As Amara walked back through the corridors. Every step felt heavier now that she carried the weight of prophecy and the map's revelations in her pockets.
At the council chamber's doors, Lucian paused. His gaze met hers, silent but fierce. Together, they stepped inside.
The room stilled. Theo's dark eyes narrowed. The gray‑bearded elder cleared his throat.
"Alpha Blackwood brought the… Bloodmoon Child," he intoned.
Murmurs filled the room . Lucian's jaw tightened.
She stood beside him, her heart pounding, shoulders squared. She caught Theo's glare and held his stare.
"I know why I'm here," Amara said firmly. "And I know what I'm meant to be."
Silence swelled around her words.
Lucian stepped forward. "She will train under our best. You will respect her, or answer to me." His voice cut through the chamber.
The council exchanged glances. Finally, the gray‑bearded elder nodded. "So be it."
With that, the ancient pact was renewed beneath flickering torchlight, Amara would learn the wolves' ways, control what lies within her.
Later, under a blood‑silver moon, Lucian guided Amara to the training grounds. The pack's finest warriors gathered in a circle.
He placed her hands on the hilt of a short sword. "Balance strength with restraint," he murmured. "Your power is born of fearlessness and fear."
Amara nodded. Her She swung the blade experimentally. It felt clumsy, foreign, until Lucian's hand gently steadied her grip.
"Not like that," he said, his voice softer now. "Let it flow through you.
She inhaled, steadied her stance, and struck again. This time, the blade sliced the night air with purpose.
Amara's chest fluttered with triumph.
They returned to the manor at dawn. Lucian walked beside her, silent. Neither spoke of what the council said. Words weren't needed.
Amara knew her summer had changed. She was no longer just a city girl on vacation for three months instead, she was part of something older than history, bound by moonlight and blood.
Lucian's cloak brushed her arm as they climbed the steps; she looked up, surprised to see a flicker of something pride, in his eyes. Then, as always, he masked it with cool indifference.
But she saw it.