The hall smelled of cedar smoke and burning pine.
Selene's steps echoed across the polished stone floor as she entered, every sound too loud in the silence of the great chamber. Torches lined the walls, their flames flickering shadows that danced like watchful spirits. At the far end of the hall, upon a carved throne of oak and iron, sat the Alpha of Silvercrest.
Selene felt the weight of him before she even truly saw him.
Alpha Kael.
He was not young, his beard streaked with silver, his hair cut close in the manner of seasoned warriors, but age had not softened him. If anything, it had sharpened him. His shoulders were broad, his posture unbending, and his eyes an unrelenting steel gray locked on her with such focus she felt as though he could strip away her very soul. Power radiated from him in invisible waves, brushing against her skin like static.
Beside him stood a woman, elegant and graceful, her dark hair braided with silver threads. Though softer in expression, her presence was equally commanding. The Luna, Selene guessed. And around them sat the elders of Silvercrest six men and women, each cloaked in dark furs, their gazes a storm of curiosity, suspicion, and whispers left unsaid.
Damon moved ahead of Selene, stepping into the circle of light. He bowed his head low, his voice strong.
"Alpha Kael. We found her, as you ordered."
Kael's eyes shifted from his Beta to Selene. The silence stretched long, so heavy she thought her chest might collapse under it. Then finally, his voice rolled through the hall, low and commanding.
"Your name."
Selene straightened her spine, lifting her chin as her father once taught her. Even trembling inside, she would not appear broken before them. "Selene Darius."
The name rippled through the chamber like a stone cast into still water. Whispers rose among the elders. She caught fragments: Darius Alpha's daughter last heir
Kael's eyes narrowed, recognition hardening his features. "Darius." He spoke the name like a stone grinding against another. "So the rumors are true. The rogues destroyed your pack."
Selene's throat ached. The memories surged unbidden her father's command to run, the howls of wolves turning to screams, fire swallowing the night. She forced the words out, her voice steadier than she felt. "Yes."
The Luna stepped forward, her voice a contrast to Kael's storm. "And you alone survived?"
Selene hesitated, her heart twisting as if betraying her family again by speaking it aloud. "Yes."
A hush fell. Every eye in the hall pressed against her. Some were softened with pity, others sharpened with suspicion, and some colder still eyes that already weighed her life against their own survival.
Kael leaned back in his throne, his hands gripping its carved arms. His gaze never wavered. "Then you are the heir. The last."
The words rang heavy, more final than even her parents' deaths. The last. The final thread of the Darius line, reduced to a single nineteen year old girl who had fled instead of fallen.
Selene's jaw tightened. "I never asked to be anyone's heir."
The Alpha's eyes glinted, his tone like the snap of a branch underfoot. "The moon rarely asks."
The phrase struck her again, echoing Damon's earlier words, as though they were reciting from the same creed. Frustration flared inside her chest, sharp as claws. She wanted to scream that she was no pawn of fate, no tool for their prophecies. But before she could speak, one of the elders a man with a hooked nose and robes lined with white fur rose to his feet.
"Alpha Kael, with respect, we cannot allow this girl to remain among us. The rogues will come. They will not stop until she is dead. To shelter her is to invite war upon Silvercrest."
Murmurs of agreement rippled through the chamber.
Another elder, a woman with hair bound in a crown of braids, leaned forward. "The Blood Moon Prophecy is a riddle, not a promise. Who is to say she is the heir it speaks of? Prophecies twist truth. They lead wolves to ruin as often as to salvation."
A third elder, younger than the rest, slammed his palm against the table before him. "And what proof do we have? She is a girl who claims a name. Perhaps she is no heir at all, but a tool sent to draw our strength thin."
Their voices rose and tangled, echoing like thunder in the high ceiling.
Selene's wolf bristled within her, restless, growling against their accusations. But she kept her back straight, her face cold. She would not beg. She would not explain herself to those who had already decided she was a burden.
Kael raised his hand, and silence fell as swiftly as a blade striking stone. His eyes, sharp as steel, never left hers.
"Prophecies are not ours to dismiss," he said, voice steady, cutting through the doubt like a knife. "The Blood Moon spoke of fire, of loss, of one heir who would rise when the night seemed endless. Her family is ash, her pack no more. Yet she stands here, alive."
Selene's breath caught. She hated how his words rang too close to truth.
Kael's gaze bore down on her. "I do not think her survival was chance."
Her fists clenched at her sides. She forced her voice steady, though inside it trembled. "And what if I don't want your prophecy? What if I just want to live?"
The hall fell into silence again. Elders shifted, glancing between Alpha and heir. A wolf pup daring to defy destiny.
For the first time, Kael's expression shifted. Not softened, but measured, as if weighing her strength against her denial. Then, slowly, he inclined his head.
"Then live," he said. His words were not cruel, not kind, but resolute. "But you will do so under Silvercrest's watch, until the moon reveals its full design."
The decision settled like stone, unchallengeable. The elders bowed their heads reluctantly. Some eyes flickered with resentment, others with wariness, but none dared speak against their Alpha.
Relief and unease tangled in Selene's chest. She was not cast out. But she was no guest either. To them, she was prophecy wrapped in flesh, danger wrapped in blood.
The Luna stepped closer, her gaze softer than her mate's. "You will have a chamber in the eastern wing. It is yours until you choose otherwise. You have suffered, child. No one here will deny that."
Her kindness threatened to crack the wall Selene had built inside her. She looked away, swallowing the tightness in her throat.
When the gathering dismissed, the elders filed out, their cloaks whispering against the stone. Damon lingered at her side, his expression unreadable.
"That could have gone worse," he murmured.
Selene turned on him, her glare sharp. "That felt like being caged."
Damon's lips twitched, not quite a smile. "Better a cage than a grave."
Her chest burned with anger at his calm certainty. She wanted to snap that she was no bird to be locked away, no weakling needing rescue. But the words caught in her throat, because deep inside she knew without Silvercrest, she might not survive the night.
She turned away, refusing to give him the satisfaction of reply.
Later, a young attendant led her through winding stone corridors to a chamber overlooking the valley. It was simple but warm: a fur draped bed, a basin of water, a window carved into the wall where moonlight poured in like liquid silver.
When the attendant left, Selene stood at the window, staring at the night. The forest stretched beyond the walls, vast and dark, and in its shadows danger lurked. She could almost feel eyes upon her even now, watching, waiting.
The moon hung full and pale above the trees, its glow wrapping her in a cold embrace.
She whispered into the silence, her words a promise or perhaps a challenge.
"If I am truly the Moon's last heir, then I will decide what that means."
The wind shifted, carrying a whisper of wolves howling far beyond Silvercrest's gates. Not friendly howls, but the ragged cries of rogues.
And somewhere in the shadows, eyes gleamed red patient, hungry, unyielding.