The council chamber was a place of judgment.
Aria had never been inside it before, but the moment she stepped across the threshold, a chill ran down her spine. The walls were built of stone so old they seemed to bleed history, the ceilings high and arched as though the very moonlight presided over every decision. Wolves had been condemned here. Leaders stripped of their power. Lives ended.
Tonight, she feared, it was her turn.
The long table of carved oak stretched down the center of the chamber. At its head sat Elder Roran, his white hair gleaming in the torchlight, his gaze sharp as steel. Around him, the rest of the council sat in silence, their expressions masks of skepticism and disdain. Warriors lined the walls, their shadows tall and watchful.
Aria's footsteps echoed as Damian led her forward. He walked beside her like a shadow, silent but radiating authority, every line of his body rigid with controlled fury. His hand brushed hers once, deliberately, reminding her that she was not alone—even if the entire world wanted her gone.
When they reached the center of the chamber, Roran spoke. His voice carried like a blade, sharp and precise.
"You stand before this council accused not of crime, but of danger." His gaze swept over Aria, dissecting her, stripping her bare. "A human bound to our Alpha. A bond that should not exist. And now, power—unnatural, unclaimed—has revealed itself. With a single word, you felled a rogue stronger than most warriors here. Tell me, girl… what are you?"
Aria's throat tightened. The weight of a dozen stares pressed on her, waiting for her to falter. She wanted to shrink, to disappear, but something inside her stirred. The same force that had frozen the rogue, the same power she didn't understand, demanded she hold her ground.
"I don't know," she said honestly, her voice trembling but clear. "I didn't ask for this. I didn't choose it. But if I saved Damian—if I saved your Alpha—doesn't that mean I'm not your enemy?"
Murmurs spread across the chamber, some voices uncertain, others dismissive.
Roran leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "Or perhaps it means you are the greatest threat of all. Power without origin is power without loyalty. And loyalty is what keeps a pack alive."
At that, Damian spoke, his voice a low growl that silenced the chamber.
"She is my mate. That alone should be enough to secure her place."
The council shifted, discomfort clear. One of the elders, a sharp-eyed woman named Selene, spoke next. "We do not question the bond, Alpha. We question whether a bond to her is worth the risk of dividing your pack. Already, whispers spread. Warriors doubt you. Some question your ability to lead. You would sacrifice unity for a girl you barely know?"
Aria flinched, but Damian's hand closed around hers. His voice was iron when he answered.
"I would sacrifice nothing. She is mine, and I will protect her with everything I have. Anyone who questions that is free to challenge me."
The silence that followed was electric, heavy with the weight of unspoken challenge. No one rose. No one dared. Yet the unease did not vanish.
Roran's gaze flicked to Aria, and for the first time, something like curiosity softened his expression. "There is another path," he said slowly. "If the girl's power can be proven loyal—if she can serve the pack rather than endanger it—perhaps she may remain."
Aria's heart skipped. "Proven… how?"
Roran's smile was cold. "Trial by moonlight. An ancient rite. If you survive, the pack will accept you. If you fail…" He let the silence finish his sentence.
Damian's growl shook the chamber. "You will not subject her to that barbaric tradition."
But Aria stepped forward, surprising even herself. "I'll do it."
The words left her lips before she could take them back.
Damian turned to her, fury blazing in his eyes. "No. Aria, you don't understand—"
"I understand enough," she said, her voice steady despite the storm inside her. "The pack will never accept me unless I prove myself. And if this trial is the only way, then I'll face it."
His hand tightened on hers, as though he could anchor her to him. His voice dropped, rough and low, meant for her alone. "You'll be torn apart."
Her chest ached at the fear in his eyes. "Maybe. But I won't hide, Damian. Not anymore."
The council erupted in whispers, some impressed, others hungry for her downfall. Roran's voice cut through them all.
"Then it is decided. At the next full moon, the trial shall take place. The girl will face the shadows, and the moon will judge if she belongs."
The decision rang through the chamber like a verdict of death.
When the council dismissed them, Damian all but dragged Aria from the chamber, his fury simmering so close to the surface she thought he might explode. He didn't speak until they were back in his study, the door slamming shut behind them.
"Do you have any idea what you've agreed to?" His voice was sharp, but underneath it was fear, raw and unguarded.
Aria lifted her chin, though her hands trembled. "I have an idea. Enough to know it's the only chance I have. If the pack sees me as weak, they'll never stop coming for me. But if I face this trial—if I survive—it changes everything."
He stalked closer, his presence overwhelming. "You think survival is possible? Even seasoned wolves have died in the trial. And you…" His voice cracked, his hand brushing her cheek as though he couldn't help himself. "You're too precious to risk."
The word caught her off guard. Precious.
Her chest tightened, her resolve wavering at the tenderness in his tone. "I'm not precious, Damian. I'm dangerous. You saw it. They saw it. If I don't prove myself, they'll never stop until I'm gone."
His thumb lingered against her skin, his eyes burning into hers. The bond thrummed, pulling them closer, unraveling the walls he'd built. For a heartbeat, she thought he would kiss her. She wanted him to.
But then he pulled back, his jaw hardening. "I can't watch you walk into that trial. I won't."
"You don't have a choice," she said softly. "Neither of us does."
The silence stretched, heavy with everything they couldn't say. Outside, the moon rose higher, casting its pale light across the floor. In two weeks, it would be full. And when it was, Aria would either prove herself worthy of the pack—or die trying.
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