"Tainted."
The word landed like a curse, rolling across the courtyard and shaking the stones beneath me as the pack's wild howls rose around me. I stood there, dazed, while Jasper's sentence echoed through me and the crowd reveled in my downfall.
Inside, the mate bond throbbed with his feelings—no joy, no cruelty, just a weary relief, as if he'd finally set down a heavy weight.
Elder Thorne stood, hands lifted for silence. Bit by bit, the crowd quieted, tension building.
"The Alpha has given his decree," Thorne intoned, voice steady and formidable. "Araya Varrow, you are judged unfit for the Luna title. The bond—"
"Wait."
The single word slashed through the quiet. Heads swiveled. Serenya, statuesque in white, glided to her feet. Each step down the platform was measured, theatrical, her gown trailing behind as if she were born to rule.
The pack parted for her, heads bowed. She stopped in front of me, radiating the confidence and adoration that I could never seem to grasp.
"Alpha Jasper," she called, her words carrying clear and strong, "may I speak?"
He gave her a brisk nod. His emotions flickered, curiosity, yes, but also that same cold finality.
Turning to the crowd, Serenya's expression softened, her voice adopting a gentle, sorrowful lilt. "I know my sister," she said, letting the word hang like an accusation. "I've seen her pain, her loneliness, these past weeks. I believe I can explain what's happened."
Dread pooled in my stomach. I knew what was coming would hurt more than any accusation.
"Araya has never known what it is to be wolf," Serenya said, drawing sympathetic murmurs from the crowd. "She's lived her whole life unable to shift, never feeling the moon's magic, always on the outside looking in."
Faces in the crowd shifted, anger morphing into pity.
"Is it such a surprise," she continued, "that she might make mistakes—might seek comfort wherever she could? Who among us wouldn't, feeling so alone?"
She wasn't calling me a monster. She was painting me as pitiful, broken. It stung worse than hate.
She turned to me, eyes shining with false tears. "Sister, none of us want this for you." She extended a hand, but I pulled away. "Please—just tell the truth. Admit you were lost. The pack might forgive."
My voice cracked as I answered, "I've done nothing wrong. Every word against me is a lie, and you—" I jabbed a finger at her, uncaring of the consequences, "—you masterminded it all."
Serenya recoiled, face registering perfect hurt. "Araya, how can you say that? I only want to help—"
"Help?" My voice broke. "You've spent weeks tearing me down, poisoning everyone against me, taking my husband, now you stand here in white, pretending to care, when you want nothing more than to see me ruined!"
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Serenya's face crumpled, her tears conveniently on display.
"I love you," she whispered, just loud enough. "You're my sister. How could you think—"
"Enough." Jasper's command cut through everything. He strode down from the dais, power radiating from every step, his anger a living thing pressing on the whole pack.
He stood over me, voice like thunder. "You accuse Serenya after all she's done for you? After she tried to help you?"
Through the bond, I felt his certainty, his belief that Serenya was the victim.
"You've lost your senses as well as your dignity," he spat. "Serenya's only shown you kindness, and this is how you repay her?"
"They're not lies—" I started.
"Silence!" The command crashed down, Alpha power slamming me to my knees. Pain ricocheted up my legs. Instinctively, I shielded my stomach.
Some wolves watched that gesture, faces hard—seeing it as proof of everything they believed.
Jasper's glare was ice. "You're guilty of betrayal and madness. You'd drag the innocent down with you."
"Jasper, please—" Serenya's voice trembled, thick with crocodile tears. "She's not well. Pregnancy, stress—"
"No." His voice was final, unyielding. "She's made her bed. She's spurned every chance for mercy and lashed out at those who tried to help. I won't let her poison this pack."
Elder Thorne rose, voice grave. "What fate do you decree, Alpha?"
The courtyard was silent as death.
I felt Jasper's verdict form—hard, merciless, with only a flicker of regret that changed nothing.
"I, Jasper Drevyn, Alpha, strip Araya Varrow of her Luna title." Each word was a stone on my grave. "She is no longer my mate, no longer of this pack, no longer under our protection."
Pain lanced through my chest, the mate bond fraying, every unraveling thread agony.
"Further," Jasper went on, "the child she bears is not mine, not Drevyn blood, not my heir."
"No," I whispered, voice ragged. "Don't—"
"The formal rejection is at sunset. Until then, you're confined. After, you'll be exiled, without pack, without mate. Survive as you can."
The courtyard erupted in cheers, but all I heard was the roar of loss in my head. I'd lost everything, title, home, safety, love.
Guards seized my arms, rough and impersonal. They dragged me away.
I caught a last look at Serenya, standing smug beside Jasper, her pristine white dress and unreadable smile.
She mouthed two words: I win.
They pulled me down the steps, through the jeering crowd, back to the rooms that would hold me until my exile.
The bond with Jasper continued to die, thread by thread, each break a fresh wound.
As they led me away, Jasper's voice rang out, cold and absolute:
"Tonight, I will name a new Luna, one worthy of Drevyn."
He didn't say her name.
He didn't need to. Every wolf in the courtyard knew.