Se connecterThe storm broke before nightfall.It rolled in without warning, clouds bruising the sky until the world seemed to dim beneath them. Thunder growled low and distant, not violent, but watchful. As if the sky itself had paused to observe what Aria would do next.She stood at the tall window of Damien’s private wing, wrapped in a thin robe, watching the rain lash against the glass. Each drop sent a faint ripple through her chest. Not pain. Resonance.The land was still listening.Behind her, the room hummed softly with warded power. Damien had reinforced every seal personally. She could feel his work threaded through the stone, precise and unyielding, a fortress built not just for defense, but for endurance.“You should be resting,” he said from behind her.She didn’t turn. “If I lie down, it gets worse.”He joined her at the window, close enough that his presence steadied the frantic pulse beneath her skin. “Because your power isn’t meant to be dormant anymore,” he said. “It’s adjusting
The Trial did not release her when it ended.It followed Aria like a second shadow.She felt it in the silence after the Conclave dispersed, in the way the wind hesitated before touching her skin, in how the ground beneath her boots seemed to listen too closely. Power still hummed through her veins, no longer roaring, but pulsing with a slow, deliberate rhythm that refused to fade.Recognition lingered.The valley watched her leave.As Aria crossed the final boundary stones, her breath caught, not from exertion, but from pressure. Something unseen pressed inward now, coiling around her ribs, tugging at the place where her wolf and magic met.Damien noticed instantly.His stride shortened, falling half a step behind her, a subtle shift that placed his body between hers and the watching Alphas. His hand brushed her elbow, steadying, possessive without being overt.“You’re leaking power,” he said quietly, voice pitched low so only she could hear. “Not outward. Inward.”Aria swallowed, fi
The Grand Alpha Conclave opened at dawn.No horns announced it. No banners unfurled.The land itself bore witness.Stone pillars older than recorded history rose from the valley floor in a vast circle, etched with runes that glowed faintly beneath the morning light. This was not neutral ground. It was bound ground. Lies frayed here. Power answered honestly, even when its bearer wished otherwise.Aria felt it the moment she crossed the threshold.Her wolf stirred, not restless, but alert. Measuring. Listening.Around her, Alphas took their places, each standing within the boundary of their ancestral mark. Some radiated confidence. Others carried tension like a held breath. Damien remained just outside the circle, where Kings and Consorts were meant to stand. A visible line drawn for everyone watching.Whispers traveled anyway.“She stands alone.”“She has no crown.”“She has no pack.”Aria lifted her chin.Let them see that too.The Elder Arbiter stepped forward, his staff striking sto
The summons went out before dawn.Not by messenger. Not by decree nailed to stone.By instinct.Across territories stitched together by old blood and older magic, wolves lifted their heads as if tugged by an invisible thread. Alphas woke restless. Elders stirred from uneasy dreams. Pack bonds hummed with a low, unfamiliar urgency, like the earth itself shifting beneath ancestral claims.The Grand Alpha Conclave had been invoked.Aria stood on the eastern balcony as the sun crested the horizon, painting the mountains in copper and gold. The wind tugged at her hair, cool and sharp, carrying the scent of pine, ash, and distant rain. Somewhere far below, wolves howled. Not in challenge.In acknowledgment.She rested her hands on the stone railing, grounding herself, feeling the quiet pulse of the land beneath her palms. The mansion no longer felt like a place she was trespassing through. It responded to her now. Doors opened before she touched them. Flames steadied when she passed. Even t
The bowing ended the moment the doors closed.Stone groaned as the council chamber sealed behind them, ancient locks grinding into place, cutting off the murmurs, the politics, the fear masquerading as obedience. The sound echoed down the corridor like a verdict that had not yet finished being written.Aria exhaled.Only then did she realize how tightly she had been holding herself together.The hallway beyond the chamber was long and narrow, lit by iron sconces whose flames flickered uneasily, reacting to the residual power still clinging to her skin. Each step felt heavier than the last, as if the mansion itself were adjusting to her presence, recalibrating centuries of hierarchy around her heartbeat.Her wolf did not relax.If anything, it grew more alert.Damien walked beside her, close but not crowding, his presence a steady pressure at her back. Not shielding her from the world.Standing with her in it.“You held your ground,” he said quietly, eyes forward. “That matters more th
The council chamber had been carved long before Damien Blackwood was born.Long before his father had worn the crown. Long before Aria Hale had ever been whispered about in prophecy or bloodline records. The stone walls curved inward like the ribs of some ancient beast, etched with sigils meant to suppress magic and expose truth. Power hummed faintly in the air, old and watchful.Aria felt it the moment she stepped inside.Her wolf lifted her head.Not in fear.In recognition.Every eye in the chamber turned toward her.There were twelve council members seated in a half circle, each representing one of the elder packs, bloodlines that had survived wars, purges, and betrayals. Their expressions ranged from curiosity to thinly veiled hostility. Some radiated tightly controlled dominance. Others… unease.Damien walked at her side, close enough that she could feel the heat of him without touching. His presence pressed outward like a shield, an unspoken warning to anyone who thought to cha







