Page 27 of Knox's Fate

Before the tension could escalate further, Beckett Grey, the town sheriff, raised his hands for peace as he stood. While not as broad and muscular as Knox, the sheriff was every bit as intimidating. He was a man whose authority came from the badge and experience rather than brute strength, and his presence commanded a different kind of respect.

"Knox," Beckett began, his tone level and clear, "we all want what's best for Silver Falls. Can you give us a report on the attack? We need to try and figure out if it’s specific to you or if it might affect the entire town. We need to understand what we're up against."

“And why this all seems to be surrounding Ms. Edwards,” said one of the council members.

Knox's gaze shifted toward Beckett, a silent acknowledgment between alpha and peacekeeper. He took a moment, recalling the chaos of snarling jaws and clashing claws, before he spoke.

"The fact of the matter is we don’t. The increase in sightings may be coincidental, or it may be that if they’re after the treasure, they may think she knows something. This is not the first time we’ve seen individual scouts or scouting parties. Over the past several months, we have seen what we believed to be scouts. We’ve kept an eye on them but haven’t engaged. Earlier this week, we spotted a small party—either scouting or planning to raid. They were encroaching on our territory, and they challenged us. It did not go well for them, although no one waskilled. Interesting to me was that they were an odd mix of bear-shifters," Knox said, his voice steady despite the undercurrent of rage. "They weren't looking for a fight, that much became clear, but we gave them one. When they realized they were outmatched, they tucked tail and ran. There were too few of them and too many different kinds of bears to be a clan looking to challenge us for our territory. My guess is they were either looking for mates or for the treasure."

"Nobody died or was seriously wounded," Knox repeated, his voice a low rumble in the gathering dusk. "Those bears... they weren't just passing through. Black bears, brown, spirit, even a Kodiak, young and brash. Not one grizzly among them. That doesn’t say to me they were looking to take over. Besides, Silver Falls has always been grizzly territory."

"Doesn't make sense," growled a burly shifter to his right, the unease in his voice mirroring the collective sentiment.

"Exactly," Knox affirmed, nodding sharply. "They didn’t have the numbers or the unity. And yet, they attacked. As I said, two possibilities come to mind: mates or the silver treasure. But neither sits completely right with me."

The council chamber hummed with tension. Knox’s brooding gaze swept across the assemblage of elders and young shifters alike. The murmur of voices tapered into silence as Gilbert Reynard, with his usual penchant for stirring unrest, rose from his seat.

"Even if we entertain the notion of treasure hunters," Reynard began, his voice carrying a note of skepticism, "we mustn't ignore Lorraine's death as a potential catalyst."

Knox's eyes narrowed at the mention of Lorraine, the tragedy still fresh in the minds of his clan. He watched Reynard closely, aware of the undercurrents at play.

"Her demise hasn't been officially ruled as murder," Reynard continued, locking eyes with Knox as if challenging him to refute the claim.

A low growl rumbled in Knox's throat before he could stop it. Pushing off the wall, he stepped forward, the floorboards creaking beneath his heavy boots. The room fell into an expectant hush as the alpha of their clan addressed the gathering.

"Being tied up and tortured doesn't exactly lend itself to accidental, natural, or suicide," Knox snorted, his words laced with scorn. His voice echoed through the room, deep and commanding, leaving no room for doubt about his conviction.

"Let's not dance around the truth," he said, locking eyes with each person in turn. "In that respect, we're dealing with predators of the worst kind, and I intend to find out who they are."

Gilbert Reynard leaned forward, his gaze shifting from the indignant Knox to where Ruby sat with Knox’s clan. "We must consider all possibilities," he said pointedly. "The rival bear-shifters that attacked could very well be after something—or someone. Possibly Ruby and what she knows. We only have her word that her aunt took the information she had with her to the grave."

Knox turned, a protective glare cutting through Reynard's insinuation. Ruby's presence was like a flame in the dimness of the council room, drawing unwelcome moths to its brilliance. His instincts roared with the need to shield her from both the physical danger and the invasive eyes that now settled upon her.

"Ruby Edwards is clan business," Knox declared, his voice brooking no argument as his eyes found hers, blazing with an intensity that bordered on possessiveness. "And if anyone has forgotten that I’d be happy to step outside and remind him personally."

Beckett groaned.

“Groan all you like, Beck. But this council continues to ignore the obvious—Lorraine Clearwater was murdered. We need to find out who did that and hold them accountable.”

Murmurs rose among the council members, but Knox continued, undeterred. "We're dealing with something that doesn't add up, and I intend to get to the bottom of it."

Beckett nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. "Do what you must, Knox. Just keep us informed."

As the meeting drew to a close, Knox noted the alliances forming, the silent pledges of support. He knew that the road ahead was fraught with speedbumps, but with his clan united and Ruby by their side, they were ready to face whatever darkness lay ahead.

The meeting ended with tension hanging thick in the air, unresolved issues lingering like ghosts among the council members as they dispersed. Knox moved first, his large frame navigating effortlessly through the crowd until he reached Ruby. As they exited the chamber, his thoughts were already on the next move, the safety of his clan, and protecting Ruby at any cost.

The door to the council chamber closed with a heavy thud behind Knox, echoing his mood. The air outside was crisp, the scent of the impending change in seasons mingling with the tension that clung to him like a second skin. His broad shoulders were set, ready for whatever lay ahead.

"Look," he said, addressing the small cluster of loyal clan members waiting for him, their faces etched with concern. "We've got an issue that's bigger than a simple territory dispute."His eyes, brown like the earth after a storm, scanned the circle of his people. They trusted him, looked to him for guidance, and he wouldn't let them down.

"Silver treasure?" someone scoffed lightly, though the skepticism was undercut by a hint of greed.

"Legends are often grounded in truth, and I am convinced Lorraine died for what someone thought she knew," Knox replied, his tone dismissive of the folly such myths usually inspired. "But we won't be led astray by fairy tales. Our priority is the safety and stability of our clan."

A collective nod rippled through the group.

"Beck isn't thrilled about the idea, but I'll be reaching out to the other clans. We need to know if they've seen anything unusual," Knox declared. His decision was met with murmurs of assent, his authority as their alpha unchallenged.

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