Chapter 4: Trials of the Chosen

The council chambers were colder than the dungeons.

Carved from obsidian and ancient stone, the room sat at the heart of the Darkfang fortress—a relic from before Kael’s time, before any of them. Fires burned in shallow braziers, their heat swallowed by the cavernous walls. Seven thrones lined the semicircle facing Kael’s own. Aria stood at his side, her heart hammering like a war drum.

The Council had arrived.

Kael stood tall, his expression carved from granite. Aria could feel the tension radiating from his frame. He didn’t fear these men and women—but he respected the power they wielded. Their decisions could not be overturned. Their judgments had shaped the course of entire packs, razed bloodlines, and elevated Alphas to kings. They were the will of the old laws.

The oldest of them, a gaunt man with sunken cheeks and a gaze like winter, leaned forward.

“Alpha Kael. You summoned us to witness a bond.”

“I did,” Kael said.

He turned to Aria. She stepped forward, spine straight, eyes burning with quiet defiance.

The elder’s eyes narrowed. “A girl from a fallen pack. Mooncrest’s last heir. She should be dead.”

“I’m very much alive,” Aria said evenly.

“And mated to a Darkfang Alpha?” another scoffed, a female with eyes like polished onyx. “This is no bond. It’s a threat. A manipulation of fate.”

Kael’s voice cut through the room. “The bond was not chosen. It was fated. The Moon Goddess marked her as mine.”

“The Moon Goddess makes mistakes,” muttered a third, an older Beta lord from the Iceborn territories.

Aria’s wolf surged. She stepped forward again.

“I lost everything in your war,” she said. “But I didn’t die. And I won’t apologize for surviving. You think I’m a threat? Then let me prove my worth.”

A murmur rippled through the Council.

The gaunt elder’s lips curled. “You wish to prove yourself worthy of being Luna of Darkfang?”

“I do,” she said.

“Then let the trials begin.”

---

The trials were older than any living wolf.

Forged in blood, bone, and divine law, they were designed to test a Luna’s strength—physically, mentally, spiritually. Few dared to undergo them. Fewer passed. And even fewer survived all three.

Kael had tried to object. He didn’t want Aria to be put through such cruelty. But she silenced him with a look.

“If I’m going to stand beside you, I’ll earn it,” she had said.

And so, the fortress prepared.

Three trials. Three nights. No help. No mercy.

The moon watched.

The wolves waited.

---

Trial One: The Hunt of Shadows

On the first night, Aria was taken to the eastern cliffs, where the wind howled like banshees and the forest pulsed with ancient magic. She was led by silent warriors to the edge of the Darkwood, a forest cursed with illusions and predatory beasts.

A sacred creature, corrupted by shadow, had been released deep into the woods. Her task was simple: track it, kill it, and bring its heart to the altar before dawn.

She was given no weapons. Only her wolf.

They stripped her down to her skin, marked her with ash and sigils of the old tongue, and sent her into the trees.

The moment she stepped past the threshold, the world changed.

The trees seemed taller, the shadows deeper. The very air whispered lies. Aria moved carefully, relying on her instincts and her wolf senses. Hours passed in silence. She was being hunted as much as she hunted.

Then it attacked.

A creature of mist and fang, its body warped by dark magic. Twice her size, fur bristling with thorns, and eyes glowing red with rage. It lunged from the canopy above, and Aria shifted mid-leap, her white wolf meeting it with a roar.

They fought beneath the moon—claw to claw, teeth to flesh. It tore her shoulder; she cracked its jaw. Blood sprayed across the ferns. The creature was relentless, its form flickering between shadow and substance. Aria had to rely on instinct, not sight.

She was thrown against a tree, ribs bruised. She rose, staggered, then charged again. A deep bite to its neck, a slash through its chest—and finally, it collapsed. She howled into the night, her voice echoing through the forest.

At dawn, Aria returned, limping, bloodied but victorious, with the beast’s heart clenched in her human hands.

The Council said nothing.

But they watched.

---

Trial Two: The Mirror of Truth

On the second night, she was brought to the Mirror Hall—an ancient chamber sealed beneath the mountain. Inside were mirrors, each enchanted to show not reflection, but fear. Doubt. Guilt. Pain.

Here, her mind would be tested.

Alone, she entered.

The doors were sealed behind her.

Instantly, the mirrors began to shimmer.

She saw her mother screaming, trapped beneath the rubble of Mooncrest’s hall.

She saw Kael, turning away as the Council sentenced her to death.

She saw herself, chained, feral, bloodied—unloved and forgotten.

“You are a weakness,” the mirrors whispered. “You are an orphan. A mate of convenience. A broken girl pretending to be a queen.”

She clenched her fists. Her knees buckled, but she didn’t fall.

More visions came: Kael choosing another. Her childless. Her betrayed.

“I am broken,” Aria whispered. “But I am not beaten.”

She stepped closer to the largest mirror.

“I am hunted—but not afraid. I am more than his mate. I am my own wolf.”

She raised her hand—and punched straight through the glass.

The shards exploded outward. The spell shattered.

The door creaked open.

The Council waited outside, expressionless.

“She broke the mirror?” one of them asked in disbelief.

“She faced herself,” said the gaunt elder.

---

Trial Three: The Blade of Loyalty

The final trial was the cruelest.

The Trial of Loyalty.

They brought Kael before her, bound in silver chains, his body marked with shallow cuts. His eyes were clear, his head held high.

A ceremonial blade was placed in her hands.

“Prove your loyalty to the Council,” the gaunt elder said. “Spill his blood. Or reject your bond.”

Gasps rose from the warriors watching.

Aria’s hands shook. Not from fear—but from fury.

She looked into Kael’s eyes. They said nothing, but in them, she saw only trust.

“I won’t beg,” he said quietly.

“You’re not supposed to,” she whispered.

She turned to the Council.

“You think this bond is weakness? It isn’t. It’s the strongest thing I have. I didn’t ask for it. I didn’t want it. But it’s mine.”

She dropped the blade.

“And I will not trade my soul for your approval.”

A long silence followed.

Then the gaunt elder rose slowly.

“You have passed,” he said, his voice barely audible.

The crowd erupted in gasps. Even some of the warriors looked shocked.

Kael was unchained.

And Aria…

She was declared Luna of Darkfang.

---

That night, as the fortress buzzed with rumors and whispers, Aria stood on the balcony outside Kael’s chambers. The moon was high, silver light casting her in an ethereal glow. Her body still ached. Her soul even more so.

Kael joined her in silence.

“You should rest,” he said softly.

“I will,” she replied. “But not yet.”

He studied her face. “You’ve changed.”

“I had to.”

He reached for her hand. She let him take it.

“I won’t let them hurt you again,” he said.

She turned to him. “Then don’t become one of them.”

Their eyes locked.

There, between them, the bond pulsed. It wasn’t gentle. It was wild. Fierce. Like the storms, they both carried within.

And for the first time, Aria didn’t feel like a prisoner.

She felt like a queen.