The Silver Wolf (Diana and Talon) novel Chapter 42

Chapter Forty-Two

‘My king, I have news

The heavy doors of the stone chamber groaned as they opened, echoing through the Rogue King’s private office. Beta Conall stepped inside, his posture-rigid, his head bowed in respect, but the urgency in his stride betrayed him.

Damon looked up sharply from the war table spread before him. Maps of territories, old pack borders, and marked danger zones littered the surface. Conall never entered without permission unless the matter was critical.

What is it?” Damon asked, his voice calm but edged with warning.

Conall swallowed once before speaking. “We heard a contact how from one of our subordinates,” he said carefully. “It was the signal howl, my king. The one used only when something… significant is discovered.” Damon straightened. His fingers curled slowly against the edge of the table. “Go on.”

The silver wolf has been found.”

The words barely finished leaving Conall’s mouth before Damon surged to his feet. “What?!”

His chair screeched violently against the stone floor before toppling backward with a loud crash. The sound echoed through the chamber, but Damon barely registered it. His heart pounded, his wolf stirring violently beneath his skin.

‘Where is she?” Damon demanded, crossing the room in two long strides. “Where is this wolf?”

Conall lifted his head just enough to meet his king’s eyes. “My king… we believe that wolf is already dead.”

The air in the room shifted-heavy, suffocating.

Damon froze.

“Dead?” he repeated slowly, the word tasting bitter on his tongue.

“Our deltas conducted an investigation,” Conall continued. “The wolf in question was among those captured by the Crimson Fang Pack during a recent incident.”

Damon’s eyes darkened. “Captured?”

“Yes, my king. According to the report, one of the captured wolves managed to escape. That wolf is currently being brought here by Dante.”

Damon’s hands clenched into fists. A low growl rumbled in his chest, vibrating through the chamber. He snarled. “Crimson Fang Pack dares to imprison my rogues?”

“The information I received,” Conall said carefully, “is that your rogues attacked their pack.”

Damon’s head snapped up. “That is impossible.”

Silence stretched between them.

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<Chapter Fourwo

did not issue any order to attack Crimson Fang” Damon said, his voice cold and absolute. “Not one. We are not reckless animals.”

“I do not know what truly happened, my king,” Conall admitted. “But Dante will arrive soon. He was the one who recovered the escapee. We will have answers then.”

Damon turned away, staring at the darkened window overlooking the rogue settlement beyond the mountain. Lights flickered in the distance, wolves who lived in shadows, hunted by packs that refused to see them as anything but monsters.

‘We finally know where our mate is.’

The voice echoed inside his mind-deep, ancient, and powerful.

Cerberus.

Damon closed his eyes briefly, feeling his wolf’s presence coil around his thoughts.

‘We have searched for her for a decade, Cerberus continued. ‘Since the oracle spoke.

Damon could still remember that day as if it had happened yesterday.

Ten years ago, the oracle’s cave had reeked of incense and blood. Her blind eyes had turned white as she spoke, her voice layered with something not entirely of this world.

The silver wolf will rise.

She alone will choose her mate.

And the one she chooses will hold the power to unite all wolves-pack-born and rogue alike.

That prophecy had changed everything.

From that moment on, Damon had searched relentlessly. Quietly. Carefully. He could not let the packs know what the rogues were building in the shadows. He could not let them know that the rogues were no longer scattered survivors-but a growing kingdom.

All Damon had ever wanted was peace.

Acceptance.

A future where rogues did not have to live hunted, starving, and nameless.

Right now, the world believes all rogues are violent, uncivilized beasts. But Damon knew better. His pack was made of broken wolves cast out for reasons that had nothing to do with loyalty or strength. Some had been banished simply for speaking truths their alphas did not want to hear, and some had been rejected by their fated mates and discarded like trash.

He had one rogue who was exiled because the alpha’s chosen mate did not want a reminder of what she had taken.

Others were victims of politics, jealousy, and cruelty disguised as leadership.

“They deserve a place,” Damon whispered.

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ولت

They deserve a queen, Cerberus replied.

Damon opened his eyes, resolve hardening in his chest.

“If the silver wolf truly lived, Damon said quietly, his voice barely more than a breath as he stared into the darkness beyond the window, “and if she truly can choose her mate…”

The thought alone sent a ripple through him. For ten years, the prophecy had been a distant flame- something to chase, something to hope for. Now it was close enough to burn.

A deep, possessive growl rolled through his mind.

‘She will choose us.

Cerberus’ voice was absolute. Certain. There was no doubt in it, only conviction and the ancient confidence of a wolf who had never been denied what he claimed

Damon arched a brow, though Cerberus could feel the flicker of amusement beneath the seriousness.

‘And how exactly do you plan to ensure that, Cerberus?’ Damon asked calmly. ‘You know the prophecy as well as I do. She chooses. Not us.’

Cerberus snorted, the sound echoing through their shared mind. Damon felt the shift instantly. The image forming without effort.

A massive gray wolf stood tall in the mental plane, his fur gleaming like polished steel beneath an unseen moon. Cerberus lifted his enormous head high, chest puffed out with unmistakable pride, his glowing eyes alight with confidence bordering on arrogance.

‘Simple, Cerberus said, his tone maddeningly serious, ‘No matter how hard she tries… she will not be able to deny me!

Damon exhaled slowly, shaking his head. ‘That’s not an answer. That’s arrogance.

Cerberus’ lips curled into what could only be described as a smug grin. ‘Call it what you want. I call it certainty’

‘And what makes you so certain?’ Damon pressed. ‘She’s the silver wolf. The one the oracle said would stand above all others. She won’t be easily swayed by strength alone.

‘Strength is only part of it,’ Cerberus’ gaze sharpened. ‘She will feel us. Our power. Our loyalty. Our hunger to protect, to unite, to lead. She will see that we do not seek her for dominance, but for balance.’

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