BLOOD IN THE COUNCIL HALL

The night air was thick, heavy with the weight of unspoken threats, as Joel led Elora toward the Council Hall. The scent of tension was almost suffocating. Every step they took seemed to echo too loudly, drawing the eyes of every pack member lurking in the shadows. Wolves—both in human and shifted forms—stood rigidly along the path, their glowing eyes like burning embers in the darkness.

“Why is she still here?” a voice hissed from somewhere in the crowd.

“She’s a threat to us all,” another murmured, followed by a deeper growl.

“She’s the prophecy. Can’t you feel it? The air itself trembles around her.”

Elora’s stomach twisted painfully. Each whisper struck her like a whip, and though she tried to keep her chin high, her trembling fingers betrayed her nerves. Joel walked ahead of her like a living shield, his tall frame tense with barely restrained fury. His golden eyes flicked across the crowd, and at every glance, murmurs hushed and gazes dropped.

When they reached the massive oak doors of the Council Hall, they creaked open as though groaning under the weight of centuries. Inside, the cavernous space was colder than the night outside. Flames danced in wall-mounted torches, their light casting long, ominous shadows on the stone walls. Seven elders sat in a crescent formation atop a dais, their faces etched with suspicion, disdain, and fear. At the center sat Elder Rowan, his silver hair spilling over his scarred face, his sharp eyes glinting like daggers as they locked on Elora.

“Joel Silverfang,” Rowan’s voice boomed, deep and commanding. “You stand accused of harboring a human—one whose presence has brought chaos and old magic into our sacred lands. Speak before your actions condemn us all.”

Joel’s jaw flexed. “She’s no threat. She’s under my protection.”

Gasps rippled through the chamber like a sudden wind.

“Protection?” sneered Elder Kael, his long fingers drumming against the stone. “Or favoritism?”

“You endanger us all,” spat Elder Nira. “Her presence alone stirs the ancient forces we sealed long ago. Even a fool can sense it.”

Rowan raised a hand, his scarred fingers silencing the others. His eyes narrowed, drilling into Elora like a predator sizing up its prey. “Girl, do you know what you are?”

Elora’s throat felt dry as dust. “I… I’m human,” she said, though the words felt weak even to her own ears.

Rowan’s laugh was low and chilling, echoing against the stone walls. “You believe that? After what you did in the Forbidden Grove?”

Memories flashed in Elora’s mind—the burst of energy, the runes glowing like fire, the Watcher’s voice reverberating in her bones. “I… I don’t know what that was,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Lies,” snarled Elder Kael. “She’s dangerous.”

“She’s untrained,” Joel shot back, his voice sharp as a blade. “That’s all. Her power doesn’t make her a threat. It makes her a target—for rogues, for enemies outside these walls, and apparently for you too.”

Rowan’s eyes hardened like ice. “Enough. You will hand her over to the Council. We will… contain her power before it spreads further.”

Joel stepped forward, his broad shoulders tense, his golden eyes blazing with a fierce light. “You mean kill her.”

Silence fell like a shroud over the hall. No one denied it.

Elora’s heart slammed against her ribs. She wanted to run, scream, do something, but her legs felt like they were sinking in quicksand.

Rowan’s voice turned venomous, his words laced with disdain. “Your emotions blind you, Alpha. If you will not protect this pack from her, we will strip you of your title and do it ourselves.”

Before Joel could respond, a soft but steady voice cut through the heavy air.

“You fear her because you know the truth.”

All eyes turned to the figure who spoke—Elder Maren. The oldest among the Council, her frail form seemed to carry the weight of centuries. White hair framed her lined face, and her pale blue eyes seemed to pierce straight through Elora’s soul.

“I knew her mother,” Maren said quietly, her voice like a ripple across still water.

Gasps tore through the chamber, and even Joel’s head snapped toward Maren in shock.

“She was a brave soul who defied our laws to follow her heart,” Maren continued, stepping forward. “She loved a human… and paid for it with her life.”

Elora’s hands flew to her mouth. Her vision blurred as tears stung her eyes. “That’s not possible… My parents—”

“They raised you,” Maren said gently. “But they weren’t your blood. You are not fully human, Elora. You’re a hybrid—born of two worlds, yet belonging to neither.”

Joel’s expression darkened, his fists clenching at his sides. “You said nothing all these years, Maren.”

“I said nothing because the time wasn’t right,” Maren replied, her voice heavy with sorrow. “But now the prophecy stirs, and she stands at its heart.”

Rowan slammed a hand on the dais, his voice thundering like a storm. “Enough of this sentimentality! Her bloodline is cursed. She must be eliminated before she dooms us all!”

Joel moved in front of Elora, his claws partially shifting, golden eyes burning with unyielding fury. “You’ll have to go through me first.”

A chorus of snarls erupted in the hall. Wolves began to shift in the shadows, their growls rising like a gathering storm. The air thickened with bloodlust and fear.

“Alpha Joel, stand down,” Rowan ordered, his voice cracking like a whip.

Joel didn’t flinch. “Over my dead body.”

The tension was a living thing now, pressing in from every corner.

Then, without warning, the temperature plummeted. The torches flickered wildly as a familiar voice boomed through the chamber.

“Child of the moon and the earth… your trial begins.”

A swirl of shadows erupted in the center of the hall. The Watcher emerged, towering and cloaked in undulating darkness. Its glowing eyes swept across the room, freezing every wolf in place.

“The time for hiding is over, Elora,” it intoned. “The first trial awaits.”

Rowan bared his teeth, pointing a clawed finger at the Watcher. “This is your doing!”

The Watcher ignored him, its voice deep and unyielding. “Come willingly, or the trial will claim all who stand between you and your destiny.”

Elora’s heart pounded as though trying to break free of her chest. She turned to Joel, her eyes wide with fear and determination. His jaw was tight, his golden eyes conflicted.

“You don’t have to go,” he said hoarsely.

“Yes,” she whispered, tears streaking her face. “I do.”

She took a trembling step forward. The shadows curled around her like hungry serpents, and with a rush of cold air, she was gone.

Joel’s roar split the hall, raw and desperate. His claws were fully extended now, his wolf form surging beneath his skin. “ELORA!”

But it was too late. The Watcher and Elora had vanished, leaving only silence and the stench of fear in their wake.