COURT OF WOLVES

Elara POV

The Lycan court was nothing like Silverclaw.

There were no banners draped across the walls. No musicians to soften the air. No ritual meant to disguise power as tradition.

This hall did not pretend.

It was carved entirely from black stone, vast and towering, its pillars shaped like claws frozen mid-strike. The ceiling arched so high it disappeared into shadow, as if the mountain itself refused to reveal its limits. Fire burned in deep iron bowls along the walls, but the heat never reached the center. The air there stayed cold, sharp enough to sting the lungs with every breath.

This was not a place of welcome.

This was where wolves were measured.

Where weakness was noticed. And remembered.

The moment I stepped inside, conversation slowed. Then stopped.

It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t dramatic. It was the sudden stillness that came when predators focused at once. I felt it instantly, the shift in the air, the alignment of attention snapping toward me. Dozens of gazes turned sharp and heavy, weighing, judging.

Alphas from across the Lycan Dominion filled the hall. Each was powerful enough to rule their own territory. Each dangerous in a different way.

Some wore armor etched with territorial sigils, metal dulled by old blood and age. Others wore dark robes, their authority shown not through decoration, but through how much space surrounded them. No one crowded an Alpha unless invited.

I was the smallest presence in the room.

And the most exposed. Kael walked beside me.

He did not touch me. He did not guide me with a hand or offer reassurance. He simply moved forward, unhurried, inevitable.

The court parted for him.

Not rushed.

Not fearful.

Instinctive.

Alphas lowered their heads as he passed, not fully, not submissively, but enough.

Enough to acknowledge that this space, this court, this power...

Belonged to him.

We stopped near the front of the hall, before a raised stone seat carved directly into the wall itself. It did not look built. It looked grown, as if the mountain had shaped itself around his rule, bending rather than resisting.

Kael did not sit.

He turned slightly toward me.

“Stand here,” he said.

I obeyed, stepping to his side.

The murmurs returned low, sharp, slicing.

“That’s her?”

“She’s smaller than I expected.”

“An omega?”

“The rejected one?”

“She doesn’t belong here.”

Each word cut deep, even when spoken quietly. I felt them press against my skin, trying to sink in.

My spine stiffened. My legs trembled, but I kept my head high. I wore a simple dark dress, no jewels, no sigils, nothing to announce worth or status.

I had never felt so visible.

Kael lifted one hand.

Silence fell instantly.

“The court is called,” he said.

His voice carried through the vast hall with calm authority. No effort. No strain. It was not loud, yet it reached everywhere.

“You will speak when permitted.”

An Alpha stepped forward.

He was broad-shouldered, his ash-gray hair pulled back tightly. A long scar ran down the side of his face, marking him as a veteran of old wars. His confidence was practiced—measured, dangerous.

“My King,” he said, bowing just enough to be respectful. “We were not informed of the purpose of this gathering.”

“You are informed now,” Kael replied. “Observe.”

The Alpha’s gaze slid to me.

Openly.

Deliberately.

“Is this the wolf taken from Silverclaw?” he asked. “The one rejected under the Moon?”

A few low chuckles rippled through the hall.

My stomach tightened. Kael did not react.

“If she stands under Lycan protection,” the Alpha continued, stepping closer, too close.... “then the court should understand her value. Is she payment? A hostage?”

His eyes locked onto mine.

“Speak,” he said. “Tell the court why you stand beside the King.”

My heart slammed against my ribs.

He hadn’t asked Kael.

He had challenged me.

I drew in a breath...

“Enough.”

Kael’s voice cut through the hall like steel.

The Alpha froze mid-step.

“You will not command her,” Kael said evenly. “You will not speak over her. And you will not look at her again unless I allow it.”

The air went still.

The Alpha stiffened. “My King, I meant no...”

Kael turned fully toward him.

The pressure hit instantly.

It wasn’t visible, but it slammed into my chest, heavy and crushing, stealing the air from my lungs. Several Alphas shifted uneasily. One stepped back without realizing it. Another narrowed his eyes, not in fear, but in calculation.

“You meant to test me,” Kael said. “By using her.”

The Alpha swallowed hard.

“You failed.”

Kael took one step forward.

Only one.

The Alpha dropped to one knee as if struck by an invisible force, a strained sound tearing from his throat as he fought the weight pressing him down.

“Stand,” Kael ordered.

The Alpha shook as he forced himself upright, his face pale.

Kael’s gaze was ice-cold.

“You will apologize to her.”

The hall fell into absolute silence.

The Alpha stared at Kael, then at me. His jaw tightened.

Something ached deep in my chest.

No one had ever defended me like this.

Not once.

“I...” He hesitated.

Kael’s eyes sharpened.

The Alpha bowed.

This time... to me.

“My apology,” he said, the words scraped raw.

As he straightened, I saw it, not submission, but restraint. Around us, other Alphas watched closely. Some with narrowed eyes. Some with interest. Some already reassessing what this meant.

Kael turned back to the court.

“Let this be understood,” he said. “Anyone who speaks over her speaks against me. And I do not forgive insults.”

The message settled deep.

No one laughed now.

No one whispered.

But the silence had changed. It wasn’t empty anymore. It was heavy with thought. With planning.

One Alpha shifted, murmuring quietly to another. Another studied Kael with a frown, as if measuring the cost of what he had just done.

He had crossed a line. And everyone knew it.

Another Alpha stepped forward, female, older, her posture careful.

“My King,” she said, “may we ask her standing?”

Kael did not look at her.

“She stands where I place her.”

The Alpha bowed and retreated without argument.

The court continued.

Borders. Patrols. Trade routes. Old disputes sharpened by old blood.

Kael answered each matter briefly and decisively. No debate. No compromise. No challenge.

But beneath it all, something had shifted. Eyes returned to me again and again, not mocking now, but watchful.

Measuring.

I stood beside him the entire time.

Watched.

Measured.

Protected.

Time stretched.

A dull ache bloomed behind my eyes. At first, I ignored it. Then my chest tightened.

The air felt wrong, too thick, too thin, I couldn’t tell. Heat crept beneath my skin, sharp and unsettling. It wasn’t pain exactly. It felt like pressure. Like something waking.

I shifted my weight.

Kael noticed instantly. His gaze flicked to me, sharp and focused.

“Are you unwell?” he asked quietly.

“I’m fine,” I said.

The words felt distant, like they belonged to someone else.

Several Alphas leaned forward, suddenly alert.

The ache worsened.

My heartbeat stumbled, then surged painfully.

For a brief, terrifying moment, I felt it.

A pull.

Not away, but toward Kael. Toward the space he occupied. Toward the center of the court itself.

It was as if the hall was breathing with me.

As if the power here had noticed me back.

I swallowed hard.

The hall tilted.

“Sit,” Kael said.

I tried.

My knees buckled.

The world blurred. Strong arms caught me before I hit the floor.

Kael.

He did not touch my bare skin. His cloak wrapped around me instead, grounding me, anchoring me upright, as though instinct guided him more than thought.

The court erupted.

“What is happening...”

“Is she...”

“Clear the hall,” Kael commanded.

His voice cracked through the chamber like thunder.

Guards moved instantly. Alphas backed away, shock and calculation flashing across their faces. No one argued. No one delayed.

Some watched with open concern.

Others with new, dangerous interest.

Kael lowered his head toward mine.

“Elara,” he said, his voice low, urgent. “Stay with me.”

I tried to answer.

But darkness surged in from the edges of my vision, heavy and relentless.

The last thing I felt was the court fading away...

And the weight of unseen eyes, no longer mocking, no longer dismissive.

This was where wolves were measured.

And as everything went black, I understood one thing with chilling clarity...

I had been measured.

And found dangerous.