The Witch and Her Four Dangerous Alphas

Aeron's POV

The candlelight flickered gently across the edges of the parchment as I dipped the quill once more, letting the black ink soak into the paper with practiced grace. My strokes were steady and Precise. Every curve of each letter carried the exact tone I wanted: respectful, polished and grateful.

"To Alpha Rhys of the Black Ridge," I wrote, "Your words of goodwill have reached us at a most meaningful time. We are honored by your acknowledgment of the Silver Dawn Pack's return to its rightful place, and we warmly extend an invitation to our formal coronation five days hence…"

My lips tightened slightly as I signed the name at the bottom—my own, Aeron Duskdraven, First Alpha of the restored Silver Dawn.

It was the third such letter I'd written this morning. All with nearly the same meaningless flattery in different packaging. The same alphas who now lined up to grovel at our feet had once praised Alpha Eirik like he was the moon incarnate.

I still remembered the letters they sent him after our father's death. Congratulating him on his new union. Cloaked with lies. Empty words written with grinning jaws still wet from blood.

The same alphas who turned their heads when we cried for justice. The same ones who whispered behind closed doors that perhaps we had deserved it.

And now they came to us with praises and invitations and hollow friendship.

It was disgusting. But I responded to every one of them.

Because politics demanded patience.

And power demanded polish.

With Crimson Fang crushed and merged, our combined territory made Silver Dawn one of the largest and most resource-rich packs in the northern territories. That kind of status drew vultures disguised as allies. Everyone wanted to be close to the throne now.

So I wrote them back.

Not because I trusted them. Not because I respected them.

But because survival required more than brute strength. It required diplomacy. Appearances. Strategic tolerance.

I knew this game.

Smile. Thank them. Pretend their words had meaning.

I set the letter aside, its contents already fading from my mind, and dipped the quill into ink once more. But before I could begin the next response, the door creaked open behind me.

I didn't need to turn to know who it was. I recognized the scent before the footsteps crossed the threshold. My beta—Cyrus.

He was quiet, composed, but his hesitation betrayed him.

"You're late," I said without looking up.

"I know, Alpha." His voice was low, cautious. "I waited until things settled before coming."

He stood at the edge of the study, just inside the door, as if unsure whether to step further. That alone told me he wasn't here for routine updates.

"Then speak."

I continued sealing the final scroll, letting the silence press down until he gathered the courage to approach.

Cyrus stepped forward slowly and sat on the edge of the chair opposite mine. He adjusted his jacket, cleared his throat once, twice. His fingers tapped the armrest before he caught himself and clenched them into fists.

"It's about the incident today," he began. "With your brothers. And Selene"

I set the quill down at last and met his gaze. I didn't blink.

He squirmed under the weight of my stare.

"I followed your instructions," he continued. "Kept a close eye on them. Lucian, especially. You were right… something's changing. Today, there was a scene in the servants' quarters. It began after Selene was seen leaving Lucian's private chambers."

That made him pause again, gauging my reaction.

I gave him none.

He pressed on. "It seems an omega maid deliberately sent Selena to clean Lucian's room. She wasn't supposed to be there, but she went. She followed orders like always. The maid was hoping Lucian would catch her and—well—punish her."

A flicker of emotion crossed his face then. Disgust? Guilt? Maybe both.

"But Lucian didn't punish her. He… let her go."

I arched one brow, but said nothing.

"She returned to the corridor after cleaning. The maid who sent her was waiting and furious that she hadn't been hurt. She started questioning her, yelling at her. Selena tried to explain. She said she was ordered to go—but the maid struck her. Or tried to."

"She tried to hit her?" I asked, voice flat.

Cyrus nodded quickly. "Selena caught her wrist. She didn't strike back. Not at first. She just… stopped the blow. But the head maid was already coming. The younger maid lied and claimed Selena had gone into Lucian's chambers on her own. That she was trying to seduce him."

I exhaled slowly. The lie was predictable and pathetic.

"And?"

"She was dragged into the courtyard by several servants for public punishment. But something snapped, Alpha. She kept trying to explain, but no one listened. I think… I think she realized she wasn't going to be spared. That no matter how quiet she was, how obedient, they'd still come for her. And she—she fought back."

Cyrus looked away for a second, as if trying to collect the memory.

"She fought them, Alpha. Fought hard. The head maid first. Then others who joined in. She didn't use her wolf—she can't. But she's fast, brutal, precise. Like she's been holding it in for years. It wasn't just defense. It was rage. It was… days of buried humiliation unleashed in one blow."

He shifted in his seat, clearly unnerved.

"I watched the whole thing. From the shadows. You told me not to interfere unless it was necessary. So I didn't. But she… she bested them all. Beat the head maid bloody. And before anyone could respond, Luca arrived."

Cyrus's gaze drifted to the window briefly.

"He was furious. Dragged her away himself. But even as she kicked and screamed and cursed us all to the Moon Goddess, she didn't stop. I've never seen someone look at him like that. Not even our enemies on the battlefield."

He went quiet after that, waiting.

I stared at him, the silence stretching until he grew restless again. He shifted, rubbed his palms on his thighs.

He shook his head.

I didn't respond.

Cyrus studied me, nervousness returning. "Do you… want me to continue? Or should I step back?"

I finally leaned back in my chair, folding my hands neatly.

"Continue watching."

Cyrus blinked. "Even now?"

"Especially now."

He nodded slowly, then stood. "Of course, Alpha."

He walked toward the door but hesitated again.

"If I may… what do you think of her?"

I looked back at the sealed scroll. The wax still gleamed.

"I think she's not what they believe her to be," I said, voice quiet. "But that doesn't make her less dangerous."

That answer seemed to unsettle him more than if I'd said nothing.

"Understood."