Strength revealed

Lyra laughed.

The sound rang too loudly, too sharply, cutting through the uneasy silence that had settled over the courtyard like a storm cloud. It wasn’t amusement, it was denial wrapped in silk and pride.

“She’s pretending,” Lyra said, turning slowly to face the pack. “Can’t you see it? This is an act.”

Her eyes flicked back to me, sharp and calculating, scanning for weakness that no longer existed.

“Elara was always good at playing the victim.”

A few wolves shifted uncomfortably. Others glanced between us, uncertain. Doubt was a seed Lyra had planted long ago, and she was desperate to water it now.

I remained still.

Power hummed beneath my skin, quiet but alert, like a beast waiting for command.

Lyra stepped forward, voice rising. “She wants attention. That’s all this is. A desperate attempt to crawl back into relevance.”

Her gaze slid to Kael, searching his face for agreement.

Kael said nothing.

That silence terrified her more than any accusation.

Because she felt it too,the pressure in the air, the subtle pull of something ancient awakening. She felt how the land leaned toward me, how the pack’s instincts stirred uneasily.

So she did what she always did when the truth threatened her.

She lied louder.

“I can prove it,” Lyra announced suddenly. “I can prove she’s nothing more than a fraud.”

Murmurs rippled through the gathered wolves.

Lyra gestured sharply to a warrior at the edge of the crowd. “Bring it.”

The warrior hesitated, but obeyed.

He returned moments later carrying a small leather pouch. Lyra took it with a triumphant smile, opening it so its contents spilled into her palm: a dark, jagged stone etched with crude runes.

Forbidden markings.

My gaze sharpened.

Lyra raised it high. “This,” she declared, “was found near the border weeks ago. Rogue magic. Dangerous. Unstable.”

Her eyes gleamed. “And now that she’s returned suddenly, stronger than before? Tell me that’s not suspicious.”

Gasps spread through the pack.

“She consorted with rogues.”

“She used dark power.”

“That explains it.”

Lyra turned to me, satisfaction trembling through her limbs. “You see? Whatever you think you are now, Elara, it’s stolen. Corrupted. You’re a threat.”

Kael finally moved.

“That stone,” he said slowly, eyes fixed on it, “was never reported to me.”

Lyra didn’t look at him. “Because I wanted to protect the pack.”

From me.

I exhaled softly.

This was her final card.

And it was weak.

I stepped forward.

The air changed instantly.

The ground beneath my feet vibrated faintly, as if recognizing its own. The whispers died, replaced by a deep, instinctive silence.

I didn’t look at Lyra.

I looked at the stone.

“Put it down,” I said calmly.

Lyra laughed again, but her hand shook. “Or what?”

I raised my gaze to her at last.

And for the first time, I let my power rise without restraint.

Not violently.

Not chaotically.

But fully.

The warmth surged outward, flooding the space between us. The runes on the stone flickered violently, then cracked with a sharp sound. The stone shattered in Lyra’s palm, crumbling into harmless ash.

Lyra screamed, stumbling back.

The ash fell like dark snow.

The pack stared in stunned silence.

I took another step forward, eyes glowing faintly, not with rage, but with clarity.

“That magic was never mine,” I said. “And it never had power here.”

The air shimmered around me now, visible to all. The wind bent instinctively toward me. The ground stilled. Even the wolves felt it, the ancient recognition deep in their bones.

I lifted my hands slowly.

Silver-gold light unfurled from my palms, weaving into the air like living threads. It didn’t burn. It didn’t destroy.

It harmonized.

The courtyard breathed with me.

“I didn’t return to please you,” I continued, my voice steady but carrying effortlessly. “I didn’t return to beg forgiveness or reclaim a place you were so eager to strip from me.”

Kael’s breath hitched.

Lyra backed away, eyes wide, face drained of color.

“I returned,” I said, “because my exile was never an accident.”

The light pulsed once, spreading outward. The pack gasped as invisible lines flared briefly—threads of connection between land, bloodline, and bond.

Truth.

Not illusion.

Not theft.

Truth.

Lyra shook her head violently. “No ... no, that’s not possible. She was an omega. Weak. She...”

“...was suppressed,” I finished quietly.

The word fell like a blade.

Lyra’s panic spilled over. “You’re manipulating them! This is trickery.”

“Enough,” Kael said sharply.

Every head turned.

He stepped forward, his face torn between awe and agony. His wolf pressed hard against his control, roaring now, furious and desperate.

“What she’s doing,” he said hoarsely, eyes locked on me, “is not rogue magic.”

He swallowed.

“It’s legacy magic.”

A murmur of shock tore through the pack.

Lyra’s knees buckled.

“No,” she whispered. “That belongs to ruling bloodlines. To Alphas. To...”

“To those chosen by the land,” I said softly.

I let the power recede slightly, enough to breathe again, enough to let them think.

Lyra stared at me, realization dawning with horrifying clarity.

All her lies.

All her schemes.

All her certainty,

Unraveling.

She lunged for Kael, clutching his arm. “You can’t believe her. I stood by you. I helped you rule. I... ”

Kael pulled away.

The rejection was immediate.

Final.

His eyes never left mine.

Regret carved deep lines into his expression, battling with desire, pride with instinct. He had chosen wrong, and now the consequences stood before him, radiant and unyielding.

“Elara,” he said, voice breaking slightly. “You were never meant to be cast out.”

I met his gaze without softness.

“And yet,” I replied, “you did.”

Silence followed, heavy, irrevocable.

Lyra sank to the ground, trembling, her influence shattered, her lies exposed.

I turned away from them all.

My message had been delivered.

This wasn’t coincidence.

This was destiny correcting itself.

And the pack, every single one of them, felt it.