Crowned by Fate Chapter 94

Leon's POV

"Did you hear?" Ethan burst into my office, his breathing labored as if he'd run the entire way from his quarters.

I set down the financial report I'd been reviewing and raised an eyebrow at his flustered state. "Hear what? And why are you rushing around like a startled deer?"

"Alpha Adrian of Oasisborn Pack has killed Alpha Kane!" Ethan blurted out, his eyes wide with excitement. "Kane of Gravestone Pack is dead!"

I leaned back in my leather chair, unimpressed. "Two irrelevant western packs fighting amongst themselves. What does that matter to us?"

"That's not all," Ethan pressed on, moving closer to my desk. "I also heard that Oasisborn Pack has dissolved the entire Gravestone Pack and absorbed their territory."

Now that made me pause. My fingers stilled on the report's edge as I looked up at him properly. The complete dissolution of an established pack was rare—unprecedented, even.

Typically, when an Alpha was killed, the pack would quickly elect a new leader and continue operations. For an entire pack to be dissolved and erased from existence... that spoke of something beyond a simple territorial dispute.

"Oasisborn," I mused, the name triggering an unwelcome memory. "That's the pack your sister joined, isn't it?"

Ethan's expression shifted, uncomfortable. "Yes, Alpha. She's still there, as far as I know."

"Has she responded to any of your messages since her last letter?" I asked, though I already suspected the answer.

"No," he admitted, his shoulders slumping slightly. "I tried to convince her to come home after she first wrote to tell us about joining them, but she never replied. It's been months now."

Anger flared in my chest, hot and immediate. "Since she's made her choice, stop trying to bring her back!" I snapped, my voice carrying enough force to make Ethan step back. "I don't want to hear another word about your sister's juvenile rebellion."

"I know Skye can be stubborn and... childish," Ethan said carefully, his tone apologetic. "I thought maybe after four years away, she might have matured. If you asked her to return, perhaps she would listen to you—"

I cut him off with a harsh laugh. "She left without permission, joined another pack without consulting anyone, and now you expect me to beg for her return?" The very suggestion was insulting. "If she wants to play at independence, let her face the consequences alone."

Ethan lowered his head, reading the finality in my tone. He mumbled something about getting back to training and quickly retreated from my office.

After he left, I tried to focus on the financial reports, but the mention of Oasisborn and that Alpha Adrian kept gnawing at my concentration.

Six months until the Alpha King election. I needed to stay informed about potential competitors, regardless of how insignificant they might seem.

I opened my laptop and navigated to the candidate database I'd been monitoring. Several familiar names populated the list:

Alpha Maxwell of Stormhowl Pack—ruthless, experienced, and politically savvy. He'd been consolidating power for years, no doubt preparing for this very election.

Alpha Xavier of Silverscreen Pack in Los Angeles—young, charismatic, media-trained. His Hollywood-inspired PR team had transformed him into something like a werewolf celebrity, appealing especially to younger pack members across the continent.

Alpha Rodrigo of Ironwater Pack from the Gulf Coast—ancient bloodline, vast resources, traditional power base. His territory included several major ports, giving him significant economic influence.

Alpha Morgan of Cascade Pack from the Pacific Northwest—leveraging her female identity to unite female werewolves across the continent. She'd built a massive support base by advocating for female rights and welfare. Though her supporters were predominantly Omegas with limited combat abilities, they made up for it in sheer numbers.

I scrolled to the bottom of the list, noting that another name had been added since I'd last checked. My blood went cold when I saw it:

Alpha Adrian, Oasisborn Pack, Western Territories

I clicked on his profile, and a photograph loaded. Strong jawline shadowed with dark stubble, hair the color of midnight, amber eyes that seemed to burn even through the digital image. He was undeniably handsome in a rugged, dangerous way that would probably appeal to certain demographics.

My laptop screen went dark with a forceful snap as I slammed it shut.

How dare he?

This nobody from nowhere, leading a pack so insignificant I hadn't even heard its name until today, thought he could compete at this level?

Was this why Skye had joined his pack? Had she been swayed by a pretty face and empty promises? The thought made my jaw clench painfully.

He thought killing one minor Alpha and absorbing a failing pack gave him the credentials to lead all North American werewolves? The arrogance was staggering.

I stood abruptly, pacing to the window that overlooked Frostshadow's pristine territory. Generations of strong leadership had built this empire, and I'd been preparing to expand it further as Alpha King. Every decision I'd made, every alliance I'd forged, every sacrifice I'd endured—all of it pointed toward that ultimate goal.

And now some upstart from Texas thought he could challenge me?

Fine.

I would demonstrate exactly what happened when insignificant wolves overstepped their boundaries. By the end of the first week of campaigning, this Adrian would understand his place in the hierarchy. He'd withdraw his candidacy before the real competition even began.

I returned to my desk, pulling out my phone to make the first of several calls. If Adrian wanted to play in the big leagues, he'd learn that power wasn't just about territory or military strength.

Politics required connections, resources, and influence that took years to cultivate.

And I had all three in abundance.