Chapter 7

Elara Thorne POV:

A wave of relief washed over me at Elspeth's invitation. I clutched the stone pot and took a step toward the Elder's door. I had won.

But Jax was not finished. Seeing his chance slip away, he made one last, desperate gamble.

"Don't listen to her!" he shrieked, his voice cracking. "She's lying! Look at the bruises on her! She made a deal with another rogue pack, and they beat her when it went bad! This food is from them!"

He was pointing at the faint, old marks on my arms, the lingering shadows of malnutrition and exhaustion. The crowd hesitated, their newfound sympathy wavering. Doubt crept back into their eyes.

I stopped. I didn't turn to argue. I didn't need to.

Instead, I let my body sway, just slightly. A flicker of pain, real or imagined, crossed my face. I brought my free hand to my stomach, pressing gently as if to quell a sudden cramp. I didn't say a word, but my posture screamed of a mother, hungry and hurt, using her last ounce of strength to protect an offering for her children's future.

It was a performance born from years of genuine suffering.

An older she-wolf in the crowd, Martha Croft, finally snapped. "That's enough, Jax!" she barked, her voice thick with disgust. "Look at her! The woman is wasting away. Whatever mistakes she's made, it is for the Alpha to judge, not a rogue like you!"

Her words broke the dam. A chorus of agreement rose from the other mothers in the crowd.

"Her pups are starving. What choice does she have?"

"It's true, Alpha Ryker has been gone too long. Someone needs to look after them."

The tide of public opinion turned, this time for good, and it crashed down on Jax. He had tried to use my weakness against me, but he had only succeeded in reminding everyone of my suffering.

I chose that moment to look at the crowd, my eyes shimmering with unshed tears. I gave a small, weak bow. "Thank you," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. "I just... I want my children to live."

It was the final blow. Every heart, even the hardest, broke for the fierce, desperate mother.

Jax was now the villain, the bully. All eyes were on him, burning with condemnation. His two companions, Clara and Lena, saw which way the wind was blowing. They melted back into the crowd, abandoning him.

He stood alone, his face shifting from red to white. He shot me a look of pure venom, then turned and fled, unable to bear the weight of their collective scorn.

As he disappeared, I allowed myself to lean heavily against the doorframe, my act of a fragile victor complete.

Elspeth descended the single step from her home. Her hand, warm and surprisingly strong, took my arm. "The show is over, child," she said, her voice low and full of a knowing wisdom. "Come. Bram is waiting."

She guided me inside, her body supporting mine. To the watching pack, I was a pitiable creature being led to safety. A weak Omega who had, against all odds, won the day.

Inside, Elspeth shut the heavy wooden door, plunging us into the warm, herb-scented dimness of the Elder's home. The noise of the crowd faded away.

She released my arm and looked me up and down, a slow, appraising gaze. A small, wry smile touched her lips.

"Alright, little wolf," she said, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "There are no more spectators. You can stand up straight now."