The Hall of Fangs

The bells grew louder with every step, each toll reverberating through Lena’s bones. The road narrowed, sloping upward between cliffs streaked with veins of silver and black stone. Torches lined the path, their flames blue instead of gold, burning with no smoke.

At last the cliffs opened, and the Hall rose before them.

It was not a castle, not in the human sense. It was something older, carved directly into the mountain, its arches sharp as fangs, its walls etched with runes that pulsed faintly as though alive. Twin statues of wolves guarded the entrance—massive, snarling beasts hewn from obsidian, their eyes set with rubies that glowed like fresh blood.

The envoy turned, his crimson cloak pooling like spilled wine. “Enter. The Council is waiting.”

The warriors exchanged wary glances. Even Kade’s stallion snorted, hooves stamping against stone, as if the beast itself sensed the wrongness of this place.

Kade dismounted first, then helped Lena down. His hand lingered at her waist, grounding her. She held on to that warmth longer than she should have before forcing herself to let go.

The air beyond the entrance was cold, damp with stone and incense. The hall stretched wide, torches burning with that same unnatural blue fire. Wolves carved into the walls seemed to watch them pass.

At the far end rose a dais, semicircular, with seven thrones carved from black stone. Upon them sat the Council.

Seven Alphas. Seven lines.

Each carried their own mark of power: a silver circlet, a cloak of furs, talismans made from bone and claw. Their eyes gleamed with the golden light of the wolf, though none were fully shifted. Their gazes fell on Lena the moment she entered, sharp and dissecting.

One of them—a tall woman draped in white wolf pelts—leaned forward. Her voice carried like steel dragged across stone.

“So. The Moon’s Chosen arrives.”

Lena froze.

Kade’s arm brushed hers, steadying. But his eyes stayed on the Council, his voice iron when he spoke. “You summoned her. We came. Speak your purpose, and speak it plain.”

The woman’s lips curved. Not a smile—something colder. “Plainly, then. The prophecy of the Moon’s Chosen has ripened. A bonded wolf born of shadow and flame. A bond that threatens the balance of every pack. And yet…” Her eyes flicked to Lena. “…you wear no crown. You hold no territory. You are untested.”

Another Council member, a scarred man with silver hair and a jaw like granite, added, “And still, the blood of our enemies stains your hands. Cassian is dead.”

The words struck like thunder. Lena’s breath caught. They knew.

Every councilor watched her, waiting for reaction.

Kade stepped forward, his voice a low growl. “Cassian brought war to our lands. He challenged me on Blackwood soil. He fell by his own ambition.”

The scarred Alpha’s eyes narrowed. “And yet the bondmate shared his blood. The Moon’s Chosen has drawn first blood in the wars of Alphas.”

Murmurs rippled across the dais. Whispers of prophecy, of doom.

Lena’s heart pounded, her wolf clawing at the walls of her chest. She wanted to shout, to demand they see her not as a curse but as what she was—alive, loyal, willing to fight for her pack. But her throat locked.

Until Kade’s hand brushed hers. Not for show. For her.

She drew breath. Her voice shook, but it carried. “I am not your prophecy. I am not your doom. I am Lena of Blackwood. I bleed with my pack, I fight beside my Alpha. If you fear me, it is not because I am chosen. It is because you do not know me.”

The hall fell into silence.

Then the woman in white wolf pelts tilted her head. Her golden eyes gleamed like moons.

“Then let us know you. Let us see what the Moon has placed in you.”

She raised a clawed hand. A gong sounded, deep and thunderous.

The envoy spoke from the shadows: “The Trial begins.”

The gong’s echo had not yet faded when the floor beneath Lena trembled. She stiffened, clutching Kade’s arm, as lines of silver light spread like veins across the stone, tracing a vast circle around them. The markings pulsed, alive, binding her within their glow.

The Council did not move from their thrones. Instead, their voices wove together, old and resonant, reciting in the tongue of the first wolves. Lena could not understand the words, but she felt them in her blood—sharp, cold, binding.

The envoy stepped forward, his crimson cloak dragging across the runes. His tone was merciless.

“The Trial of the Chosen is ancient law. Seven challenges, each revealing truth, strength, and loyalty. Few survive. None without scars.”

He turned to Lena, eyes burning like embers. “You will face them. Alone.”

Lena’s breath stuttered. “Alone?” Her voice cracked in the vaulted hall. She forced it stronger. “You mean without Kade?”

The envoy’s lip curled. “Your Alpha may not shield you here. If you are the Moon’s Chosen, you must stand as one who carries prophecy in her own blood. If you are not…” He spread his hands. “The Trial will break you, and the bond will die.”

The words lanced through her, cruel and sharp. She felt Kade’s fury surge beside her, his voice booming across the chamber.

“No trial decides her worth. No Council decides her fate. She is mine, and I will tear down this mountain before I let you—”

“Kade.”

Her whisper silenced him. His golden eyes snapped to hers, wild and feral. But she reached for his hand, squeezing, not just to reassure him but to anchor herself.

“If this is what they demand, then I will face it. Not because I am their prophecy, but because I am yours. Because I will not bow. Not to them. Not to fate.”

Something softened in his gaze, a flash of pride beneath the storm.

The Councilwoman in white pelts leaned forward, her lips curving faintly. “So the lamb bares its fangs.” She gestured to the envoy. “Begin.”

The circle of light blazed brighter. Stone cracked, opening like a wound in the earth. From the gap rose the scent of ash and iron, the sound of growls echoing up from the dark.

Lena’s wolf howled within her, not in fear—but in recognition.

The envoy’s voice rang. “First Trial: The Pit of Shadows.”

The floor split wide, revealing a chasm beneath the hall. Torches flared to life around its rim, throwing light into the depths. Shapes moved below—hulking, twisted forms, their eyes burning red. Not wolves. Not human. Things born of failed bonds, corrupted bloodlines, the Council’s discarded.

“Survive the pit,” the envoy said, voice cold as stone. “Prove you are not prey.”

Lena’s knees trembled. She forced them steady. Her wolf pressed at the edges of her skin, urging her forward, baring her own teeth.

Kade’s grip crushed her hand. His voice dropped, a growl meant only for her. “You don’t have to do this. Say the word, and we fight our way out together.”

Her heart thundered. Her body screamed to run. But she shook her head, lifting her chin.

“If I run now, they’ll never stop hunting me. Hunting us. Better to bleed once in the pit than bleed forever in their shadow.”

She pulled free of his grasp, stepping into the circle. The light climbed her skin, searing, until it swallowed her whole.

And then—she was falling.

The hall, the Council, Kade’s roar—all vanished.

Darkness closed around her, thick as smoke, reeking of blood and rot. Eyes glowed in the black, low growls circling her like wolves around wounded prey.

Lena bared her teeth, her wolf straining forward, ready to tear its way free.

Her first trial had begun.