The Pack Hall smelled of smoke and fear. Candles flickered along the walls, casting long shadows that seemed to twist and grow as the wolves inside whispered behind their teeth. Elara stood in the center of the room, hands clenched at her sides, shoulders tight, her gaze calm on the floor even as the weight of dozens of accusing eyes pressed against her.
The council had convened in secret, their murmurs rising into sharp, cutting words when they realized she was not going to speak first.
"She's cursed," Maera hissed, stepping forward. "She's brought misfortune to Silvercrest. Two missing scouts. Injuries on patrol. Nothing goes right where she walks. The Moon marked her wrong, or maybe she carries some dark taint. She cannot remain."
Elara's wolf stirred beneath her skin, quiet but tense. They've forgotten everything else but fear.
"I have done nothing wrong," Elara said calmly. Her voice echoed through the hall, quiet but firm. "The accidents you speak of are not caused by me. You blame what you cannot control. Fear makes shadows of truth, and whispers of lies. I am not your curse."
A snort echoed from the far side of the room. "Words are easy, Hale," a warrior said. "But what of the blood? The scouts? You cannot deny the pattern. The pack suffers because of you. The Council has decided."
Her chest tightened. She had known this day could come, but it still hit like a blow.
"You cannot sentence me for what is not mine to bear," she said, lifting her chin.
"Enough!" Alpha Damon's voice cut through the room like a blade. He had been silent, his expression unreadable, but now it shifted into something colder, sharper. "Elara Hale, for the safety of Silvercrest, the council has voted. Your pack mark will be removed. You will be stripped of your status, stripped of protection, and held until it is decided if you are to leave the territory permanently."
The words landed with the weight of a falling boulder. Rogue. Unmarked. Alone.
Elara's stomach dropped, her wolf recoiling in silent fury. They cannot do this to us. They cannot erase what the Moon wove.
"Wait," she said, voice steady despite the roar in her chest. "You cannot do this. The Moon bonded me—whether you see it or not. The bond is real. And no pack vote can erase it."
Damon's hand rose, and the room quieted instantly. "You will speak when spoken to, Hale. Your bond, as you call it, does not protect you from the will of your pack."
Chains were brought forward, meant to bind her wrists. Elara lifted her hands, unflinching. Her wolf bristled, coiled and silent, warning her of every tremor in the air.
Just as the guards moved in, the hall doors burst open.
One of the scouts—breathless, eyes wide with urgency—rushed forward. "Alpha! Alpha Damon!" he called. "The Blackridge borders… Alpha Kael is requesting your presence immediately. He demands it!"
The hall froze. Every eye turned to the scout, then back to the Alpha.
Damon's expression darkened. "Kael Thorn?" he muttered under his breath. "Here?"
"Yes, sir," the scout said. "He says it is urgent. He will not wait. The pack… he demands you come now."
Murmurs spread like wildfire. Kael Thorn—the mysterious Alpha they had only heard whispers about, the one who had been felt in tremors of fate and power—was calling.
The chains fell away from Elara's wrists as the guards hesitated, uncertainty flickering across their faces.
Damon's gaze swept the room, locking briefly on Elara. "This is not over," he said, low and dangerous. "Stay where you are until I return."
Elara nodded once, voice low. "I will."
As the Alpha and his closest wolves left the hall, the room was left in silence, thick and heavy. The pack's eyes lingered on her, some with suspicion, others with awe, but all with unease.
Elara sank onto the edge of the council platform, wolf curling tight beneath her chest, whispering words she could barely hear over the hammering of her own heartbeat. They would have made you a rogue. They would have taken everything. But something else has arrived. Something stronger than fear.
Outside, the wind howled through the trees, carrying Kael's presence even before his arrival. Something in the forest shifted, unseen but undeniable. The Silvercrest Pack might have tried to claim her, cast her aside, or brand her as a curse—but the thread of fate that tied her to the distant Alpha had already begun to pull.
Her hands clenched into fists, jaw tight. Rogue or not, she was still Elara Hale. And the Moon had not forgotten her.
Even as the pack whispered, wondering what would come next, the first tremor of change rolled through the hall. Something old, powerful, and patient was moving.
And it was coming for her.