chapter forty one
The oak doors of the study swung open with a finality that echoed through the cavernous dining room. All eyes turned towards the entrance, anticipation hanging heavy in the air. King Aaron emerged first, his face an unreadable mask. Behind him came Damian and Alexander, their expressions offering little in the way of explanation.
As they approached, King Aaron spoke, his voice devoid of warmth. "Ronald," he began, addressing my father directly, "please understand that for us to build a truly strong alliance, I need… control of your forces."
His words hit me like a physical blow. Control of the Brooks pack? I stole a glance at my father, his jaw clenching tight with suppressed anger.
"With all due respect, Your Majesty," Samuel interjected sharply, his voice laced with indignation, "the Brooks pack has always been fiercely independent. While we are willing to fight alongside you in times of need, we have no desire to become subjects under a monarchy."