Chapter 179

Grayson’s POV

I hadn’t given it much thought before. For years, I’d built my reputation on fear—a reputation so formidable that betrayal seemed laughable. No one would dare cross me, not if they valued their life. Or so I thought. But the moment my phone screen went black, the realization hit me like a gut punch. Someone had tampered with it. Someone on the inside.

It was all clear now: the message from the killer appearing at the estate entrance unseen; the breach of my meticulously crafted security. There was no doubt; whoever was responsible wasn't just bold—they had inside help.

I wasn't naïve enough to think I'd uncover the mole during this meeting. That would be too easy. This was about sending a message—to the traitor, to the pack, to anyone foolish enough to challenge me. They needed to remember who I was and why no one dared cross me.

Whispers filled the hall, creating a nervous energy. I let them murmur their theories, their doubts. Fear was a powerful tool; silence commanded respect, but sometimes you needed to let people unravel before reeling them back in.

My gaze swept the room, landing briefly on Ava. Seated to my right, her expression was carefully blank, though a slight crease in her brow betrayed her annoyance. She was irritated, no doubt because I hadn’t informed her of my plans.

I raised my hand, silencing the room instantly. The ensuing silence was heavy, oppressive. When I spoke, my voice was calm, even, but the steel beneath it was unmistakable.

“As some of you may have heard, there was a recent shooting,” I began, scanning the faces. “I was the target, and yes, I was shot.”

A collective intake of breath was audible, followed by murmurs. I didn't pause to address the shock or concern. “The person responsible is the same individual—or group—behind the other killings. They want my throne. They’re trying to destabilize us, to weaken us from within.”

I paused, letting my words sink in. The room was utterly still, the silence now tinged with unease. “And I’ll admit something surprising,” I continued, my tone softening slightly, “I don’t have the answers. I don’t know who’s responsible. And I don’t yet know how I’m going to stop them.”

The silence stretched, heavy and almost unbearable. I rarely admitted vulnerability—not to my pack, not to anyone. But there was power in honesty, in showing that I wasn’t invincible, but still standing, still fighting.

“What I do know,” I said, my voice strengthening, “is that the throne has been in my family for centuries. And I have no intention of losing it.”

A flicker of something—relief, perhaps, or renewed determination—passed through the crowd.

“My pack will not suffer because of this war. I will ensure that. But make no mistake—this isn’t just my battle. It’s ours. Whoever is responsible isn’t just coming for me. They’re coming for all of us, for everything we’ve built, for everything we’ve fought to protect.”

“From this moment forward,” I continued, “things are going to change. We will tighten security. No one comes or goes without my knowledge. Every member of this pack will be accounted for. There will be no room for error, no room for weakness.”

I let my words hang in the air before delivering the final blow. “And as of today, I am invoking a curfew. No one leaves their homes after sundown without my express permission.”

The announcement caused an immediate uproar. The room erupted in a low hum of discontent, whispers and murmurs filling the space once more. The higher ranks exchanged glances; some nodded in agreement, others frowned in displeasure.

“I am not done speaking!” My voice cut through the noise, sharp and commanding. The murmurs ceased, and all eyes turned to me.

“The curfew is not up for debate,” I said firmly. “It is a measure to protect you, to ensure that we leave no room for the enemy to exploit. If you have questions, ask them now. But do not mistake this for an invitation to challenge my authority.”

A man from the middle ranks stood hesitantly, clearing his throat. “Your Highness,” he began, his voice trembling slightly, “with all due respect, don’t you think a curfew might create more fear among the pack? People might think we’re weak if we’re hiding behind closed doors.”

I fixed him with a cold stare, and he visibly flinched. “Weakness,” I said slowly, “is allowing the enemy to move freely while we do nothing. Strength is taking control of the situation before it spirals further out of hand. Do you disagree?”

“N–no, Your Highness,” he stammered, quickly sitting down.

Another voice piped up, this time from the back of the room. “And what about our jobs? Some of us work at night. Will exceptions be made?”

“Exceptions will be granted on a case-by-case basis,” I replied evenly. “Anyone requiring clearance will come directly to me. If your reason is valid, you’ll receive permission. If not, you’ll stay home. It’s as simple as that.”

The room fell silent once more, the tension thick but contained.

I leaned forward, my gaze sweeping over the crowd. “Let me be clear. This curfew is not a punishment. It’s a test. A test of your loyalty, of your trust in me. I expect compliance, not rebellion. And if anyone thinks they’re above the rules, they’ll find out very quickly that they’re not.”

Ava shifted beside me, her expression unreadable. I felt her disapproval, but she said nothing. She understood, as I did, that this wasn’t about being liked. It was about being respected. Feared, if necessary.

“Now,” I said, straightening, “if there are no more questions, we move on.”

The room remained silent, the atmosphere heavy with unspoken thoughts.

“Like I said before,” I continued, my voice cold and commanding, “no one is leaving until I find out who the mole is. But let us be realistic. Do you really think I can find out who the mole is?”

A tense silence followed. Then, a voice from the back broke the quiet.

“No,” she said flatly.

All eyes turned to her. She was an Omega, barely noticeable unless you were paying attention. But now, her words commanded everyone’s attention.

I watched her carefully, my gaze unyielding. “Why, Kendra?”

She blinked, clearly startled. “You know my name, Your Highness?”

I didn’t respond, my eyes still fixed on her. Her posture stiffened, and she continued, her voice wavering.

“I just… I don’t think it’s possible. There are over a thousand people here,” she paused, her breath shaky. “How could anyone possibly figure out who’s betraying us?”

I nodded slowly, acknowledging her point. It was a reasonable concern, but it didn’t change anything. “She is right, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to change my mind. Nobody is leaving until I find out who it is. And maybe… just maybe… you could help yourselves by suggesting how I can find this person, so you can all go about your day.”

The tension thickened, and murmurs began to swell. The pressure of everyone waiting for an answer, a solution, was palpable. Then, one of my high-ranking members stood up abruptly, his voice cutting through the noise.

“How are we sure it isn’t her?” he asked, his eyes narrowing at Ava. “After all, this all started when she came along. How are you sure your Luna isn’t the mole?”