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The guest quarters were a cold, stone-walled room buried deep in the Nightfang stronghold, far from the torchlit grandeur of the courtyard. A single window, high and narrow, let in a sliver of moonlight that painted the floor in pale streaks. Liora sat on the edge of a narrow cot, her borrowed cloak still wrapped tightly around her shoulders. The chill of the room was nothing compared to the ache in her chest, where the bond-fractured but not fully severed-pulsed like a bruise.
Torin lingered by the door, his green eyes soft with concern. His half-elf heritage showed in the faint point of his ears and the way his movements carried a quiet grace, at odds with the raw strength of the wolves around them. "You should rest," he said, his voice low. "The council won't convene until dawn. You'll need your strength."
Liora shook her head, her silver hair catching the moonlight. "Rest? After that?" Her voice cracked, betraying the tears she'd fought to keep at bay. "He rejected me, Torin. In front of his entire pack. Selys promised me a purpose, a partner. And now..." She trailed off, her fingers digging into the rough wool of the cloak.
Torin crossed the room in two strides and knelt before her, his hands resting lightly on the cot's edge. "Kael's a fool, Liora. But he's not the entirety of this pack, nor of Selys's will. You felt that power in the courtyard. You cracked stone with barely a thought. That's not the mark of someone frail."
She met his gaze, searching for a lie in his words, but found only earnestness. "It wasn't enough for him," she whispered. "He looked at me like I was nothing."
Torin's jaw tightened. "Kael's carrying the weight of a pack on the edge of fracture. The Nightfangs have been at odds with the other clans for years, and the Void's whispers have only made it worse. He's afraid, even if he won't admit it. Rejecting you was easier than facing what you represent."
"And what's that?" Liora asked, her voice sharp with bitterness. "A human who doesn't belong? A goddess's mistake?"
Torin's lips quirked, a hint of a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Change. Hope. Something bigger than his pride." He stood, brushing dust from his knees. "Get some sleep, Liora. Tomorrow, you'll face the council. Show them what you showed the courtyard. Show them Selys chose right."
He left her then, the heavy wooden door creaking shut behind him. Liora lay back on the cot, staring at the shadowed ceiling. The bond still thrummed faintly, a cruel reminder of Kael's rejection. She closed her eyes, willing herself to sleep, but her mind replayed the moment-his cold words, the pack's jeers, the crack of stone beneath her feet. That last part stirred something in her, a spark of defiance. She wasn't nothing. She wasn't a mistake.
Sleep came in fragments, haunted by visions of the Void. In her dreams, it wasn't the shapeless darkness from her village's destruction, but a figure-a woman with eyes like black stars, her voice a hiss that promised oblivion. You cannot stop what is already begun, the figure whispered, her form dissolving into smoke as Liora reached for her light.
She woke with a start, her heart pounding. The room was still dark, the moonlight fainter now. A soft knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts. She sat up, smoothing her hair, and called, "Who's there?"
The door opened, revealing a girl no older than sixteen, her dark braids framing a face marked by freckles and wary brown eyes. She carried a tray with a steaming bowl of stew and a hunk of bread. "I'm Mira," she said, her voice quiet but steady. "Torin sent me. Said you'd need food before the council."
Liora took the tray, the warmth of the bowl grounding her. "Thank you, Mira. You didn't have to."
Mira shrugged, lingering by the door. "Not many here would've bothered. Most think you're trouble." Her eyes flicked to Liora's silver hair, then away. "But Torin's different. He sees things others don't."
Liora spooned a bite of stew, the rich flavor of herbs and venison surprising her. "And what do you think?" she asked, studying the girl.
Mira hesitated, then squared her shoulders. "I think the goddess doesn't choose lightly. And I think Kael's wrong to push you away. But he's our Alpha, and his word is law." Her voice held a note of frustration, quickly masked. "Eat fast. The council's gathering soon."
Liora nodded, finishing the meal in silence. Mira's words echoed Torin's-Kael was wrong, but he was still Alpha. The weight of that truth settled heavily as she followed Mira through the stronghold's winding halls. The air grew warmer as they approached the council chamber, the scent of burning cedar mingling with the musk of wolves.
The chamber was a cavernous space, its walls carved with runes that glowed faintly under torchlight. A long table dominated the center, surrounded by seven figures: Kael, Sylva, and five others Liora didn't recognize. Their eyes turned to her as she entered, a mix of curiosity, skepticism, and outright hostility. Kael sat at the head, his expression unreadable, though the bond tugged at Liora's chest, a faint echo of the pain from last night.
Sylva spoke first, her voice cutting through the silence. "The human claims to be Selys's chosen, yet she brings no proof beyond a flicker of light and a tale of doom. Why should we trust her over our Alpha's judgment?"
Liora's hands clenched at her sides, but she forced her voice steady. "I've seen the Void. It's not a tale-it's real. It burned my village, killed my family. Selys showed me its spread, a darkness that will swallow every pack if we don't unite."
A grizzled man with a scar across his cheek-Garrick, the pack's warleader-leaned forward. "Visions are cheap, girl. Druids peddle them for coin. What makes yours true?"
Liora's temper flared, and with it, her magic. The runes on the walls pulsed brighter, and a faint glow enveloped her hands. "Does this look cheap to you?" she snapped. The air in the chamber grew heavy, the wolves shifting uneasily. Even Kael's eyes widened, though he quickly masked it.
"Control yourself," he said, his voice low but firm. "You're in our stronghold, not your village's ruins."
The words stung, but Liora held his gaze. "I'm here because Selys sent me. You can reject me as your mate, Kael, but you can't reject the goddess's will. The Void is coming, and I'm the only one who's seen it clearly."
Sylva scoffed, but an older woman with silver-streaked hair-Eldra, the pack's seer-raised a hand for silence. "There's truth in her words," Eldra said, her voice raspy but commanding. "I've felt tremors in the earth, whispers in the moonlight. Something stirs, and it's not of this world."
The council murmured, the tension shifting. Liora seized the moment. "Let me prove myself. Give me a task, a trial-anything. I'll show you I'm no frail outsider."
Kael's eyes narrowed, the bond flickering with something unreadable-anger, perhaps, or reluctant respect. "A trial," he said slowly. "Very well. The Fangwood holds an ancient shrine to Selys, guarded by spirits of the old pack. If you're truly her chosen, you'll retrieve the Moonstone from its altar. Alone."
Sylva's smirk returned. "The Fangwood's spirits don't take kindly to intruders. Especially humans."
Liora's stomach twisted, but she nodded. "I'll do it."
The council adjourned, and Torin caught her arm as she left the chamber. "The Fangwood's no small challenge," he warned. "Those spirits are fierce, and the forest is thick with dangers. You don't have to do this."
"I do," Liora said, her voice firm despite the fear gnawing at her. "Not for Kael, not even for Selys. For me."
Torin studied her, then nodded. "I'll help you prepare. Meet me at the armory at dusk."
As Liora returned to her quarters, the bond pulsed again, a faint thread of warmth that refused to die. She pushed it down, focusing on the trial ahead. The Moonstone, the Fangwood, the spirits-whatever awaited her, she would face it. And when she returned, Kael would see her not as a human, but as a force.