The storm had not yet broken.
Rain still whispered against the pack house roof, a steady, hollow rhythm that filled the silence between every breath.
Garrick moved through the dim corridors like a shadow, his boots making no sound on the worn stone floor. The Alpha's words still rang in his mind — Fate belongs to those bold enough to claim it.
He could not tell if it was wisdom or madness.
The meeting chamber was empty now, candles burned to stubs. Only two figures waited by the fire — Elder Miriam, calm and watchful, and Elder Taren, his pale eyes catching the firelight like a wolf's in the dark.
Miriam looked up first. "You came sooner than I expected."
"I couldn't wait," Garrick said. His voice was low, steady — but something in it trembled beneath the surface. "You were right. He's hiding more than guilt."
Taren grunted, folding his hands on his cane. "Speak plainly, Beta. What did he tell you?"
Garrick hesitated. Even now, part of him wanted to stay loyal. But loyalty to Roran had already cost too much.
He exhaled slowly. "Elara isn't cursed. She's powerful — too powerful. Roran said she's Bloodbane by birth. That her bloodline can heal… and bend fate itself."
The elders stared at him in silence. Only the fire crackled, a single log collapsing into embers.
Finally, Miriam whispered, "The Bloodbane line was erased generations ago. No one survived."
"She did," Garrick said. "And Roran knew it all along. He didn't save her — he claimed her. He's kept her hidden, waiting for her power to awaken. Kael Thorn must have sensed it. That's why he wants her back."
Taren let out a long, raspy breath. "The fool. He thought he could hoard the Moon's gift for himself."
Then, after a moment, a thin smile crept across his face. "But perhaps the fool had the right idea."
Garrick's gaze snapped toward him. "You can't mean—"
"Think, Beta," Taren interrupted. "If the girl truly carries the power to alter fate, to heal what should die… imagine what Silvercrest could become. No more sickness. No more weakness. We could rule beyond these forests."
Miriam frowned but didn't deny it. "He's right. Kael won't stop until he finds her. And if he does, he'll use her to rebuild what Bloodbane lost. But if we keep her — if we bind her to Silvercrest — her power remains ours."
Garrick's voice hardened. "You speak as if she's a weapon."
"She is," Taren said simply. "One crafted by the Goddess herself."
Miriam leaned closer, her expression thoughtful. "We don't need to fight Roran for control. We only need to keep Elara close enough that she can't be taken. There's one way to do that."
Garrick's eyes narrowed. "What way?"
"Her bond," Miriam said quietly. "Kieran. He rejected her once, yes — but the bond remains, faint though it may be. If he's bound to her again, by vow if not by heart, she becomes untouchable. Kael cannot claim what's already mated within Silvercrest."
Taren nodded, pleased. "A political union. The perfect solution. The pack gains her power, and the Alpha keeps his pride."
Garrick stared into the fire. The flames hissed and spat, as if in warning.
"She's not a tool," he said, his voice low. "She's just a girl."
Taren's smirk deepened. "Then let her believe she's loved. Wolves fight harder when they think it's for the heart."
Miriam's tone softened, but her words cut just as deep. "It's for the pack, Garrick. One life, for the survival of all. We can't afford to think with pity."
Garrick turned away, jaw tightening. Outside, thunder rolled again — distant, but drawing nearer.
He didn't answer them. Because deep down, he knew they'd already decided.
Later, when he stepped back into the storm, Garrick felt the cold rain bite against his skin.
The pack house loomed behind him, its lights flickering like dying stars.
Above the storm, a howl rose — Elara's, though she didn't know why she called to the night.
Somewhere inside her, fate stirred — restless, waiting, sensing the plans that would soon bind her to chains she could not see.