KAEL – POV
They made her wear white.
Not the ceremonial kind. Not the silk and moonstone of a Luna chosen by her mate. This was linen—rough-hewn, sleeveless, sleeved in ash. She stood at the center of the obsidian amphitheater with her shoulders square, her hands unbound, her eyes untamed.
They still made her wear white. As if purity could be forced.
My jaw ached from how tightly I held it clenched.
Three rings of Seers stood above us, cloaked in black, faces shadowed by veil magic. The Council chamber was carved into the mountain's heart, a place older than the Courts, older than the wars. Magic breathed through the walls like a sleeping god, and still—
She didn't bow.
Ayla didn't even blink when the lead Seer called her name.
"Ayla of Thornridge. Step forward."
Her voice rang clear. "I already have."
A few gasps.
I fought the smile clawing up my throat. Not now. She needed steel, not softness.
