Chapter 238

Chapter 238
Third person POV
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Lance hadn’t realized how heavy the Alpha’s crown truly was until it sat on his head even temporarily.
He’d laughed about it once, teased Nolan relentlessly about the constant meetings and the political headaches. He used to say Nolan enjoyed the chaos, that he liked drowning himself in work because he didn’t know how to exist without responsibility.
Now? Lance wasn’t laughing.
The first few days after Nolan’s injury blurred together in a haze of obligations: patrol schedules needing revision, border reports pouring in, warriors seeking direction, neighboring Alphas demanding updates as if the pack wasn’t already stretched thin.
Papers stacked high on Nolan’s desk felt like walls closing in every sheet a problem that required a delicate hand.
Everyone wanted answers. About Moonstone. About the rogues. About Nolan.
Every time, Lance gave the same reply, his voice calm even as fear churned quietly beneath the surface.
“He’s alive. He’ll recover.”
It was true
but it didn’t stop the tidal wave of worry gripping the pack.
He slumped back in Nolan’s chair now, rubbing the tension from his temples. The desk felt too big, the room too quiet. Nolan always made the job look seamless, like breathing.
Lance wondered how many times his brother had ever sat exactly like this simply never let anyone see.
“How the hell does he do this every day?” Lance muttered under his breath.
“Usually with less complaining.”
He jerked upright.
exhausted, overwhelmed
and
Isla leaned casually in the doorway, one eyebrow arched, arms folded across her chest. Her outfit was simple – fitted jeans and a soft gray sweater – but she carried herself with a kind of quiet authority that made her look effortlessly regal,
“You shouldn’t be here,” Lance said, gesturing vaguely at the chaos around him. “It’s a disaster zone.”
“I noticed.” Isla walked further into the office anyway, stepping around a collapsed tower of letters with a wry smile. “Which is why I thought you might need help,”
Lance blinked, “Help. From you.”
She gave him a pointed look. “Don’t sound so shocked.”
“I’m not shocked,” he lied. Badly.
“You’re definitely shocked.” She moved behind the desk and began sorting papers with impressive speed. “My father trained me in pack administration before I could ever shift. I’ve been sitting in on council meetings since I
was nine.”
Lance stared. “Seriously?”
Isla glanced up, amused. “What? You think all I do is crash boat parties looking pretty?”
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ChaMe 238
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this
“That’s… not what I said.”
“No,” she agreed, lips twitching. “But you thought it.”
“We’re not all given the freedom to be irresponsible party boys in our youth,” she teased.
He opened his mouth, then closed it. She had him there.
They fell into a rhythm – a surprisingly steady one. Isla pulled out reports and grouped them by urgency, scribbling quick notes and arranging them in neat lines. Lance was left to sign what she handed him, occasionally stopping to ask for clarification, which she provided without hesitation.
For once, the office didn’t feel suffocating.
Isla’s presence was grounding in a way he hadn’t expected. She didn’t look at him
as if he were a temporary replacement. She didn’t pity him or tread lightly just because Nolan was injured.
She treated him like an equal – like someone capable.
It was… nice.
After several minutes, Isla finally straightened, pushing a completed stack aside. “You really care about him,” she said softly. “Your brother.”
Lance hesitated. Vulnerability didn’t come easily to him. But Isla’s gaze was open, patient.
He nodded slowly. “Yeah. I spent a long time being angry with him – for things he couldn’t have changed even if he tried. I thought he was harsh because he wanted to be, because he enjoyed being cold.” He exhaled, rubbing a thumb along the edge of a folder. “I didn’t realize he was just surviving. Trying to keep everyone else alive too.”
Isla’s expression gentled. “Guilt clouds everything. Pain, top. But sometimes stepping into someone else’s shadows lets you see what they’ve been carrying.” She tapped the desk lightly. “Maybe this role – even temporarily will give you both something you didn’t know you needed.”
Lance snorted softly. “Perspective?”
“Connection,” she corrected. “And maybe a bit of humility”
He shot her a wry look. “You’re wiser than you look.”
She smirked. “You’d better remember that.”
Nolan POV
Moonstone was quieter than Silver Fang – softer around the edges, like the whole territory breathed in a gentler rhythm. Peaceful in a way I’d almost forgotten existed. No constant tension humming beneath the pack’s surface. No waiting for the next strike.
I sat by the window in the guest room, sunlight spilling across the floor in warm bands. My arm still ached with every breath, but the pain wasn’t sharp anymore. More of a reminder along with a bruise deep in my ribs.
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