Chapter 18: Fallout

The pack didn’t need an announcement.

They felt it.

By dawn, everyone knew something irreversible had happened. Guards whispered instead of joked. Patrols clustered in tight knots. Wolves who’d stayed carefully silent now watched each other like witnesses.

Neutral ground had vanished overnight.

Iria stood in the open courtyard as the first light crept over stone walls. She hadn’t slept. Neither had Kael.

“You shouldn’t be out here,” a warrior muttered as he passed.

“Then stop looking,” she replied calmly.

He didn’t answer—but he didn’t tell her to leave either.

That mattered.

The council convened publicly for the first time in days.

That alone was an admission.

The courtyard filled quickly. Wolves gathered in loose circles, pretending not to listen while hanging on every word.

Lorien stepped forward, voice raised just enough to carry. “Last night, the Alpha interfered with a lawful council action.”

Murmurs followed.

Kael didn’t interrupt.

“That action,” Lorien continued, “was taken to ensure pack stability.”

Iria felt the attention shift—some hostile, some uncertain, some sharp with curiosity.

Kael finally spoke. “You detained her without charge.”

“She is not pack leadership,” Lorien snapped. “She does not answer to you.”

Kael turned slowly. “Everyone in this pack answers to me when injustice is dressed as order.”

The word injustice hit harder than accusation.

Eldric raised a hand. “This is spiraling.”

“No,” Iria said clearly, stepping forward.

The sound of her voice cut through the space.

“This is clarity.”

Every eye snapped to her.

Lorien’s jaw tightened. “You should not be speaking.”

“That’s been the problem,” Iria replied evenly. “Too many people deciding who gets a voice.”

She turned to the crowd.

“You were told Kael left you,” she said. “That he chose absence over leadership.”

Ripples of reaction moved outward.

“You weren’t told about the vote,” she continued. “Or the law used to remove him. Or the fact that silence was easier than truth.”

Lorien barked, “This is manipulation!”

“No,” Iria said. “This is information.”

She didn’t shout.

She didn’t plead.

That terrified them more.

Kael watched her with a stillness that bordered on awe.

This wasn’t rebellion.

This was exposure.

“You risk destabilizing everything,” Eldric said hoarsely.

Iria met his gaze. “Everything built on lies deserves to fall.”

A beat.

Then someone stepped forward.

A patrol leader. Scarred. Respected.

“She’s right,” he said.

The courtyard froze.

Another voice followed. Then another.

Not agreement.

Acknowledgment.

Lorien’s face drained of color.

“This is mutiny,” he snapped.

“No,” Kael said quietly. “This is accountability arriving late.”

The fallout was immediate.

Two council guards removed their insignia and stepped back.

One elder excused himself and didn’t return.

Orders issued earlier that morning were quietly ignored.

The pack wasn’t choosing Iria.

They were choosing truth.

And that was worse.

Later, as the courtyard thinned, Iria leaned against the stone wall, exhaustion finally creeping in.

“You didn’t ask me to stop,” she said softly.

Kael shook his head. “If I had, you would’ve ignored me.”

“Yes.”

“And you would’ve been right.”

Silence stretched—not tense, not comfortable.

Real.

“They’ll regroup,” Kael said. “This isn’t over.”

“I know.”

“They’ll come for you differently now.”

Iria met his gaze. “Let them.”

The bond pulsed—still strained, still imperfect, but undeniable.

Across the courtyard, Lorien watched them from the shadows, eyes cold with calculation.

The council had lost control of the narrative.

Now they would try something else.

And fallout, Iria knew, was only the beginning.