Page 3 of The Alpha's Auctioned Pregnant Mate

The revelation hung in the air, each Alpha processing what this meant. It was a part of their shared history that had been glossed over, simplified in the stories they'd been told as pups.

"So the Annex Pack," Fannar said slowly, his logical mind piecing things together, "they're not rogues themselves, but descendants of your family? Guardians on the other side?"

Articus nodded. "Exactly. They're the second line of defense, keeping the rogues in check on their side of the mountain. Over time, they've developed their own culture, their own way of life. But they're still connected to us—to my pack specifically."

"And now you have to go there," Blake said, understanding dawning in his eyes. "Because there's been a change in leadership."

"Yes," Articus confirmed. "My cousin, Cassius—well, cousin many times removed at this point—is taking over as Alpha. His father passed away recently, and as the Alpha of the main pack, it's my responsibility to oversee the transition."

The group fell silent again, each lost in their own thoughts. Articus could see them processing this information, reconciling it with what they'd always believed about the world beyond their territories.

The fact that they knew so little about it meant the White Moon and Annex packs were doing their jobs properly with the rest able to rest. Although that one error, that blight on their history remained.

Finally, Rowan spoke up, his voice quiet but steady. "This rogue... the one that came through years ago..." He didn't need to finish the sentence. They all knew what he was referring to.

Articus felt a wave of shame and regret wash over him. "I'm so sorry, Rowan. It was a failure on our part, on my pack's part. We should have stopped it before it ever reached your territory."

Rowan shook his head, a sad smile on his face. "It's not your fault, Art. We've been over this. Rogues are unpredictable, and even the best defenses can fail sometimes."

The others murmured in agreement, but Articus could still feel the weight of responsibility on his shoulders. It was moments like these that reminded him of the true burden of being an Alpha—not just leading a pack, but being accountable for their safety and the safety of others.

Articus’s pack possessed unique abilities that set them apart. Their wolves, with their striking white coats and piercing blue eyes, were not only symbols of their purity but also had specialized skills suited for their role.

They could navigate the treacherous terrains of the divide with ease, their senses finely tuned to detect any disturbances or breaches. This heightened perception was crucial for identifying any rogue threats before they could cause harm.

The pack’s primary responsibility was to maintain the boundary, ensuring that no rogue or unwelcome entity crossed from the Dark Side to the light side of the mountain. They patrolled the borders constantly, their vigilance a constant reminder of the delicate balance they were sworn to protect.

This duty was particularly important because of the rogue history associated with the Dark Side of the mountain. Rogues, once banished, often harbored deep-seated grudges and could be incredibly dangerous.

The divide itself was a natural barrier, marked by its rugged terrain and harsh weather. Snow and ice cloaked the Dark Side, making it a formidable landscape. Yet, it was the White Moon pack’s role to not only monitor but also to engage directly if any rogue managed to slip past the natural defenses.

The tragic incident that had cemented their role as guardians was a stark reminder of the pack’s significance. Years ago, a rogue had breached their defenses and crossed into Rowan’s territory, leading to a devastating attack.

The rogue’s actions had resulted in the death of Rowan’s parents, a loss that had rippled through the packs and underscored the gravity of the White Moon Pack’s duty.

This incident had a profound effect on the pack dynamics. Articus, as the leader, had always felt the weight of that failuredeeply. Despite the rigorous training and vigilance of his pack, the breach had exposed a flaw in their defenses, leading to the death of innocents.

Articus’s feelings about the incident were complex. On one hand, there was a deep-seated regret over the loss of life and the impact it had on Rowan and his pack. On the other hand, there was a fierce determination to prevent such a tragedy from happening again.

This duality drove Articus to push his pack to their limits, ensuring they were always prepared for the unexpected.

Never again,

"So what happens now?" Callahan asked, breaking the somber mood. "You go to this Annex Pack, oversee the change of leadership, and then what?"

Articus shrugged, feeling the uncertainty of the situation. "I'm not entirely sure. It's been years since I've been there—not since I was a pup, really. I know things have changed, but I don't know how much."

"Will you be safe?" Asher asked, his normally stoic face showing a hint of concern.

"I should be," Articus assured them. "They're still family, after all. Distant family, but family nonetheless. And they respect the old traditions."

Blake leaned forward, his diplomatic instincts kicking in. "This could be an opportunity, you know. To strengthen ties, maybe even improve communication between our side and theirs."

Articus nodded thoughtfully. "That's what I'm hoping for. It's been too long since we've had any real contact. Maybe it's time to change that."

His friends nodded in understanding, their expressions a mix of empathy and encouragement. Rowan, who had been listening intently, placed a reassuring hand on Articus’s shoulder. “You’re doing more than just attending a ceremony. You’re upholding a legacy and showing your commitment to the pack’s traditions. That’s something to be proud of.”

Articus offered a grateful smile, feeling a sense of relief from the support of his friends, especially Rowan's. The upcoming trip would be challenging, but knowing that his friends believed in him made the task seem a bit more manageable.

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