~Hector's POV~
The noise outside drills into my skull. It rises and falls like a storm against stone. I can't catch every word, but I know what they want. Blood.
A soft knock taps the door.
"Who is that?" I called.
"My Alpha."
"Enter."
One of my guards steps in. He wears a thick leather tunic patched with iron plates at the chest. A round wooden shield hangs on his back. An iron helm shadows his brow. A short spear rests in his grip. Mud cakes his boots.
He bows his head.
"My Alpha. The majority of the pack is gathered. They are making noise. Some elders and the Wolfcrown delegation stand with them. They request your presence."
My jaw tightens.
"Return to your duty," I say.
He bends again and leaves.
I turn to Savannah. She lies on the bed, pale and watching. Her fingers clutch the blanket. Her eyes seek mine.
"It's only noise," I tell her. My voice is steady. "Rest. No one will harm you."
Her fingers loosen a fraction. That small trust is enough.
I step into my chamber. The oak door closes. A narrow window slits gray light across the floor. My bed is a heavy plank with a wool mattress. A fur lies folded at the end. The stone is cool underfoot.
I pull on a clean tunic and belt. I lift my Alpha cloak from the peg. Thick wool. Dark. Fur at the collar. I settle it over my shoulders. The weight reminds me of the line I carry.
The shouting grows.
I walk the corridor. My boots hit the stone in even beats. Each step answers the cry beyond the walls. I do not hurry. I do not rush.
Guards bow as I pass. Their heads dip without a glance from me. I keep my eyes straight.
The courtyard opens.
The crowd presses the gate. The pack fills the yard. Children sit on their shoulders. Old men stand with staff. Young warriors clutch branches like crude banners. They shout as one.
"Kill this monster or Moon-Kingdom divide!"
The chant hits like a wave.
The council stands between the gate and the hall. Anders is at the front. Wolfcrown men cluster near him. A hard line of faces waits.
I step into view.
"Enough."
The single word slices the air.
Silence drops at once. Even the wind seems to still. All eyes fix on me.
I face the council. "Why are you protesting?" I ask. "Why take this to the gate?"
Anders steps forward. His shoulders are squared.
"Our Alpha," he says. "You feel our pain. The people are not pleased with the choice you made last night. We are disappointed."
A murmur runs through the crowd.
"Nobody is above the law," he goes on. "Savannah killed our kin. She must answer as any would. You spared her because of prophecy. That is why we stand here."
A woman near the front squeezes her branch so hard it cracks.
I lift my voice.
"I'm not blind. I feel your pain," I say. "But we need wisdom now. If we let hatred rule us we will make mistakes that last generations."
A few heads tilt. Some whisper.
"Have you forgotten our prayer nights?" I ask. "How many years have we spent seeking the Messenger? Do you know what it means if we kill what the Moon sends?"
Silence deepens. Some bow their heads. A few still glare.
Anders answers, voice tight. "We remember. But she came at the worst time. What of Justin's family? How do we tell them justice is done?"
The name moves through the crowd like a wound.
"I understand," I say. "Their loss burns in us. But if Savannah dies, that is another grave. Two graves will not heal one wound. If she is truly sent by the Moon, killing her will stain us before all packs."
A man at the back shouts, "And if she kills again?"
The question is sharp.
"If she does," I say, "I will answer for it. I am your Alpha. The burden is mine."
My palm presses to my chest and a thin ache runs under my ribs. The ache is the weight of possible failure. It is small and private. I do not let it change my voice.
"The Messenger appears in hard times," I continue. "That is how our Creator moves. I do not defend her because I seek a mate. I defend this because the Messenger may hold meaning we cannot yet see."
The anger shifts. Branches lower an inch. Voices drop.
A branch sails from the back and thunks against the gate. Heads snap up. The sound could have undone me. For a moment the yard trembles. I do not blink. I do not let the moment crack me.
Anders' fingers go slack. The branch falls from his hand like a dropped oath. He looks down as if the ground has swallowed his certainty. The sight steals the crowd.
I step closer to the gate.
"Have you forgotten our curse?" I ask. "We shift in pain. We bleed when we change. We cry as if we have sinned. What if she ends that course? What if through her everything changes?"
The words settle.
"We must think deeper. We cannot let hunger for revenge guide us. Our enemies watch. If we divide, we fall."
A Wolfcrown elder moves uneasily. The air smells like smoke and old grudges.
"We need strength. We need patience."
I raise my voice like a commander giving a ward. "We rise together. We are Moon-Kingdom. We are a Union."
Before I finish, the cry returns but with a new tone.
"We are Moon-Kingdom!"
The shout rolls through the yard. Branches fall. Men clap shoulders. Pride threads into the sound. The chant grows proud instead of wrathful.
A few remain stiff, but they are quieter. Anders lowers his gaze. His jaw works. The heat leaves his face a degree.
I nod once.
"Return to your homes," I ordered. "Keep peace. Trust your Alpha."
They begin to move. Slow, then steady. Families turn. The gate thins. Voices fall to small talk. Branches scrape stone and are cast down.
A cold breeze brushes my face. My cloak flaps. The weight on my shoulders eases but does not vanish.
I turn to the council. "We meet in the hall."
They follow. Not all with eagerness. The wolfcrown delegation found a place to sit in the courtyard while waiting for us.
We enter the Elders Hall. The low domed roof holds our steps. Thick doors shut the yard away. Narrow windows slit thin light. The stone floor is cool underfoot.
We passed the passage to the meeting room. A round timber table waits. Chairs ring it. The underground arch yawns near the third pillar.
We sat.
I force a small smile. Calm is part of the work.
I stand and move to Anders. I fold the edge of his robe as if to steady him.
"My lovely father," I say quietly, "everything will be alright."
He exhales but does not answer.
We begin with the pack. We plan how to keep peace. We assign men to talk with those who still burn. We set days for meetings in the settlements.
We move to compensation. Grain from the store. Livestock for mourning. Labor sent to heal fields. Public apologies written and read. Practical mercy must follow words.
We must speak to Wolfcrown. I appoint envoys and gifts. We will go with clear intent. We will kneel if the talks require it. Pride will not bind our hands.
Some elders agree fast. Others nod with reluctance. I see the lines of doubt in their faces. They accept, but not all with warmth.
Next we speak of Savannah.
"Crown her," Thalia says. "If she is the Messenger, the pack must see it."
Our law is plain. Luna must be crowned within seven days of the mate bond revelation. Any day after is forbidden.
We count the time.
"Three days from now," I decided. "We prepare at once. The Luna Ascension Rite will be in three days."
There is a pause. Then slow nods.
It is settled.
I rest my palms flat on the table and look at the elders' faces.
"I will crown Savannah as Luna — and then, we will wait to see whether the Moon sent a savior or a wound."