The Great Hall of the Silver Crown glowed under chandeliers, their crystals scattering light like stars across the mosaic platform where we twenty stood, our performance gowns shimmering: crimson silks with gold flame embroidery for Flame Fang, sapphire chiffon with silver swirls for Aero Claw, emerald velvet with jade vines for Terra Fang, teal satin with pearl waves for Aqua Paw. The air thrummed with anticipation, the scent of wax and incense mingling with the murmurs of the Alpha Sovereigns—Thorne, Evelyn, Haven—and royal guests seated on gilded chairs. I, Ember, stood at the platform's edge, my scarlet gown heavy with ruby beads, the pendant pulsing warm against my chest. The full moon, three weeks away, loomed in my mind, its weight tied to Haven's choice and secrets I couldn't name.
Vera stood before us, her gray wool dress stark, her voice cutting through the hall. "Tonight, you showcase your elemental gifts for the crown. Precision and heart will sway the prince." Her eyes lingered on me, a cat-like grace in her step, stirring a question—did she see my hidden depths? The hall buzzed as Aria's Aero Claw minions, Veyra, Bree, Marina, clustered near her, their sapphire gowns a chorus of whispers. "You're the prince's chosen, Aria," Veyra purred, adjusting her silver circlet. Aria smirked, her ambition a blade. "My winds will bind him." Their adoration grated, but the elements' pull—wind, earth, water—fascinated me, a confusion I couldn't unravel.
The Aero Claw girls performed first. Aria summoned a whirlwind, spinning petals into a shimmering spiral, its precision flawless, a dance of air that captivated the court. Evelyn leaned forward, her affinity for Aria's poise clear, clapping warmly. The wind's grace tugged at me, a breeze brushing my skin unbidden, as if I could guide it. My pendant warmed. Why did air feel like mine? Veyra shaped mist into a wolf, its form holding steady, flawless in its fleeting beauty, earning gasps. Bree's gust swirled with elegant curls, unwavering, while Marina's vortex spun a leaf in endless circles, perfect in its control, her loyalty to Aria a quiet undercurrent. Sylva wove a breeze that danced with light, precise but lacking heart, fading into Aria's shadow. Each display pulled at me, the wind's freedom resonating, a mystery I buried as the crowd roared.
The Terra Fang girls followed. Riven raised a stone wolf, its form unyielding, flawless in its solid lines, earth's durability a shield. No cracks marred it, her control absolute, drawing Thorne's nod. Avani's vines coiled into a den, fluid yet firm, while Tilda's mound formed a barrier, rigid but unbroken. Eldra sculpted a stone pillar, its edges sharp, a testament to misty valley strength, but her focus wavered on the court's gaze. The earth's strength called to me, a grounding hum, my fingers tingling as if I could summon vines. My pendant pulsed, the fascination confusing—how could Earth echo my fire?
The Aqua Paw girls took the platform. Liora wove a healing orb, soothing a guest's minor burn, water's fluidity flawless in its gentle glow. Heat dimmed it, revealing vulnerability. Brooke's cascade flowed with grace, holding steady, while Coral's mist healed a scratch, her control from volcanic ridges. Seris shaped a rippling shield, deflecting a pebble with coastal precision, and Nerys crafted a shimmering pool, its calm surface breaking under heat. The water's cool current pulled at me, soothing my inner flame, as if I could bend it. My pendant heated—why did I feel the pull of water? I pushed the thought down, my confusion growing as the court clapped.
The Flame Fang girls stepped forward. Mira and Lira's twin flames danced in a blazing arc, flaring high but controlled, their harmony vibrant. Sable's roaring blaze formed a glowing ring, no sparks astray, her boldness shining. Sara's flame-weave crafted a glowing basket, intricate and nearly flawless, until Aria's undetected breeze scattered it, sparks flickering. Sara faltered, her eyes wide, but I stepped closer, my heart racing. Instinct surged, and I pushed out with my mind, a gust of air—my own—countering Aria's, compressing the sparks to steady Sara's weave. The air bent to my will, leaving me breathless and confused—how could I wield wind? The pendant burned, its warning of a cost—dimming my spirit—echoing, the court unaware of my act.
I took the platform, my wolf-and-stag display leaping vividly, flames telling a Moon rite tale from Scorchvale Ridge. Aria's breeze fanned it, sparks flying, but I pushed again, air bending to my will, containing the flare in a flawless arc. The court gasped, Thorne's eyes narrowing—instability or strength? Haven's gaze held mine, his shadow-shifting gift stirring, but I saw only his kindness to Sara, a pang twisting my heart. Why had his eyes darkened at the feast when I spoke of Kadyn? The memory gnawed, a shadow I couldn't read.
As I stepped back, my thoughts drifted to my mother, Seina, her healing hands a legacy of sacrifice, burned too bright to endure. The elements' pull—wind, earth, water—lingered, a fascination I couldn't grasp, as if the Old Spirits whispered secrets of Scorchvale Ridge, shadowed by a past of strength and fear.
Later, in a private chamber, Haven sat with his parents and Cedric, candlelight flickering on tapestries of snarling wolves. Thorne leaned forward, his thorned crown glinting. "Some must go, Haven. Who stays?" Evelyn added, "Aria's grace charms, Riven's strength holds promise, Ember's fire intrigues, yet that flare… troubling."
Haven, his black tunic rumpled, weighed his choices, his golden eyes thoughtful. "Seven must leave," he said, voice steady but heavy. "Mira and Lira—their twin flames are stunning, but they're too entwined, a single heart split in two. I seek one mate. Veyra and Bree—their Aero Claw displays were flawless, but their hearts chase appearance, clinging to Aria's shadow. Tilda's earth barrier held, but her focus is on gowns, not duty. Coral's water mist healed, but her grace is shallow, more pose than purpose. Sylva, an Aero Claw, wove a precise breeze, but her depth is lost in Aria's orbit."
Cedric nodded, his spectacles glinting as he marked his notebook. "Wise, my prince. Their displays dazzled, but lacked the soul of a queen. Aria's poise could steady a throne, Riven's earth grounds alliances, Ember's fire tells stories, even with the flare. Sara's weave is art, quiet but true." His voice softened, his fondness for Sara hidden behind scholarly tone.
Thorne grunted, his amber eyes narrowing. "Ember's flare risks instability, but her heart protects. Aria captivates the court, Riven endures. Choose carefully, Haven."
Haven's thoughts drifted to Ember, her fire a pull he couldn't name, tempered by the shadow of Kadyn's name on her lips. "The thirteen who stay—Ember, Sara, Sable, Aria, Flow, Marina, Riven, Avani, Liora, Brooke, Seris, Nerys, Eldra—have hearts that challenge and unite. The others… their gifts honor their packs, but not the crown."
Thorne rose, his voice firm. "Announce it tonight. The court must see your resolve." Evelyn smiled, her eyes on Aria's potential. "The Spirits guide you, my son."
The hall reconvened, the air tense as Thorne's voice boomed. "Seven girls, not capturing the prince's heart, will return home." Haven stood, his expression kind but resolute. "Mira, Lira, Veyra, Bree, Tilda, Coral, Sylva—your gifts shine, but my choice seeks a queen to unify the packs." The named girls stood, Mira and Lira clutching hands, Veyra and Bree whispering to Marina, who stayed, her loyalty to Aria unbroken. The thirteen remaining felt survival's weight, Aria's minions' murmurs fading as Vera led us out, the elements' pull still haunting me, a destiny shadowed by secrets.