Kael Ashford, in a tailored silver-gray tunic that emphasized his height and lean build. Every strand of dark hair perfectly groomed. His eyes carried the sharp confidence of youth—edged with something lazier. Almost arrogant.
He held a leather-bound ledger in one hand.
"Alpha Blackthorn."
His voice was clear, all formality.
"Beta-Consort Frostveil asked me to deliver this season's tribute reward list for your seal."
He walked to my desk and set the ledger down.
No pleasantries. No move to withdraw. He simply stood there, waiting.
Posture perfect. But his gaze drifted past my face to the ancestral tapestries behind me, as if this were nothing more than a trivial errand.
I looked up at him.
He didn't flinch. He even smiled—a smile with something unreadable beneath it.
Normally, when Selene sent documents like this—or had her attendant bring them—I'd glance at the totals and press my signet ring to the page. She managed the pack stores and tribute flow. I'd always granted her that authority.
But today, I picked up the ledger. Opened it.
Page by page, I went through the list. Tribute rewards ranged from modest silver portions to generous hunting allotments—consistent with this season's contributions.
Then I reached the last page.
My hand stopped.
Next to Kael Ashford's name was a staggering allocation.
Season's tribute reward: One thousand silver marks.
And in the remarks column, a single line: Plus one prestige patrol mount and prime den quarters.
One thousand silver marks. An elite mount. Private chambers fit for a ranked wolf.
For an Omega Liaison who'd served less than six moon-cycles.
My eyes lingered on those figures for two heartbeats. Then I looked up.
Kael was watching me. That faint smile had deepened, and something flickered in his gaze—impatience.
"Alpha Blackthorn, is there a problem?"
His tone stayed respectful. But there was an edge now.
A challenge.
"The Beta-Consort is... waiting to head out."
He made a point of emphasizing those last two words.
I reached for the obsidian quill resting on my desk and lifted it from its holder.
The sharpened tip hovered over the blood-seal line. It didn't come down.
"Kael, you've served in this den for almost five moon cycles now, haven't you?"
My voice was steady. Unreadable.
"One week shy of five cycles."
His answer came quick and easy.
I said nothing more. I signed, pressing my thumb to the wax to seal it with my Alpha mark.