Semua Bab Luna's Last Oath: Bab 81 - Bab 86

The silence between them lingered after Silas’s words, a silence so dense it seemed to reshape the walls of the chamber. Nicole’s chest rose and fell, her pulse hammering against the skin Silas’s hand had just held. She wanted to reach for him, to tether him before he unraveled further, but no Alpha, no leader could allow themselves to falter in that way with so many watching. Even if, for a heartbeat, she wished she could. Silas’s eyes searched hers, waiting for an answer that didn’t come. Then, with the jagged breath of a man turning away from a battlefield not yet lost, he stepped back. His shadow peeled off hers, retreating to the door. He didn’t slam it. Didn’t even growl. The quiet way he left hurt more than if he had. Nicole stood alone for a moment longer, the echo of his absence thrumming through her veins. Then the chamber doors creaked, and the council slipped back inside like wolves scenting blood..No one asked what had passed between them. They didn’t need to. The tension

The chamber was quiet. Too quiet. Nicole sat at the long stone table where council decrees had been carved into memory, her hands spread flat against the cool surface as though anchoring herself to it. The torches burned low, throwing unsteady shadows that made the carved walls ripple like water. Elara slipped inside, closing the heavy door behind her. She didn’t speak at once. The hush pressed on her lungs, and she could see that Nicole wore the silence like armor. Any careless word could be a blade in the wrong hands. “Elara,” Nicole said finally, her voice low, carrying that sharpened edge of someone who had given too many orders and heard too little truth. “You look like you’ve run through fire.” “I might as well have.” Elara’s throat tightened. “The courtyard, it’s not just unrest anymore. It’s war in miniature. Wolves tearing at each other while others watch. Waiting.” Nicole’s eyes flickered, but her expression held. No start, no break, only that steady stillness she had traine

The night pressed heavy over the stronghold, a silence that didn’t belong. Elara had learned, in the weeks since the war, to measure the air by sound, by the shuffle of paws against stone, the low murmur of voices in the halls and the restless echo of a pack trying to knit itself back together. Tonight, the silence was different. It was thick, expectant, as though the stones themselves held their breath. She hadn’t meant to linger in the eastern corridors. They were quieter, unused since the healers had moved to the lower wing, but something had drawn her, a whisper carried on instinct, perhaps, or simply the unease that came from too many nights overhearing things she was never supposed to. Elara had never thought herself brave. She was cautious, careful and invisible—those were the traits she wore like armor but invisibility often put her in places no one else noticed, and tonight it brought her to the shadowed alcove just before the council chamber.“…she isn’t ready to lead,” a vo