unclenched at once. He almost sighed.

Next to him the calm hit Gavriel like a tranquilizer dart. He felt good. He felt—fuck. Like she had just matebond roofied his emotions.

Anger volcanoed back into Serena, from two separate matebonds communicating exactly how much they appreciated the calm from her.