LOGINThe horn sounded again—longer this time, sharper, cutting through the fragile stillness of the moon garden like a blade dragged across glass.Kael turned toward the sound immediately, every line of him shifting from man to Alpha. Selene felt it through the bond—the snap of instinct, the cold clarity that came when leadership demanded precedence over intimacy.“I’ll handle it,” he said.Selene nodded, though something inside her recoiled at how easily the moment between them fractured. Not because of duty—she understood that—but because everything seemed to fracture lately. Conversations. Assumptions. Trust.As Kael strode away, Selene remained beneath the moon trees, silver light pooling at her feet. The twin stirred again, restless now, no longer content to whisper from the edges.You feel it too, the voice murmured. They are pressing. All of them.“Yes,” Selene replied silently. “And you’re enjoying it.”The twin did not deny it.The messenger was young—barely past first shift—his b
The consequences did not arrive all at once.They seeped in.Like cold through stone.Morning in Nightfang came with the usual rhythm—bells, patrol calls, the thud of feet on packed earth—but something subtle had shifted. Wolves who once greeted Selene openly now hesitated, not out of disrespect but uncertainty. She was still Luna by bond, still Alpha’s mate, but the public appointment Kael had made the night before had drawn a thin, invisible line through the pack’s understanding of her place.Not lower.Just… undefined.Selene felt it everywhere.In the way conversations softened when she passed. In the way Ariane—who had not been summoned, but had somehow found herself present again—hovered near Kael during logistics meetings. In the way Adrian’s absence felt louder than his presence ever had.He left before dawn.No announcement. No farewell.Just a note placed in the Hall’s archive ledger, written in his careful hand, confirming receipt of his assignment and intent to depart with
The Space BetweenKael did not sleep.He stood on the battlements until the moon climbed, waned, and dipped behind cloud, his wolf restless beneath his skin—not raging, not threatening to break free, but pacing. Watching. Calculating.That was worse.Because rage he could fight.This—this quiet, creeping awareness that something delicate was shifting inside the pack, inside Selene, inside him—had no claws to meet.Below, Nightfang lived.Torches guttered and were replaced. Guards rotated. Somewhere in the lower courtyards, laughter rose and fell as wolves off duty shared drink and stories. Life continued, stubborn and ordinary, even as something fundamental adjusted its footing beneath it.Kael pressed his palms to the cold stone.He had faced gods. He had faced prophecy. He had faced the Devourer and not blinked.But this?This was choice without violence. Presence without possession. Love without certainty.And it was unraveling him.Selene lay awake too.Her chamber felt different
Adrian did not leave the Hall in anger.That was what made it devastating.There was no slammed door, no shouted accusation, no final look thrown like a blade over his shoulder. When the Oracle dismissed the Council and the torches dimmed back to their resting blue, Adrian simply inclined his head—once—to the elders, once to Selene, and once to Kael.A gesture of respect.A gesture that said I am not finished, but I am not your enemy either.Then he turned and walked out.The sound of his footsteps faded long before anyone breathed.The Nightfang Hall emptied slowly after that, as if the pack itself were afraid that motion might shatter something fragile and unseen. Wolves avoided Selene’s gaze—not in judgment, but in discomfort. This was not a wound they could bite or bleed out. It was a knot pulled too tight around fate.Kael remained where he was long after the last torchbearer left.Selene stood beside him, close enough to feel the heat of him, far enough that her sleeve did not b
The Hall of Nightfang had been built for war.Stone older than memory rose in a crescent, carved with the sigils of every Alpha who had bled for the territory. The ceiling arched high enough that voices carried and multiplied, turning even a whisper into something that felt judged. Torches burned with blue flame—witchlight—fed by the pack’s ley lines, reacting to truth, to power, to intent.Tonight, they burned brighter than usual.Kael stood at the center of the floor, shoulders squared, hands loose at his sides in a posture that every wolf in the room recognized as controlled violence. Not unleashed. Not restrained. Balanced. Barely.Selene stood to his right, dressed in black and silver, the mark at her throat faintly visible beneath the collar of her cloak. She had chosen not to hide it fully. A message. A risk.Behind them, the pack gathered in tiers—betas, elders, sentinels—silent, watchful. The air vibrated with contained instincts. This was not a trial of teeth and claws.This
The summons arrived before dawn.Not by horn. Not by runner.By seal.Selene found it waiting on the small table beside her bed when she woke—parchment thick as hide, the Nightfang crest pressed deep into crimson wax. For a moment she simply stared at it, heart thudding, already knowing.The law had teeth.And it had bitten.The twin stirred lazily inside her, amused rather than alarmed.So it begins, she murmured. How quaint. Wolves pretending rules can hold gods.Selene ignored her and reached for the seal. Her fingers hesitated—then broke it cleanly.By order of the Nightfang Elders,Selene of the Silver Vein is hereby summoned to a Council Review,to assess fitness for Luna Ascension under Clause Thirteen.No accusation. No defense. Just procedure.Selene exhaled slowly, folding the parchment with deliberate calm.So this was Ariane’s escalation.Not a confrontation. Not a theft.A structure.A cage built of tradition and “concern,” where Selene could either contort herself into a







