Chapter 220: The Gathering Storm

The afternoon sun slanted through the office windows, spilling golden light across the piles of parchment on Orion’s desk. Despite the warmth it carried, the light only reminded him of how long he’d been sitting there—how much of the day had slipped through his fingers while he battled paperwork that seemed to multiply each time he blinked.

He sighed and leaned back in his chair, rolling his shoulders. He’d taken a short break earlier, bringing food to Sophia’s house, only to find her still sound asleep. He hadn’t wanted to wake her. There was something peaceful about the way she slept, her brow finally relaxed, her breathing even. For a moment, he had just stood there, the faint crackle from her hearth echoing in the quiet. Then, he’d set the bowl of porridge on her table and slipped out silently, closing the door behind him.

That had been hours ago.

Now, he was buried once again beneath the mountain of reports that never seemed to end.

Across from him, Garrett sat stiffly at his smaller desk, scribbling notes with all the tension of someone trying very hard not to make a mistake. The boy’s neatness almost irritated Orion—how was he not tired? And why was he so focused?

Orion flipped another parchment, squinting at the lines of numbers when a sudden gasp made his head snap up.

Garrett froze, his quill halfway to the inkpot.

Orion frowned. "What is it?"

Garrett hesitated, his expression twisting between guilt and worry. "Um... Alpha... I—I forgot to tell you something."

"That doesn’t sound good," Orion muttered, dropping his quill. "Out with it."

"When you... uh, when you stepped out earlier," Garrett started slowly, "Paula came over."

That name made Orion’s brows draw together immediately. "Paula?"

Garrett nodded quickly. "Y-Yes, sir. She said it was something important. I was going to tell you, I swear, but then there were things to do and I—"

Orion lifted a hand to stop him. "Save the excuses. You said Paula came over?"

"Yes, Alpha... I’m sorry for not—"

"Garrett," Orion called out, and he sat up straighter.

"Yes?"

"I hate excessive apologies."

"Right," Garrett said with a nod. "I’m so—"

Orion gave him a look, and he swallowed, then nodded.

Orion leaned back, rubbing his temple. Paula was the one who oversaw the weather division—a small but essential department in the pack. Her people were responsible for predicting storms and reading the skies. In a land where the weather could shift in an instant, Paula’s work often meant the difference between safety and disaster.

Still, for the past few weeks, things had been calm. The skies were steady, the winds predictable. It was just normal snowfall, but if Paula had sought him out, then the peace was going to be disrupted soon.

Orion straightened in his chair. "Did she say why she came?"

Garrett shook his head, guilt written all over his face. "No. She didn’t stay long. She said she’d be back at her post. I’m..." He stopped when he realized he was about to apologize unnecessarily again.

Orion exhaled slowly. "Well, since we have work to do, let’s go."

He pushed away from the desk, grabbing his cloak from the back of his chair. The movement was quick and decisive, a clear sign that the conversation was over. Garrett scrambled up immediately and followed him out.

The walk to the eastern part of the pack took only a few minutes.

Paula’s department was housed in a long, stone building at the eastern edge of the pack.

It wasn’t large, but it was one of the more distinct buildings in the pack—its walls painted with faded symbols of clouds, lightning bolts, and the phases of the moon. Thin banners in shades of pale blue hung above the doorway, fluttering gently in the wind.

As Orion stepped inside, he immediately noticed the shift in atmosphere. The air was cooler here, touched by the scent of parchment, chalk, and something else Orion couldn’t place. The sound of murmured voices filled the space, blending with the soft scratch of quills and the occasional rustle of paper.

The room stretched long, with tables lining both sides, each covered in a mix of scrolls, weather charts, and small, delicate instruments. A few crystals hung from strings above the tables, catching the light and scattering faint blue reflections across the walls.

At the far end, a group of pack members worked around a wide table marked with hand-drawn maps. Their blue feather earrings glinted as they moved—a symbol unique to this department. Each member wore at least one, and it shimmered whenever they leaned over their work.

One of them noticed Orion first and straightened immediately. "Alpha Orion."

The greeting rippled through the room like a quiet wave, heads turning, voices dropping. Everyone stepped aside respectfully as Orion walked past.

He nodded once, acknowledging them without slowing his stride. His boots clicked softly against the floor, echoing faintly in the quiet. Garrett trailed a few steps behind him, trying—and failing—to look composed.

Orion’s gaze swept the room until he found Paula. She stood near the back, her dark hair woven into a messy braid that fell over one shoulder. Two blue feather earrings dangled from her ears, glinting each time she moved. She was leaning over a table with two of her subordinates, a scroll unfurled before them. A map of Nirvana stretched across the table, marked with faint inked lines and symbols Orion couldn’t quite decipher from where he stood.

The map was still incomplete because there were parts of Nirvana they hadn’t yet discovered, and it was hand-drawn, but it served its purpose.

Paula looked up the moment Orion approached.

"You’re here," she said, her voice low but steady.

"Garrett said you came by," Orion replied. "What’s going on?"

Paula’s hand tightened around the edge of the table. The other two members exchanged quick glances, their faces pale under the soft light.

"You should see this," she said, motioning to the map.

Orion stepped closer. The parchment was marked with rings of color—faint lines drawn in blue and grey, radiating outward like ripples. There were symbols too, strange ones he didn’t recognize, but Paula seemed to understand them well enough.

"What am I looking at?" he asked.

"The wind patterns shifted two hours ago," Paula said, tracing a finger across the eastern ridge on the map. "And the temperature dropped faster than expected. We thought it was nothing at first, but then we checked the readings again."

Orion’s eyes flicked up to her face. "And?"

Paula met his gaze, her expression grim.

"There’s a storm coming," she said quietly. "A huge one."