Chapter 7 how can you deny the Pack name

My gaze darted away in a panic; my palms clenched until my nails bit into my skin.

Silence fell like a blade—every pair of eyes waited for my answer.

Cole’s stare burned so hot it might have singed the air, heavy with a possessiveness that pressed on the ribs.

Maybe his rage was only for my leaving. The wolf-king’s instinct could not accept such a fact.

I avoided his eyes and forced a calm I did not feel.

“Mya Elder,” I said, voice measured, “I was too young to understand what love meant. Besides, an engagement is meant for the future wolf-king and the Princess of Silver Ridge Pack. I… I’m not even truly one of the Pack.”

Cole closed the distance between us, each step draining the warmth from the morning—pressure so thick it made breath hard. He opened his mouth to speak, but Liam cut him off.

“Nina! What are you doing? The bloodline rolls never change—how can you not count as Pack?” Liam’s voice rose.

“Whoever fed and raised you—how can you deny the Pack name?”

He barked the questions without seeing how Mya’s face had gone pale.

“Liam!” Evelyn snapped, hurriedly, “speak properly.”

Sensing Mya’s disquiet, Liam swallowed his temper and only snorted at me. The hypocrisy around me glittered and stung.

I let the words out like a blade: cold, sharp, impossible to smooth.

“On the second day after I was exiled to the Blood Wash Grounds three years ago, Alpha Marcus told Elders that I had already been cast out of the Pack and thus could be disposed of as they wished.”

Liam staggered as if struck. Disbelief turned his face hard. He pointed at me, accusing: “You’re lying!”

Silence hollowed the hall. Liam turned, calling to Evelyn: “Mother! Is Nina lying?”

Evelyn said nothing. The look on her face told him everything.

Impossible—Alpha Marcus had loved Nina; he would never exile her, would he? The thought tore at him.

His breath hitched; with a curse he stormed from the palace.

Cole’s gaze finally slid away from me. He bowed once, then addressed Mya in a low voice:“General Cole pays respects, Elder Mya. I’ve brought a curative—may you recover swiftly.”

He dropped to one knee in formal salute, his voice a rumble. Strong, composed, handsome—who would not be moved by such a youth? Mya answered with a warm, maternal smile.

“Good boy. We were just discussing you and Lily’s marriage. In a few days I will meet with your parents and set a betrothal date.”

Only then did Cole glance at Lily. She flushed crimson, lips bitten shyly. Evelyn chimed in:

“Cole, you face danger on the battle field. Marriage early gives you a home to miss when you return.”

Cole didn’t answer, his eyes fixed on me. His jaw tightened. Then he asked, hoarse, as though he’d swallowed glass:

“Nina… do you think so?”

His voice dropped, rough with something he could not hide. Why ask me? What had I to do with it?

Everyone froze. Lily looked between Cole and me, eyes wet and raw. How could she not see where Cole’s gaze truly rested?

It wasn’t on her. It was on Nina. Naked, raw possessiveness—aimed at me, not at the woman he was meant to wed.

I drew breath and forced the last of my feelings down.

“Yes. I think that is how it should be. I wish you happiness.”

I met his eyes. Danger flickered in them like a blade finding a joint. My words clearly infuriated him.

When I loved him, he had not cared; yet now, when I am done, he asks my opinion. Would seeing me hurt satisfy him?

Cole gave a bitter laugh, warm tone false as velvet:

“Thank you for the blessing. As for the wedding—wait a little. I must win this war first.”

I could not stand to hear another sentence. I turned and fled from Mya’s palace.

Cole was right—there would be a war to win. But Lily’s eyes were rimmed raw with red.

War? Who knows when it would end?

Cole had always been gentle with her—yet like gauze between them, something distant lay. Today that gentleness felt colder still.

She bowed her head and bit her lip.

“Cole… do you not want to marry me? Was all of this just in my head?”

Cole’s face smoothed into polite form, but his gaze drifted away.

“Our union is arranged by our elders. Don’t overthink it.”

Her voice died. She seemed to be coercing an unwilling Cole into marriage. He left without a promise—no words of desire, no soft vow—only absence.

The Registry Hall turned into chaos. Countless cards were scattered on the ground. Dead, alive, the identity information of all the Pack members was here.

Liam rifled through the files with a desperation that bordered on madness. He would not believe my words without proof.

Card after card piled like fallen snow—row after row—until the last shelf.

There was no Nina.

Impossible.

How could Father be so cruel as to banish Nina? Even if she was not true-blood, fifteen years of raising her as princess should have meant something, should it not? All for the worth of a Moon Chalice?

Three years later, in our reunion, I refuse to call him brother or spare a word.

Liam stood stunned, struck by an unseen frost. Rage exploded from his chest—an animal roar he tried to bury but could not.

He muttered, bitter:

“Really… even if you raised a damn dog for fifteen years, it should still wag its tail for its master.”

His voice broke between anger and confusion.

“Nina—why do you hold such grudges? Wouldn’t it be better to be like before?”

His eyes churned with pain and something darker; my indifferent silence drove the wedge deeper.

Bit by bit, fury swallowed him until his gaze turned hard and cold.

“Nina, you need to learn a lesson.”

The words were hoarse, a verdict already made—he believed this decision would bend me into obedience.