Chapter Three: The Council's Judgement

(Zyandra's POV)

The sun had already risen when the summons came.

Its light cut through my window like a blade, bright and merciless. I hadn’t slept. My head ached from the tension that never eased, and the mark burned faintly under my skin — a dull reminder of last night’s mistake.

I dressed quickly, pulling my cloak over my shoulders to hide the mark. Outside, the compound was quiet but heavy with whispers. The news had spread faster than the dawn. A human had entered our borders, and someone had let him go.

When I reached the council hall, the guards didn’t meet my eyes. They opened the great doors without a word, and I walked into the room where judgment already waited.

The elders sat in their half-circle, robes pooled like shadows around them. At the center, Grand Elder Thalos, ancient and still as carved stone. To his right, Elder Khaan — the one everyone despised but no one dared oppose. His eyes burned the moment they met mine.

“Alpha Zyandra Varyn,” Khaan said, his tone sharp as the edge of a blade. “You have caused quite a disturbance.”

I stopped in the center of the marble floor, meeting his gaze without flinching. “If this is about last night, I’m already aware of how the council feels.”

Khaan leaned forward, thin lips curling. “How you should feel, you mean. A human entered Valyra’s woods, interrupted a sacred gathering, and was somehow allowed to walk free. And no one knows who released him.”

His emphasis lingered on no one, as though the accusation were already settled.

“I didn’t release him,” I said evenly. “You can search my chambers, question my guards, question the moon if you want. I have nothing to hide.”

A murmur rippled through the council — disbelief, maybe, or the thrill of scandal. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears.

Khaan's eyes narrowed. “You expect us to believe that someone trespassed into the Alpha’s den, survived a marking, and escaped unnoticed?”

I held his stare. “I expect you to remember who I am. I run this pack, and I’ve never been careless with our borders.”

He rose to his feet, robes shifting like smoke. “Careless? You are the first woman to bear the title of Alpha in this realm, and already you bring shame upon it! You have marked a human — a creature of myth and danger. And now you stand here speaking of honor?”

I clenched my fists, nails biting into my palms. “I didn’t choose this. The Moon did. You all saw it. The mark wasn’t my will.”

“Then perhaps,” he said coldly, “the Moon made a mistake.”

That drew gasps. You could have heard a pin drop in that hall. Even Thalos shifted in his chair.

Khaan saw the reaction and pushed harder. “You speak of mistakes as if the Goddess can err. You defy divine judgment, and now you lie to cover your shame. You’re just like your mother — reckless, defiant, unworthy of the title you wear.”

The air left the room. My pulse hammered. No one dared speak my mother’s name — not here, not in my presence.

I took a slow breath. “Careful, Khaan.”

He smiled, satisfied with the wound he’d reopened. “Truth needs no caution, Alpha.”

I took a step closer, enough that he tensed. “You think I’d risk my pack for a stranger? For a human I don’t even know? I would die before I betrayed Valyra. But maybe you’d prefer that — it would make things simpler for you.”

“Enough,” Thalos’s voice cut through the air, deep and weary. The murmuring stopped instantly. “We did not gather to trade insults.”

Khaan turned, bowing slightly but still bristling. “Grand Elder, with respect, this situation threatens us all. If the Goddess truly marked her to a human, our laws demand correction. The balance must be restored.”

Thalos regarded me for a long moment. His eyes, old as time, softened — not with pity, but with understanding. “Zyandra,” he said quietly, “you are certain you had no hand in his release?”

“Yes,” I said. My voice didn’t shake. “I was in my quarters when they told me he was gone.”

Thalos exhaled slowly, then turned to the others. “Then the matter stands thus. The human must be found. If he poses no threat, he is to be dealt with swiftly.”

Khaan's eyes gleamed. “You mean killed.”

Thalos didn’t argue. “If that’s what it takes to protect the pack.”

I felt something twist inside me — anger, maybe fear. “And if he’s innocent? He didn’t even know what we were. He was lost.”

“Lost,” Khaan repeated mockingly. “In the heart of Valyra? During a moon gathering? Do you take us for fools?”

Thalos raised a hand. “Enough. If the human cannot be found, then the Goddess’s bond remains unbalanced. The council cannot ignore that.”

He looked straight at me, and I knew what was coming even before he spoke.

“Until the bond is undone, Alpha Zyandra, you will be held accountable. Should the human remain alive beyond the next full moon, and if this bond brings misfortune upon Valyra — you will face exile.”

Silence. The word hung like smoke.

Exile. The stripping of everything I’d fought to build. The end of my lineage, my command, my identity.

I swallowed, forcing calm. “So that’s it. No hearing. No proof. Just exile.”

Thalos’s tone was soft, but final. “Those are the laws that bind us all. Even you.”

I nodded slowly. “Then I’ll find him myself.”

Khaan laughed under his breath. “Perhaps you already know where to look.”

I ignored him. “If this is what the council decrees, then fine. But understand this — I am still Alpha until that moon rises. And I will not have my pack living in fear because of superstition and pride.”

The Grand Elder met my gaze. “Then do what must be done, Zyandra Varyn. May the Goddess show you mercy.”

He struck his staff against the marble. The sound echoed through the chamber, sealing the judgment.

I turned and walked out before anyone could speak again. The doors closed behind me with a heavy thud that sounded too much like an ending.

Outside, the sunlight had turned harsh, glaring off the silver tiles. The mark on my neck throbbed faintly — not pain, exactly, more like a pulse I couldn’t silence. The connection was still there, no matter how much I wanted to tear it away.

I walked through the corridors, trying to breathe, but every whisper followed me — the Alpha marked a human, she’s cursed, the Goddess turned her back.

I didn’t look at them. I couldn’t.

When I reached my quarters, Lydia was already there, pacing. Her golden eyes widened the moment she saw my face. “Zyandra. What happened?”

I shut the door behind me, leaning against it for a second longer than I meant to. “They’ve decided. If he’s not found, I’ll be banished.”

Lydia’s hand flew to her mouth. “What? They can’t—”

“They can,” I said quietly. “And they did.”

She shook her head, anger and fear warring in her expression. “You didn’t release him. They all know that. Someone else did—”

“And no one’s going to admit it,” I cut in. “Not when they can blame me instead.”

The mark burned again, and I winced, pressing my hand to it. Lydia stepped forward immediately. “It’s hurting again, isn’t it?”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. Zyandra, this isn’t normal. The pain shouldn’t last this long. The bond’s unstable — it’s like the Moon is waiting for something.”

I dropped onto the edge of my bed, tired in a way that went beyond the body. “She can wait all she wants. I’m not bending to her. Not for this.”

Lydia hesitated, lowering her voice. “You’re going to look for him, aren’t you?”

I didn’t answer right away. The sunlight caught the edge of my silver hair, and for a moment, the reflection almost looked like moonlight. “If I don’t,” I said finally, “then Veran gets exactly what he wants.”

Lydia nodded slowly, resigned. “Then I’m coming with you.”

“No,” I said. “Stay here. If I don’t come back, you’ll need to hold the pack together.”

Her jaw tightened. “Don’t talk like that. You will come back.”

I almost smiled. “You always did believe in me more than I do.”

The room went quiet again. Outside, the sounds of the pack carried faintly — the rhythmic steps of patrols, the distant call of the training fields, life continuing as if nothing had happened.

But everything had changed.

I looked out the window at the rising sun. Its warmth didn’t reach me. All I could think of was that human — the stranger with startled eyes and steady hands — and the mark that bound us under

 a Goddess’s mistake.

Somewhere out there, he was walking free.

And if I didn’t find him soon, freedom would cost me everything.