Page 4 of A Roar for Magic

The family dining room buzzed with barely contained energy as members of the pride’s inner circle arrived. Crystal chandeliers floated near the ceiling, their light catching on the enchanted wallpaper where golden tigers prowled between silk flowers. The massive oak table—brought over from the old country generations ago—had been expanded to accommodate nearly thirty people.

Rook adjusted his tie, hyper-aware of the assessing looks from various pride members. His tiger bristled at their scrutiny, recognizing the weight of unspoken expectations. He’d spent years avoiding exactly this—the politics, the power plays, the responsibility of pride leadership that had consumed his father’s life.

“Stop fidgeting,” Banner muttered beside him. “You look like you’re waiting for execution instead of dinner.”

“Depends on what Grandmother has planned.”

“Why do you assume I have anything planned?” Ilaria appeared between them, making Banner jump. “Can’t a grandmother simply enjoy having her family together?”

“No,” Rook and Banner replied in unison.

Ilaria’s laugh drew attention from around the table. She looked every inch the family matriarch in her silk dress and elegant jewelry, but Rook caught the slight tremor in her hands as she took her seat at the head of the table. His tiger growled softly, concerned. Whatever was happening, it was taking a toll.

Sabine directed everyone to their seats with practiced ease, though Rook noticed she’d arranged things to keep Hudson and Justus at opposite ends. Smart girl. The two alphas had been circling each other like rivals since Justus’s return from his mysterious absence.

“Quite the turnout,” Hudson observed smoothly, swirling his wine. “One might think there was a special occasion.”

“Every family gathering is special,” Azella replied, but her smile held an edge. “Though some more than others.”

The first course arrived—a traditional pride dish of rare venison with herbs that enhanced shifter senses. Rook’s tiger perked up at the familiar flavors, remembering countless family dinners where his father had presided over similar gatherings. The empty chair at the foot of the table seemed to mock him with its implications.

Conversation flowed around business ventures and pride politics. Lane kept the mood light with his running commentary, though even his jokes couldn’t completely dispel the underlying tension. Everyone seemed to be waiting for something.

“The spa project sounds ambitious,” Xavier Kane, one of the pride’s elder businessmen, commented. “Following in your father’s footsteps, expanding into new territories.”

“The spa will benefit the entire community,” Rook replied. “Not just the pride.”

“Careful,” Justus’s voice carried from down the table. “Too much focus on outsiders can weaken pride bonds. Your father understood the importance of maintaining our traditions.”

“My father understood the importance of evolution,” Rook countered, surprised by the heat in his own voice. His tiger stalked closer to the surface, responding to the challenge in Justus’s tone.

“Did he?” Justus leaned forward. “Or did his modernization weaken us? Leave us vulnerable to?—”

The crystal in Ilaria’s hand chimed sharply, cutting through the rising tension. All eyes turned to her as she rose, her presence commanding instant attention.

“Family,” she began, her voice carrying to every corner of the room, “we gather tonight in a time of transition. As you know, the pride has been without formal leadership since my brother-in-law Wallace’s passing.”

The silence grew heavy. Rook’s tiger went absolutely still, recognizing the gravity of the moment.

“The Council of Elders has deliberated,” Ilaria continued. “We are unanimous in our decision.” Her eyes found Rook’s. “It’s time for you to take your place as alpha of the Western Mountain Pride.”

The words hit like a physical blow. Around the table, reactions ranged from quiet approval to poorly concealed outrage. His own heartbeat thundered in his ears as his tiger surged forward, responding to the power in Ilaria’s proclamation.

“Grandmother—” he started, but she held up a hand.

“You’ve run from this long enough,” she said, her voice gentler but no less firm. “The pride needs a leader who understands both tradition and progress. Someone who can bridge the old ways with the new.”

“There are others with more experience,” Rook argued, even as his tiger rebelled against his protests. “I’ve been focused on the corporation, not pride politics.”

“Politics can be learned,” Hudson cut in smoothly. “But true leadership... that’s in the blood. Isn’t that right, Uncle Justus?”

Something dangerous flashed in Justus’s eyes. “Blood isn’t everything. The pride needs someone committed to our ways, not a corporate prince playing at tradition.”

“Careful, Uncle.” Lane’s usual humor had vanished. “You’re talking to your alpha.”

“He’s not alpha yet.” Justus pushed back from the table. “The old laws allow for challenges. Unless our corporate prince is afraid to prove himself the traditional way.”

Rook’s tiger roared to life, every instinct screaming to answer the challenge. He felt his teeth sharpen, claws threatening to emerge. The beast had been waiting for this moment, herealized. Waiting to claim what they’d both known was rightfully theirs.

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