Chapter 2

Florence Barnes POV:

Conor stopped tapping the mahogany armrest and rose slowly to his feet. His 189-centimeter frame cast a suffocating shadow over me, sucking the remaining oxygen right out of the sanctuary.

He looked down at me from his towering height, his slate-blue eyes devoid of anger, filled instead with the dark, calculating scrutiny of an apex predator sizing up its prey.

Carie was the first to break the silence, her voice pitching into a shrill scream.

"You've gone mad! You shameless Omega, how dare you set your sights on the Supreme Alpha!"

Several Elders jumped up from their pews as well, barking harsh accusations that I was trampling on the sacred hierarchy of the Shadow Claw Pack. My calves trembled under the weight of the room's hostility, so I bit down hard on the inside of my lower lip until I tasted copper, refusing to take a single step back.

A low, cold chuckle rumbled from Conor's chest. It wasn't loud, yet every shouting Elder and collateral relative snapped their mouths shut at once as if an invisible hand had choked them.

"A father pays his son's debts?"

Conor took a long stride forward, closing the distance between us until his overwhelming male heat and his signature scent of crisp cedarwood wrapped around me completely. Stopping less than half a meter away, he leaned down slightly, his deep voice vibrating against my eardrums.

"Florence, are you quite certain you know who you are provoking?"

I tilted my head back to meet his chilling gaze head-on.

"I only know that an Alpha of the Campbell family never cowers from responsibility. Or does the Supreme Alpha lack the nerve to clean up the mess his own adopted son left behind?"

Up on the obsidian altar, Dorthy suddenly let out a hearty laugh and tapped her cane against the stone.

"Conor, the girl has a point. Corbin disgraced our pack's name. As his father, you do owe the Barnes family an explanation."

Carie whipped her head toward her mother-in-law in disbelief, her voice rising eight octaves.

"Dorthy! Conor is our Supreme Alpha! How could he possibly marry secondhand goods cast aside by his own son?"

Conor's eyes turned to ice. Without even turning his head, he gave a single command: "Silence."

With that low bark, the physical force of an Alpha's Command slammed through the hall like a shockwave. No lower-ranked wolf within the same Pack could physically resist an Alpha's Command, a biological law that only failed against outsiders or higher bloodlines. Carie's face drained of all color, her knees buckled, and she collapsed hard onto her chair, unable to make another sound.

Watching the usually arrogant first-branch wife slump in utter humiliation sent a rush of fierce satisfaction through my chest. So this was what absolute power tasted like.

Conor returned his gaze to me, his eyes flicking down to my white knuckles before he reached out and brushed his rough thumb across my tight jawline. A sharp tingle shot across my skin. Every instinct screamed at me to flinch away, yet I forced myself to stand still beneath his touch.

"You want to be my Luna?"

He lowered his voice so only the two of us could hear.

"That throne isn't easy to sit on. It can tear you to pieces at any moment."

I held his gaze without blinking.

"So long as you dare to give it, I dare to keep it. The value I bring will far outweigh that runaway fool."

Conor studied me for a long moment before withdrawing his hand. Turning to face the silent crowd, his expression hardened into absolute authority.

"Since the Barnes family demands the fulfillment of the pact, the Shadow Claw Pack never defaults on a debt."

Gasps echoed across the pews as the unmarried, iron-fisted Chief Magistrate unbuttoned his suit jacket with casual grace and walked toward the altar.

"What are you standing around for? Prepare the Blood Oath."

The officiating priest jolted and scrambled to fetch a ceremonial silver tray, only for Conor's voice to lash out like a whip.

"Get that disgusting silver out of my sight."

A dangerous shadow crossed Conor's face as the faint, jagged scar along the side of his neck seemed to throb.

"Use the obsidian dagger."

I noted his violent aversion to silver—the only substance in existence capable of burning werewolf flesh and destroying our inner wolves—remembering the rumors of an old injury he had suffered years ago.

Dorthy smiled with satisfaction and swept her gaze over the guests.

"From this day forward, Florence Barnes is the Luna of the Shadow Claw Pack."

Under Conor's crushing aura, every guest in the hall bowed their heads in submission to their new matriarch. Exhaling a slow breath, I watched Conor turn back toward me and extend his broad, calloused palm.