The next day, the whispers became rebellion.
A young wolf, Brenn, stood before the pack, his eyes sharp, his voice filled with defiance. "We bleed because of her! Every battle, it is her fire that brings the shadow. Every night, it is her flames that keep it alive!"
Kael's wolf surged, his claws sliding free, his voice a roar. "Enough!"
But Brenn did not cower. "You may love her, Alpha. But she will destroy us all. I would rather die fighting shadow than burning in her fire."
The pack stirred, growls and howls rising. Wolves shifted, sides drawn—not between Alpha and shadow, but between Alpha and mate.
Kael's green eyes blazed, his fury trembling on the edge of violence. But before he struck, Aradia stepped forward, her fire flaring in her palms.
"Then face me," she said, her voice shaking but strong. "If you believe I am curse—kill me. If you believe I am fire—stand with me."
Silence. The wolves froze, their golden eyes flicking between her and Kael.
Brenn faltered. For a heartbeat, the rebellion cracked.
And Kael stepped forward, his wolf roaring, his body towering over them all. "She is mine. My mate. My Queen. If any wolf dares raise claw against her, they raise claw against me. And I will tear them apart."
The den silenced. For now.
But the cracks had spread.