chapter 7

Shadow Plots

Alma and Sylvara walked side by side, their breaths even after the intense conversation by the river. Far from the shouts and tensions of the pack, they had granted themselves a moment of calm, a respite before the storm that awaited them.

But elsewhere, far beyond the den, in a clearing hidden beneath the roots of a massive oak, another council had gathered.

Kaelen stood straight, his dark fur almost blending into the shadows of the gathering. Beside him, two sharp-eyed elders, Oryas, with a grizzled muzzle, and Vekar, with an old scar in his eye, stared gravely at the horizon.

Oryas was the first to speak, his voice filled with a sharp severity.

“This wolf doesn't deserve the throne. She hesitates, she doubts... she will never be worthy of leading the Keibsters.”

Vekar nodded slowly, his tone calmer but just as relentless.

“If she takes over as leader of the pack, she'll weaken us. We can't let that happen.”

Kaelen listened intently, each word reinforcing his own certainty. He stepped forward slightly, his gaze shining with a dangerous gleam.

“If she's a problem, then let's eliminate her,” he murmured. “A mistake can be corrected.”

A heavy silence fell.

The elders looked at each other, exchanging a common thought. Then, Oryas shook his head slowly.

“A Keibster must never attack one of his own. It's the law.”

Kaelen clenched his jaw. He knew this rule, but at that moment, it seemed absurd.

“So what? We let her lead the pack into weakness?”

Vekar let out a long sigh before answering.

“No. We must prove that she is not cut out for this role. We must break her in her test, force her to fail.”

The three wolves exchanged a knowing look.

Their plan was in motion.

Kaelen wouldn't kill her. But he would make sure she failed.

And once she failed, the throne would rightfully revert to him.

The Blood Moon Trial was about to begin.

And Alma had no idea of the dangers that awaited her.

The elders' smiles spoke volumes about their satisfaction. Kaelen's idea was perfect: to leave with Alma on her mission, under the pretext of watching over her, but in reality to orchestrate her failure at every step.

Oryas leaned slightly towards him, his gaze shining with an unhealthy glow.

“If you go with her, you'll control the mission. Ramba will accept without hesitation... after all, she's your fiancée.”

Vekar nodded, his muzzle crinkling in a satisfied grin.

“Her failure will seal her fate. Once she's deemed unworthy, there will be no obstacle to your rise to power.”

Kaelen, who had been motionless until then, let his gaze darken.

“And if she survives… she'll be mine. Willingly or not.”

A silence fell over the clearing. The elders exchanged a knowing glance, their plan taking shape in the shadows.

They just had to wait for Ramba to make the decision official.

Alma was about to leave.

And she would never return as the future Luna. Or if she did, she would be submissive.

Kaelen gave one last cold smile before melting into the shadows.

The trap was set.

The next moon would mark the beginning of his ascension.

And Alma had no idea of the danger closing in on her.

The moon hung high in the sky, its silvery glow bathing the den in a spectral light. All the pack members had gathered at the foot of Chieftain's Rock, their gazes fixed on Alma, waiting for her words.

She took a deep breath, feeling the weight of each stare pressing down on her shoulders. She had no choice. She had to undergo the test not out of conviction, but because it was the only way to preserve some semblance of a future.

As she had agreed with Sylvara, she raised her head and spoke.

“I sincerely apologize for my behavior,” she said, her voice measured but assured. “I accept the mission entrusted to me.”

A murmur rippled through the assembly. Some elders nodded, satisfied with her repentance. Others remained frozen, waiting for what would happen next.

Ramba, perched on his rock, watched his daughter with a look filled with silent pride. He knew she had made the right decision.

But just as the moment seemed to be calming down, a howl tore through the night.

Kaelen, his dark fur bristling, stepped forward abruptly, his eyes shining with suspicion and defiance.

“I don't trust you!” he said, his voice vibrating with a cold intensity.

A shiver ran through Alma, but she didn't look away.

Kaelen continued, his piercing eyes fixed on Ramba.

“As her future Alpha, it is my duty to ensure the success of this mission. I will go with her.”

A silence fell over the assembly.

Alma, troubled, glanced furtively at Sylvara, searching her eyes for an answer, a confirmation that this wasn't a disguised threat.

But Sylvara remained impassive, observing the scene without reacting.

Ramba narrowed his eyes, then after a moment of thought, nodded slowly.

“Fine. You'll accompany Alma.”

The decision was made.

And as the pack slowly dispersed into the shadows, Alma felt a knot form in her stomach.

Kaelen was going to accompany her.

And if he was there… it wasn't to help her.

It was to make sure she failed.

And maybe much more.

The meeting ended in a heavy, almost suffocating tension. The council elders were not moved by Alma's apologies. They had seen her hesitation, her doubt, her heart too tender for a Keibster.

“Only the success of this mission will satisfy us,” Oryas declared, his gaze impenetrable.

Vekar added sharply:

“If she fails, she will never be able to claim the throne again.”

Murmurs rippled through the pack, some young wolves exchanging uncertain glances while others nodded silently.

Alma held her head high, but deep down, she felt that nothing she could say would change their judgment. Her only way to prove her worth was to face the test.

So the meeting ended.

The pack gradually dispersed into the cold night, the shadows fading under the flickering moonlight.

But Alma, she, could not find sleep.

She knew that dawn would mark the beginning of her journey.

And Kaelen, her supposed protector, would be at her side.

One certainty haunted her: this departure was not just a mission.

It was a trap.

A fight where she would have to fight for much more than her survival.

And the worst part was, she was the only one who knew.

The night was cool, the light breeze carrying with it the whispers of the trees. Alma quietly moved away from the den, seeking to calm the tumult that agitated her mind.

She walked without any real goal, until a dark figure appeared in front of her.

Kaelen.

He stood there, as if waiting for her, his gaze shining with a disturbing intensity.

Alma slowed down, hesitant, then, in a breath, she murmured:

“I don't trust you.”

Kaelen didn't blink, but a smile touched his lips.

“You have no other choice,” he replied simply.

His tone was calm, almost amused, but Alma knew that behind this apparent lightness, he hid a dangerous certainty.

She stared into his eyes, refusing to back down.

“I know your intentions are not noble.”

Kaelen stared at her for a moment, then burst into a loud laugh, a cold, sharp laugh that echoed through the silence of the forest.

“You're more perceptive than I thought,” he said before walking away, disappearing into the shadows of the trees.

Alma stood frozen, her heart pounding, knowing she had just confirmed what she had feared all along.

A quiet noise behind her.

Sylvara approached, silent as a ghost.

She whispered, her voice soft but deep:

“You must be very careful. The throne is coveted, and you are right not to trust him.”

Alma felt a shiver run down her spine.

She knew she was alone in this battle, alone against an enemy who claimed to be her ally.

But she couldn't afford to fail.

She had to survive.

And above all… she had to discover the truth.

Before it's too late.

The sun slowly pierced through the forest canopy, casting a golden light over the clearing where the pack had gathered. It was the day of departure.

Alma, standing before her father, listened to his last words of advice with rapt attention. Ramba, despite the harshness of his appearance and words, looked at her with silent pride.

“You are a Keibster,” he told her, his deep voice echoing like an ancient prayer. “You bear a name that must never be sullied. Show them who you are.”

Alma stared at him for a moment, then slowly nodded.

“I’ll come back,” she promised him, her gaze determined.

But as the pack grew restless, Kaelen, who had remained on the sidelines, found himself confronted by Sylvara.

The old she-wolf approached him, her pale eyes filled with a wisdom none of the younger wolves could claim. Her breathing was calm, steady, but her words were sharp.

“You can't do anything against the force of fate,” she murmured. “You still have time to let go of this madness.”

Kaelen stared at her, then a cold smile touched his lips.

“When I am king, you will be the first to be banished.”

Sylvara didn't blink.

She knew the silent war between them had just begun.

And she knew that Alma's future would depend on every step she took from this moment on.

The Blood Moon Trial was about to begin.

And nothing would be easy.

For no one.

The wind blew gently, carrying with it the scent of wood and damp earth. Alma and Kaelen continued running, their steps quick and silent on the carpet of dead leaves. All day, they had crossed the forest without stopping, their goal clear: to reach human territory before nightfall.

As the sun was already fading, the first silhouettes of houses appeared in the distance. Alma slowed instinctively, still out of breath, her gaze fixed on these structures she had never approached so closely.

Kaelen stopped abruptly. His dark fur seemed to melt into the growing shadows, but his gaze was sharp.

“We can't continue in this form,” he said in a low voice.

Alma turned to him, her heart beating a little faster.

“I don't know how to do it,” she admitted.

Kaelen watched her for a moment, then his gaze slid to the pendant hanging around her neck.

“Hold it tight,” he whispered. “And imagine a human form.”

Alma looked down at the object, her fingers gently brushing against it. She'd never had to change. She'd been born a wolf, raised that way. The very idea of looking any different seemed unreal.

But she knew she had no choice.

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to imagine.

A human body.

A slimmer silhouette.

Hands instead of paws.

A different face.

The pendant began to vibrate slightly under her fingers.

And then, in a silent wave, something inside her tr