Chapter 0426

After confirming with Leopold that all newcomers had been temporarily housed, I made my rounds through the packhouse. Every room was occupied, stocked with fresh linens and spare clothes. Satisfied, I stepped outside to survey the rest of Sanctuary.

I visited each home that had opened its doors to refugees, ensuring no conflicts had arisen. Most were adapting well, their relief palpable.

By the time I returned, Isolde was already asleep. A quick shower washed away the exhaustion of the past days before I slid into bed beside her.

Morning brought the scent of breakfast and the murmur of voices. Gathering both new members and ranked warriors—except Seraphina, who remained at the medical ward—I addressed the crowd.

"Welcome to Sanctuary." My voice carried over the dining hall. "I trust you've rested well and eaten your fill." A ripple of agreement followed. I introduced our leadership, then gestured toward the construction sites visible through the windows.

"Sanctuary is rising from the ground up. That means you'll build your own homes." I outlined the repayment system for materials and labor. "You'll also be assigned roles. If you have specialized skills, inform me or Beta Leopold—we're establishing storefronts on the new market street. Otherwise, there's no shortage of work here."

Over the next few days, they'd learn our borders while our warriors assessed their abilities. Questions arose about previous trades and wages—all answered before I yielded the floor to Lillian.

"Sanctuary lives by its name," she declared. "Respect is given and expected. Violence earns banishment. If these terms don't suit you, leave now. But if you stay, tomorrow's ceremony will bind you to this pack."

Dismissing them to explore, I noted the crowd's composition. Of the 150 survivors, many were parents who'd value safety for their pups. Several approached immediately—carpenters sent to Nathaniel, laborers assigned to Donovan's construction crews.

The omegas needed more recovery time, but their determination shone through. Lillian and Rosalind paired them with Isabella and Aurora for skill evaluations.

By dusk, thirty had departed—mostly lone males and elderly pairs unwilling to rebuild. The next evening, beneath torchlight, 105 wolves swore allegiance. Fourteen juveniles would pledge later. Music and feasting lasted till moonrise, celebrating our growing strength.

Before the festivities ended, I announced the upcoming mate gathering, drawing curious glances toward the sylvan fae—Elara perched on Theodore's shoulder, Luna and Stella flanking Alistair.

Later, I asked Alistair about his mating marks. Unlike wolves, the fae bore paired circles glowing above their hearts. "No beginning, no end," he explained, shirt pulled aside to reveal the intertwined symbols. "Eternal love, shared light." Even I, no admirer of fae, couldn't deny the beauty of such devotion.

As embers faded in the fire pits, I drew Lillian onto my lap. The pack's joy hummed around us, but in that moment, only her warmth mattered—a beacon in the gathering dark.