Chapter 483: The Weight of a Verdict
The council hall felt smaller than it had any right to be.
The circular chamber was built to hold voices—arguments, strategy, fury, hope—but at this point, it held silence.
High above them, the carved timber ceiling curved like a ribcage over their heads, the intricate patterns catching the light. Madam Tyler always said the carvings were charms—protection etched into wood and history.
Tonight, they did nothing to soften what had to be said.
The long wooden table stood at the heart of the room, scarred by years of clenched fists and dragged blades and arguments that had shaped the fate of an entire pack. Chairs surrounded it in a familiar ring.
Almost every seat was filled.
Orion stood at the head of the table.
Beside him stood Brynhild.
Only six of them were present.
