Page 23 of Finding Forever with the Alpha Pack (Return to Wolf Creek #4)

Chapter 23

Griffin

Gracie’s barely a month along, but the swell of her stomach is already visible beneath her shirt. Triplets. The knowledge of it still makes my chest tighten with equal parts pride and anxiety. She’s been pushing herself harder than I’d like, but she’s determined to get this meeting over with before she’s unable to shift altogether.

It’s half past noon, and the Alphas and what’s left of the elders file into the alpha house. Nicolai’s idea to build the main house so far away from the pack house was genius. Out here on my land, no one’s tempted to drop in unexpectedly, claiming it’s for “business.” No, the only reason to come out here is to talk to us, and today, we’re talking about the future of the packs.

Both our moms bustle in and out, setting up trays of food along the far wall. More for Grace than for anyone else. They know she’s been struggling with nausea, but it’s not the food itself—it’s the smell of it cooking. We learned the hard way that the scent of eggs or meat sizzling in the house sends her running for the nearest bathroom. Eating it doesn’t bother her, but preparing it? It’s like someone lit a match under a powder keg. The only person seriously affected by the no-eggs-in-the-house rule is Ethan. He’s taken to sneaking off to make himself breakfast when Grace is upstairs or far enough away to avoid the smell.

No sooner are the trays set up than Gracie’s already making herself a plate, grinning as she nudges Conrad to carry it for her. Typical. She has me, Ethan, and Nicolai on high alert, positioned strategically around the room as her self-appointed guards. I catch the anxious flick of her gaze, the tension in her shoulders that hasn’t eased since the first scent of the visitors reached our front door.

Ambrose is the first to arrive, as usual. His grin stretches ear to ear, the kind that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners. He doesn’t even bother with a greeting, tapping his nose and winking. “Congratulations are in order.”

Grace blushes, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “Thank you, Ambrose.” She rests a hand lightly on her stomach, and I watch his eyebrows draw together in a mix of curiosity and confusion.

“How far along?” He leans in to kiss her temple but stops himself short, remembering all too well the last time he got too close to her while she was pregnant. Nic and Ethan almost took his head off.

Grace takes a deep breath, the sound carrying in the tense silence of the room, then lets out a hearty laugh. “A month. Silly pups…” She tilts her head, waiting for him to catch on.

“A month?” Ambrose’s eyes widen. He does a double take, looking at her belly as if it’s grown in the last few seconds.

“Yeah.” She sidles up to me, leaning against my side just as Ethan hands her a chicken wing. He’s got this system down—one wing at a time, always keeping her hands free so she can keep her balance.

“Only two more left to go, then.” Ambrose forces a smile, but I see it falter when he glances up at me, then back at Ethan. His gaze darts nervously between us, like he’s trying to piece something together that’s eluding him.

“Triplets…” I fill in the blanks, watching his brain short-circuit. It’s almost comical how slowly the realization dawns on him.

“Three … Seriously?” His eyes widen to the size of dinner plates as he stares at Grace’s belly. “How…?”

“We won’t know who the father—or fathers—are until they’re born,” Ethan says casually, handing Grace another chicken wing. He’s calm, collected, but I can see the tension in his jaw, the tightness in his shoulders. He’s as on edge as I am.

“I want to sit down.” Grace’s voice cuts through the growing murmur of conversation, and she steps away from all of us, her plate held out like a shield. Ethan is at her side in an instant, hovering close but not touching, his concern evident in every line of his posture.

She makes her way to the bench seat next to Lorcan, easing herself down with a sigh. Every instinct I have screams to be at her side, but I force myself to stay put, scanning the room for any sign of trouble. With so many alphas and elders gathered, the room practically vibrates with power, the air charged and electric.

Ambrose still stands rooted to the spot, looking between me, Ethan, and Grace like we’ve just announced the end of the world. I grit my teeth, forcing myself to take slow, deep breaths. The urge to shift and position myself between Gracie and the rest of them is almost overpowering. I feel my wolf clawing at the edges of my control, demanding I act. Protect.

But I can’t afford to show weakness right now. Not with so much at stake. Grace, meanwhile, leans back against the bench, a small, satisfied smile playing on her lips as she takes a bite of her chicken wing. The sight of her so calm and collected helps settle my wolf, just a little.

I keep my gaze locked on the crowd, every sense heightened, waiting for the slightest sign of a threat. We’ve made it this far, but I know better than to believe it’s over. It’s never over. And with three pups on the way … I tighten my grip on the armrest, jaw clenching. Whatever happens next, I’ll be damned if I let anyone or anything jeopardize our family.

“Let’s call this shindig to order,” Grace announces from her spot between Ethan and Lorcan. The steady confidence in her voice sends a ripple through the gathered wolves, drawing their full attention. Conrad’s already set up a table in front of her, laden with all of her favorite foods—a slight gesture meant to keep her strength up through the long meeting ahead. She glances down at it briefly before refocusing on the crowd. Every pack is represented here, their eyes fixed on her, waiting to hear what she has to say.

I move to stand beside Lorcan on the right, guarding that flank. My presence is a silent warning to anyone who might consider stepping out of line. “Thank you, everyone, for coming out today.” My voice booms across the hall, reverberating off the walls. The low murmur of voices hushes immediately, and all eyes turn to Grace.

She takes that as her cue and rises, using Ethan’s broad shoulders for balance as she stands on the bench. Her gaze sweeps over the gathered wolves, and I can feel the shift in the air as they lean in, hungry for her words. “There have been casualties in each of the packs because of Blake and the rogues that plagued our lands for over a year,” she begins, her voice clear but edged with the weight of loss. Grace takes a deep breath, her eyes meeting mine for a fleeting second before she continues. “Sacrifices were made by all the packs to secure a future for our children.”

A ripple of grief washes over the room, the collective pain palpable. Grace’s eyes scan the sea of faces, lingering on those who’ve lost the most. “We have lost two elders in this uprising. One because he betrayed us all. The other because he was killed in the line of duty.” The silence that follows her words is heavy with unspoken grief and anger.

I see the way she leans on Ethan, her composure wavering. This isn’t easy for her—none of this is. “What my mate is trying to say,” I interject, my voice steady as I step closer, “is that we’re entering a period of rebuilding and growth. It is safe for the smaller packs to be ruled once again by their original alphas, if that is what they want.”

I glimpse Christos and Benjamin—the last surviving elders—leaning against the far wall, their expressions grim as they listen to the meeting. “Under the guidance of the Lunar Wolf, the packs shall know peace from now on,” Benjamin says, his voice carrying a weight that makes the gathered wolves murmur in agreement.

But I see it—the way Grace cringes ever so slightly at his words. The Lunar Wolf is no more. They do not know what she sacrificed to save me, to save all of us. The cheers that erupt around us are deafening, a cacophony of praise directed at Grace for all she’s done. They cheer for the Lunar Wolf, the symbol of unity and strength they’ve known through legends for generations. But she’s gone. In her place stands something fiercer, something forged in the fires of violence and love—the Ember Wolf. A creature born not of serenity and balance, but of rage and a fierce, all-consuming love.

The responsibility of that transformation weighs on me like a stone. I know what she gave up. I know what it cost her. And I know that I’ll carry that burden with me for the rest of my days. The Ember Wolf didn’t just save me—it changed everything.

“We will hold a silent ballot,” Christos announces, his voice cutting through the crowd’s praise. “To determine whether the packs should go back to their original divisions or remain as they are. Please put only the pack you are from and your vote—not your name—then drop the ballot into the box.”

Conrad moves around the room, offering ballots and pencils to all the wolves present. My gaze sweeps over the hall, watching as wolves from every corner of our territory step forward to make their voices heard. Over two hundred wolves have gathered for this vote, representing all the major and minor packs. It’s a turnout we haven’t seen in years.

As the last ballot is cast and the final wolves step back, I feel a sliver of hope. This could be the start of something new—a chance to rebuild, to forge a future where we aren’t constantly at war. I glance over at Grace, watching as the exhaustion takes its toll. She’s done enough for one day.

By the time Conrad finishes counting, Grace has fallen asleep, snuggled between Ethan’s and Nicolai’s wolves on the futon in the back corner of the pack house. She’s still in my line of sight, which eases some of the tension coiled tight in my chest. But it’s not enough. Not with all these wolves packed in here, so close to her, especially with her condition. The protectiveness surges through me like a tidal wave, and I force myself to stay calm, to keep my gaze steady.

Every instinct in me screams to get her out of here, to put distance between her and anyone who might be a threat. But I can’t—not yet. I settle for watching, my senses on high alert as I keep my focus locked on her, even as the rest of the room continues to buzz with energy.

Conrad hands me the sheet with the voting totals, and I study them carefully. The numbers reflect what I already suspected—most of the packs wish to remain split between the three larger packs. Well, technically, between the two largest packs. The combined might of the Volkov’s and my own have cemented us as the largest. The Jamerson’s follow closely behind, keeping a solid hold on the second spot.

With a deep breath, I raise my hands, calling for the attention of the gathered wolves. The murmur of conversations fades to a low hum as every eye in the hall turns to me. I can feel the tension thrumming beneath the surface, an electric charge that makes the air thick with anticipation.

“According to your votes, the divisions will remain as they currently are,” I announce, my voice steady and commanding. I give the room a moment to absorb the information before continuing. “The largest pack remains the combined packs of mine and the Volkov pack. Second largest is the Jamerson pack.”

Cheers erupt, a wave of sound crashing through the hall. I let it ride for a heartbeat or two before raising my hands again. The room falls quiet once more, and I can see the pride in their eyes, the satisfaction of wolves who know where they stand.

“We will, from now on, hold these meetings once a month to allow for fair voting on any recent issues that arise.” I glance around the room, locking eyes with as many wolves as I can, ensuring they know I’m speaking to every one of them. “Silent ballots will be used so that you can be heard without worrying about who knows what you chose.”

It’s a simple promise, but a necessary one. Trust is a fragile thing, and with the way things have been shaken up recently, I know we need to tread carefully. Transparency and fairness are paramount. I end the meeting with a nod, dismissing the gathered wolves.

“Take the time to enjoy the feast that’s been set out for you all,” I add, gesturing toward the long tables lined with steaming dishes and fresh game. The scent of roasted meats, baked breads, and rich stews fills the air, and I see smiles breaking out across the crowd.

As the wolves mingle, I let out a slow breath, rolling the tension from my shoulders. There’s still a long road ahead, but tonight feels like a victory. Two more months, I remind myself. Two more months before our next little miracles are born. The thought brings a smile to my face. With everything that’s happened, I can only hope Ethan finally gets his pup this time around. He’s been through so much—he deserves this.

My gaze drifts over the hall, landing on the different wolves, each representing a unique piece of our growing community. There’s an underlying hum of excitement, a unity that wasn’t there before. The success of tonight’s meeting feels like a step in the right direction, but it’s a delicate balance. One misstep, one wrong move, and everything could fall apart.

I catch Conrad’s eye from across the room, and he nods, his expression serious. The look is a reminder of the responsibilities that still rest on my shoulders. For now, I let myself relax, just a fraction, knowing there will always be more work to be done. But tonight, for a few precious hours, we can celebrate as a pack.