Elara had her head down, tears gathering in her eyes but she stubbornly refused to let them fall.
Her chest heaved with ragged breaths, each inhale burning her raw lungs, while the sting of her bruised skin reminded her of the harshness she had endured.
She could feel the rough stone floor pressing against her knees, her gaze now stayed fixed downward, as if hiding from the world.
"I pardon her!" Lucian's voice echoed through the grand hall, sharp and commanding, reverberating against the stone walls and making Elara's breath hitch in disbelief.
Her body froze, her muscles taut, and for a moment the pain in her back and arms seemed to dull under the sheer shock of hearing those words.
She slowly lifted her head, her tear-filled eyes glistening as they scanned the hall, searching for any hint of deceit, any sign that she had misheard him but everyone was just like her shocked, that's when her eyes fell on her father.
Seated on the seat reserved for the beta, he was looking at her as if she was nobody to him, Elara felt herself breaking into pieces he was here all the time and had not once tried to plead for her.
She looked away from him refusing to let it be in her mind any longer she knew her step mother and step sister would be here too but she didn't look for them, they might have been the happiest all this time.
Then she turned back towards Lucian, the room spun slightly, her battered form struggling to stay upright, yet she forced herself to meet his gaze, desperate for clarity.
Rosaline, unable to contain her fury, sprang from her seat, her voice piercing through the stunned silence. "Alpha! How is that possible?! She tried to harm you...our mate bond!" she screamed, her hands trembling and her chest heaving with raw anger.
Every word dripped with disbelief and malice, her entire body radiating the tension of someone who had meticulously plotted for this moment, only to see it crumble before her eyes.
Lucian's gaze turned toward her, cold and unyielding, the kind of stare that could freeze the blood in one's veins. Rosaline's outburst faltered, her body shivering involuntarily as the weight of his silent command pressed down on her.
"Don't dare to raise your voice in front of the Alpha ever again, Rosaline!" he said, his tone low, dangerous, and unrelenting, like the calm before a storm.
Rosaline sank back into her seat, her knuckles whitening as she gripped the armrest, already plotting how she would remove that wolfless mutt from her path.
Every fiber of her being screamed that the girl's continued existence was a direct threat to her carefully built claim.
Lucian's attention returned to Elara, his eyes falling on her battered, kneeling form. The guard behind her kept his sword pointed at her back, rigid and tense, ensuring she could not move even an inch.
Her hair, matted with sweat and blood, fell in damp strands around her face, but her wide, tear-filled eyes captured his attention entirely.
Pain lanced through him at the sight, a sharp, cold ache that he quickly tried to push aside, forcing himself to focus on the reality of the matter.
He had already let that pang of feeling influence his pardon, but he could not allow it to cloud his judgment any further.
"I was drugged, making me believe that she was my mate, and that resulted in me marking her," he said, his voice steady and authoritative, addressing the pack members assembled in the hall.
His words carried the weight of truth, resonating with an authority that left no room for doubt. "I have pardoned her life because that drug was not life-threatening to me, so she won't get a death penalty. But her punishment will be that I won't reject her, and she will bear the mark while I claim my real mate, Rosaline Velmora."
The hall gasped as one, the sound echoing like a wave of disbelief through the chamber. The pack had expected that perhaps Lucian might be swayed by the battered, tearful form of the wolfless girl, but the cruelty of leaving her with his mark while simultaneously claiming Rosaline was sharper than any blade.
Elara's knees finally buckled under the weight of the words, her body crumpling to the ground as if the last thread of her endurance had been cut.
The pain from her injuries, from every bruise, every cut, and every harsh blow, surged all at once, leaving her unable to support herself any longer.
She was trembling, every breath shallow and ragged, feeling the cruel edge of reality settle over her like a heavy shroud.
She had wondered, after all this chaos, after the pain and the cruelty, why Lucian had pardoned her.
For a fleeting moment, hope had flickered in her chest, fragile as a candle flame. But that hope was quickly suffocated by the cruel reality, she was now sentenced to something far more feral than death itself.
A small, bitter smile touched her lips as she thought of the truth: she didn't even have her wolf. Her body, already battered and drained, would be pushed to the limits, subjugated to the extreme agony that this punishment would inflict.
Even if she had her wolf, the sheer intensity would feel like death, but this… this was worse. A darkness loomed at the edges of her vision, swallowing the world, and then everything around her turned black as her consciousness finally gave way.
Lucian's eyes followed her as she crumpled to the floor, unconscious, and a tight knot of tension coiled in his chest. His instincts screamed at him to rush forward, to scoop her into his arms and shield her from further harm, but he forced himself to remain still.
Every fiber of his being wanted to move, to comfort her, yet what he had seen while unconscious and the solemn words of Elder Myrath kept him frozen.
He had to endure the feelings stirred by those drugs, the false perceptions and unnatural pulls, or risk letting chaos claim control over him.
His jaw tightened as he watched the guards lift Elara away, her small form seemingly weightless in their grasp. And yet, each step they took echoed in his mind like a hammer, pounding him with memories of the dream he had while unconscious.
••••
Lucian stared down at his own hands, rough and steady, trembling ever so slightly as the memory of what had transpired flooded back. He had fallen unconscious shortly after marking Elara, his own mate.
The realization hit him like a tidal wave, knocking the breath out of him. Elara was his mate? That meant Rosaline had been lying all along. Rage ignited within him, a searing heat that pushed every other thought away.
But before anger could fully consume him, he realized he was no longer anywhere familiar. The walls he knew, the floor beneath his feet, even the air itself had been replaced by a strange, choking heat.
Flames roared around him, blistering and immense, their heat so oppressive that he could barely stand.
And then, over the roar of the flames, he heard it. A voice, silky and venomous, carrying both accusation and truth, curling around him like smoke:
"Stupid love… Wasn't that what you craved from her?
Yet you turn away, Blind to the fire I placed in your hands..
The love you needed, The love I gave, While you ran chasing shadows.
Open your eyes, Before the silence swallows you whole. See truth... See what was always here. And when the truth cuts through at last, Don't place the blame on me.