The night air was cold, biting against Elara's skin as she sat huddled in her cabin. The herbs she had gathered lay forgotten on the table, their soft fragrance doing nothing to calm her trembling hands.
She pressed her palms against her face, forcing herself to breathe. The Alpha King's words still thundered in her mind.
"You are mine."
It was madness. Impossible. She had no scent, no bond, no claim. She was a rejected Omega—broken, unwanted. The King could have any she-wolf in the realm, and yet he had looked at her as though fate itself had delivered her to him.
A knock shattered the silence. Sharp. Demanding.
Her heart lurched. She rose slowly, hesitating before pulling the door open.
Two enforcers stood outside, broad-shouldered and grim, their leather armor gleaming in the moonlight. Their expressions carried no warmth, only duty.
"Elara of the Silverfang pack," one said, his voice clipped. "The Council summons you."
Her blood turned to ice. "The… Council? Why?"
"Your behavior toward the King has raised questions. Come."
Her lips parted, a protest rising, but one look at their cold, unyielding eyes silenced her. They weren't here to answer. They were here to drag her if she resisted.
Swallowing her fear, Elara grabbed her cloak and stepped into the night.
---
The Council Hall loomed at the heart of the pack grounds, its stone walls lit by torches that crackled against the darkness. Wolves gathered in the square, drawn by whispers of what had happened earlier. Their eyes followed her as she walked, curiosity and scorn mingling in their gazes.
"Why her?"
"She must have bewitched him."
"She'll shame us all."
Elara kept her head low, but the words cut deep, reopening wounds that had never truly healed. She had survived rejection once, survived being branded as worthless. But this—this new storm—threatened to drown her.
Inside, the Council members sat in a semicircle, their robes trimmed with silver thread, faces etched with authority. At the center sat Elder Kael, his sharp gaze heavy as it fell on her.
"Step forward, healer," he commanded.
Elara obeyed, her knees weak but her back straight.
"You stand before us accused of deceiving the Alpha King," Kael said, his voice carrying through the hall. "It is whispered you used charms or potions to trick him into claiming you."
Her chest constricted. "That is not true."
"Then explain," another Council member said sharply. "How could the Alpha King sense a bond to you when you carry no scent? A true mate bond cannot be forged from nothing."
The hall murmured in agreement, eyes burning into her as if they could strip the truth from her skin.
"I don't know," Elara whispered, shame curling in her stomach. "I never asked for this. I never sought his attention. He came to me."
"Convenient," Kael said coldly. "And yet dangerous. If the King believes you his mate when you are not, he could drag our entire pack into ruin."
The weight of his words pressed down on her, suffocating. She opened her mouth, desperate to defend herself—
The doors slammed open.
Every head turned.
Darius Blackthorn strode into the hall, his golden eyes glowing, his presence flooding the chamber with raw power. The air thickened, heavy with dominance, forcing even the Council members to bow their heads.
Elara's breath caught as his gaze locked on her.
"Enough," he said, his voice a low growl that silenced the hall. "You speak as though I am blind. As though I do not know my own bond."
Elder Kael straightened, though sweat beaded on his brow. "Your Majesty, with respect, this claim defies all reason. The healer carries no scent. We only wish to protect you from deceit."
Darius's lips curved into something cold, dangerous. "You believe I can be deceived?"
Silence. No one dared answer.
He stepped forward, his cloak sweeping the ground, until he stood beside Elara. His hand brushed her shoulder, a simple touch that sent a jolt through her entire body.
"She is mine," he said, his voice cutting like a blade. "No Council, no law, no whispered lie will change that."
Elara's heart thundered. She wanted to protest, to deny him again, but the heat of his hand on her shoulder burned through her defenses. Her wolf stirred, restless, yearning, betraying her with every beat of her heart.
Elder Kael's lips thinned. "If that is your will, Alpha King, then so be it. But the pack will not trust her. A Luna without a scent is no Luna at all."
Darius's eyes gleamed, a flicker of something savage in their depths. "Then they will learn."
The hall fell into uneasy silence.
At last, Kael inclined his head, though bitterness lined his voice. "Very well. But if she fails you, King, the blame will be hers alone."
Darius ignored him. His hand lingered on Elara's shoulder a moment longer before he turned to her fully, his voice dropping to something only she could hear.
"Do not fear them," he murmured. "Stand tall. You are mine, and none will harm you while I breathe."
Her throat tightened. She wanted to pull away, to scream that he was wrong, that she couldn't survive another bond. But her body betrayed her again—her pulse racing, her wolf keening softly inside her, drawn to him despite her fear.
And for the first time, a terrifying thought took root in her heart.
What if he was right?
What if fate hadn't made a mistake at all?