CHAPTER 481: ALPHA DRAVEN’S TERRITORY

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Chapter 481

~Snow’s POV~

The landscape began to change just as the sun started its slow descent beyond the horizon.

I rolled down the window slightly, letting in the scent of pine and cool mist as the border into Draven’s territory loomed.

High mountains lined the far edges, casting long shadows over the vast clearing up ahead. The pack settlement was nestled in a protective basin, fortified yet welcoming—a rare blend most alphas struggled to master.

But Draven had done it.

He always did things his own way.

My car pulled up to the gates just as they began to swing open. I spotted four guards—well-trained, well-dressed, and all wearing subtle leather armour with the sigil of the Moonfang Pack—a silver wolf howling at a crescent moon.

They bowed slightly, but none made a move to stop us. Word had reached them that I was expected, and hardly any pack did not know who I was or my father.

The driver eased us forward into the estate properly, and my eyes swept the area.

It hadn’t changed much.

The packhouse stood tall—steel, glass, and smooth angles, modern and sharp against the trees. Warm ambient lighting glowed from expansive windows, casting golden reflections across the polished stone terrace.

Children dashed along the manicured paths, their laughter echoing across the open estate. On the far edge of the field, about twenty pack warriors moved in disciplined formations, all dressed in similar black top and trousers clothes, focused on their sparring drills.

It felt... alive.

And that was the most dangerous part of Alpha Draven’s charm. His strength was quiet, his territory so perfectly balanced that it put visitors at ease—even when they shouldn’t be.

The car came to a stop in front of the main house.

The doors opened before I could touch the handle.

"Alpha Snow," came the deep, smooth voice I hadn’t heard in more than a year.

I stepped out, smoothing my coat as I turned—and there he was.

Alpha Draven.

Tall, broad-shouldered, and immaculately dressed in a dark navy button-down and slacks. His jet-black hair was slicked back, not a strand out of place. But it was his eyes that gave away the wolf—cool emerald-green eyes, sharp as his wolf’s.

"Alpha Draven," I said, stepping forward to clasp his arm in greeting. He returned the grip firmly while maintaining that same stoic expression.

"You made good time."

"I figured you wouldn’t tolerate tardiness."

His lips twitched in something like amusement. "Correct. Come inside."

He led the way, and I followed him through the tall doors into the estate’s main house. The foyer smelled of apple and something older—a hint of incense.

"Forgive the incense smell. Our priestess does that once a day to ward off evil spirits that may harm my wife."

I arched. Abrow, not quite following. "Why? Is your Luna not well?"

"Yes and no, but in a good way." Something like pride flickered in his eyes. "We’re expecting."

"Congratulations!" I was genuinely pleased to hear that. Silently, I looked forward to Zara and me having that.

"Thank you." We moved towards the house.

His beta’s wife, a sharp-eyed woman named Elira, stood at the top of the staircase. She offered me a respectful nod but said nothing. She hadn’t changed either.

"Your room is prepared, and your guards will be shown to their quarters," Draven said as we moved through the hall. "But I’d rather we talk over dinner. You’ve come a long way, and I imagine your appetite’s returned after the journey."

"I’ve had worse welcomes," I replied, and my lips quirked.

"Good. I apologize for not letting you rest first. I’m just a man of... Um, how do I put it... Why wait when there’s much to be done? And I am sure you have lots to do too."

"Surely. My darling mate is waiting for me, amongst other important things." I beamed.

Alpha Draven led me into a private wing of the estate, through a set of nicely carved doors and into a spacious chamber dressed in rich fabrics and warm lighting. A long dining table was set near the windows, overlooking the silver-lit mountains.

A single place was set across from his.

Not a formal banquet.

Just the two of us.

I should’ve known. Draven didn’t posture with grandeur. He postured with control.

"Please, sit," he said simply.

I did.

Wine was already poured—a deep red vintage that smelled older than me.

"You’ve come about the rogue activity," he said, swirling his glass.

"I have," I replied. "The Thorned Crescent and Shadow Clave, their alliances..." He inclined his head.

"Yes. We had rogues along our borders recently. And our scouts did the same. We didn’t engage. We followed."

I raised a brow. "You let them go?"

"I let them lead us," he corrected.

His tone was patient but firm. The kind that made you sit straighter without meaning to.

"And where did they lead you?"

"Nowhere yet. But they’re circling. Testing. Measuring our response time and coverage." He took a sip, then added, "They’re not alone. And they’re not random."

That last part settled hard in my stomach.

I picked up my glass but didn’t drink. "Well, that’s for sure. They are not alone but part of a major force. It is organised."

"I know it is."

Draven stood briefly and opened a side drawer behind him. He pulled out a black leather folder and slid it across the table.

I opened it and skimmed the contents—maps, markings, timestamps, and scattered notes.

"They’re mimicking our patrol rhythms," I muttered. "Slipping in the gaps."

"Yes. And someone taught them how."

The silence between us stretched. We both knew what that meant.

"Alpha Wayne," I said in a low voice, more to myself than to him.

"Or someone working with him," Draven added. "Either way, we’re running out of time."

I leaned back in the chair, my mind already racing.

"What do you propose?"

"We hunt one. Let him lead us to the others. I’ve already stationed elite trackers along the western ridge. They’re not to engage—only follow. But the next incursion, we move."

"Agreed."

Draven nodded once. "Good. I’ll brief you further in the morning."

"Okay, but I need to ask you an important question."