#Chapter 110: Pushback
(Siena POV)
The scent of fresh pine from the forest beyond my window mingles with the lingering aroma of herbal tea gone cold in a forgotten mug. My eyes burn from lack of sleep, but my mind refuses to rest, spinning endlessly over the revelations of the past two days
I press my fingertips against my temples, trying to ease the throbbing pain that’s taken up residence there
On the desk before me sits the folder containing the Northern Territory records–the official account of Zion’s diplomatic failure, neatly packaged and strategically released by Raiden to maximum effect.
Beside it lie my own hastily gathered notes from interviews with settlement residents who lived through the Silver Pack conflict, their perspectives adding dimensions to a story Raiden presented as a simple fact.
I hate him for this. For this, for everything. Every move against me has been deliberate. He is a dangerous wolf.
Outside my window, the settlement is waking.
The metallic clang of the cooking pots in the communal kitchen, children’s voices as they gather for morning lessons, the rhythmic chopping of firewood–ordinary sounds that somehow ground me amidst the political storm swirling around us all.
A soft knock at my door interrupts my thoughts. I straighten, running fingers through tangled copper hair in a futile attempt to look less like someone who’s spent the night surrounded by diplomatic records instead of sleeping.
“Enter,” I call, my voice rough from disuse.
Rairity steps inside, her round face creased with concern. She carries a tray with fresh tea and warm bread, the steam rising in fragrant curls that make my empty stomach clench with sudden hunger.
“You need to eat, Luna,” she says, setting the tray down on the one corner of my desk not covered in papers. The scent of cinnamon and honey wafts upward, momentarily cutting through the tension headache pounding behind my eyes.
“Thank you.” I manage a small smile, genuinely grateful for her steady presence in this chaos. “Any word from the council?”
Rairity’s expression tightens. “They’re meeting now. Elder Santos called an emergency session to ‘discuss the implications of recent revelations regarding settlement leadership.”
The diplomatic phrasing doesn’t disguise the reality–Raiden is consolidating his advantage, using Zion’s past to undermine not just our personal connection but the entire settlement operation.
“And the settlement residents?”
“Confused. Worried.” Rairity hesitates, her eyes dropping to the scattered papers. “Some are talking about whether they should leave before things get worse. They remember what happened the last time they trusted leadership that failed them.”
I set the bread down, suddenly unable to swallow past the tightness in my throat.
Everything I’ve built–the trust, the community, the refuge for those who had nowhere else to go–all of it threatened by Raiden’s calculated attack.
“What about Zion?”
“He’s at the eastern boundary. Alone. He hasn’t spoken to anyone since yesterday.”
The image forms–Zion standing solitary at the territory’s edge, silver hair catching the morning light, his usual confident bearing replaced by the weight of a past mistake now used as a weapon against him.
Against us.
The memory of our confrontation yesterday burns fresh in my mind–his face when I accused him of hiding the truth, the pain in his eyes when I walked away.
“I need to address everyone,” I say suddenly, rising from my chair with newfound purpose. “Not just the council, not just the settlement residents. The entire pack.”
Rairity eyes widen. “Luna, the Alpha hasn’t authorized-”
“I don’t need Raiden’s permission to speak to my people!” The wolf inside me stirs, responding to the conviction in my voice. “Prepare the gathering grounds. I’ll speak at midday when everyone can attend.”
For a moment, Rairity looks as though she migh concern. “Yes, Luna.”
Successfully unlocked!xpression shifts, determination replacing
After she leaves, I stand before the small mirror hanging on my wall, taking stock of what the pack will see.
The cold water in my washing basin shocks my system awake as I splash it over my face. Drops cling to my lashes, refracting the morning light as I stare at my reflection.
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“No more reacting,” I tell the woman in the mirror. “No more letting Raiden dictate the terms of this fight.”
Siena of Windhowl Pack, you are free.
My heart pounds against my ribs as I count at least two hundred pack members already seated, with more arriving each minute.
Council members cluster near the front, their formal robes setting them apart from the general population. Elder Santos watches me with narrowed eyes, his ceremonial staff gripped tightly as if preparing to invoke some ancient protocol to
stop me.
A ripple moves through the crowd, heads turning toward the northern path.
Raiden approaches, his powerful frame unmistakable even at a distance.
He moves with the confident grace of an Alpha, pack members instinctively shifting to clear his path.
His eyes find mine across the distance, the challenge in them clear.
I don’t look away.
If he wants a fight, well then, I will give him one.
Conversation dies away as I approach the speaking stone–an ancient granite boulder worn smooth by generations of pack leaders who have stood upon it to address their people.
From this vantage point, I can see every face turned toward me–the council members with their barely concealed disapproval, the settlement residents clustered together for safety, the general pack population curious and uncertain.
At the very back, a flash of silver hair catches my eye–Zion, standing apart from the crowd, his expression unreadable at this distance.
I take a deep breath, “I stand before you today not just as your Luna, but as someone who has made a promise to protect those in need.”
The traditional opening acknowledgment of the Alpha is conspicuously absent. I feel Raiden’s anger spike through our bond but continue without pause.
“Two days ago, information was strategically released about Zion’s past–a diplomatic failure that contributed to the Silver Päck conflict five years ago.
Murmurs ripple through the crowd. I raise my hand, waiting for silence before continuing.
“This information was presented without context, without nuance, and with clear intent to undermine not just Zion’s position but the entire settlement operation that has provided refuge to those displaced by that very conflict.”
They are silent, but I have their attention.
“I have spent the past two nights researching what actually happened during those negotiations. I’ve spoken with refugees who lived through the conflict. I’ve reviewed the complete diplomatic record—not just the selected portions that were circulated.”
I withdraw a rolled parchment from my sleeve, holding it up for all to see.
“What I discovered is not a simple story of failure, but a complex diplomatic situation where multiple factors led to conflict. Yes, Zion made mistakes in his assessment of Silver Pack intentions. Yes, he bears some responsibility for not recognizing warning signs earlier.”
My eyes find Zion in the crowd. His shoulders are squared, facing the public reckoning without flinching.
“But what the selective information released by our Alpha failed to mention was that Zion was acting under direct orders from his then–Alpha to maintain peace at all costs–orders that limited his options and his ability to respond when the situation deteriorated.”
Raiden steps forward, his voice cutting through the murmurs that have risen again. “This is not an authorized council session, and the Luna has no authority to reinterpret diplomatic records-*
“I have every authority to speak truth to my pack,” I interrupt, my voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through my veins. “Unless the Alpha wishes to silence his Luna before the entire pack formally?”
The challenge hangs in the air.
Raiden’s eyes narrow, but he steps back. He knows as well as I do that publicly silencing me would create exactly the kind of division within the pack that he claims to be preventing with his security protocols.
“The settlement exists because we recognized our responsibility to those displaced by conflict–including conflict where our own pack’s actions and inactions played a role.”
I sweep my gaze across the gathered faces, letting them feel the weight of collective responsibility. “We don’t get to
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dismiss that obligation because it’s politically convenient or because it challenges traditional authority structures”
The air itself seems to vibrate. There’s no stopping now.
“I’ve been asked why I didn’t know about Zion’s past. The truth is simpler than the rumors suggest. I never asked. I judged him by his actions in the present–by his consistent support for those in need, by his willingness to risk his position to stand for what’s right.”
“We all have failures in our past. Moments where our judgment faltered, where we trusted wrongly or missed crucial signs.”
I unroll the parchment in my hands, holding it up for all to see.
“This is a petition signed by every resident of the settlement. It calls for immediate review of the security protocols by a neutral third party.”
Elder Santos rises from his seat, ceremonial staff striking the ground with authority. “Such review would require council approval, which has not been granted.”
“Actually, Elder,” I respond, keeping my voice respectful despite the challenge, “pack law specifically provides for Luna petition on behalf of vulnerable populations when their welfare is threatened by protocol implementation.”
Santos’s look of surprise confirms that he never expected me to know such legal details. I allow myself a brief moment of satisfaction before continuing.
“I’ve already dispatched messengers to our neighboring allies requesting neutral observers. They should arrive within three days.”
“You’ve involved external authorities without Alpha approval-”
“I’ve involved neutral observers to ensure our pack’s most vulnerable members aren’t sacrificed to internal power struggles.”
The trap is laid.
R
