Before the sun even rose, Allister was back in the adjoining room, pulling Sunflower roughly to her feet. His worry was so strong it was like metal in his mouth. He had gotten only short, painful bursts of sleep, constantly listening to her silent, vibrating presence on the other side of the wall.
"Listen to me, and listen carefully," Allister hissed, his face inches from hers. He had to stand close to her to maintain the mask of an Alpha in control. "You will tell them your name is Sunflower, you are a lone wolf, and you were looking for supplies in the ruins. You will admit to being a minor mixed-blood, but you will not name your non-wolf family line. You were not looking for a book; you were scavenging. Understand?"
Sunflower's gold and purple eyes were watchful, but lacked the usual fire of defiance. She looked genuinely shaken, her energy focused and dangerously intense.
"And what about the Alpha who had a mental breakdown when he touched me?" she countered softly. "Do I tell them that I'm your destined mate, and your body is rejecting the idea?"
Allister grabbed her shoulder, his grip punishing. "You mention the mate bond, and I will be forced to execute you immediately for treasonous lies. They must not suspect the pull. They must only suspect you are a threat I can contain. Elder Maeve will be leading the questioning. She is cruel, she is ancient, and she will smell weakness like blood in the water. Do not give her anything."
"Charming," Sunflower muttered, but she nodded. "Right. Scavenger. Got it."
He bound her wrists loosely with soft leather a formality designed to calm the pack, not actually hold her power. Then, he led her out of the room, past the watchful, disapproving figure of Celeste, and down the winding hallways lit by torches toward the Great Hall.
The Hall was a heavy, overwhelming space. Seven Elders sat in a semi-circle beneath the pack's ancient, silver-etched sigil. The air was thick with the overpowering scent of tradition, authority, and years of unchallenged power. The eldest, Elder Finn, sat in the center, but it was Elder Maeve, a thin, silver-haired woman whose face was a map of suspicion, who held the true power. Her scent was cold iron and sharp, critical intelligence.
Allister led Sunflower to the center of the room, pushing her gently onto a low, uncomfortable stool. He stood directly behind her, seemingly guarding her, but in reality, using her small frame as a shield against the Elders' combined focus.
Maeve leaned forward, her eyes a brittle, pale blue, examining Sunflower with the clinical detachment of a predator.
"You are a mixed-blood, known only as Sunflower," Maeve's voice was a dry, rasping sound. "You were caught illegally entering and attempting to disrupt the ancient boundary markers. Is this correct, little weed?"
Sunflower's chin tilted up. "My name is Sunflower. I was illegally entering. The markers were already crumbling, but yes, I was trying to retrieve a specific object from the ruin." She left out what the object was, telling just enough truth to sound believable.
"And why were you so desperate to retrieve this 'specific object'?" Maeve pressed, her voice dripping with doubt.
"It was a sentimental item," Sunflower said easily, deploying her defiant sarcasm. "My grandmother hid it there years ago. It's an old map. I figured, if I was going to be running forever, I might as well have a proper route."
The lie was weak, too casual. The Elders exchanged silent, scornful looks.
"A map," Maeve said slowly, clearly unimpressed. "And you expect us to believe that you, a lone, low-grade mixed-blood, would risk a full Alpha patrol for a map fragment that your grandmother hid?"
Allister felt his muscles tense. This was the moment. The Elders were about to demand proof that she was a real threat, or demand her immediate execution as a nuisance.
Before he could interrupt, Sunflower shifted slightly on the stool. Her eyes met Allister's, a look of shared, desperate recognition passing between them. Then, with a subtle movement, she lifted the hand that was not bound by the leather thong and gently tapped the hip where Allister had hidden the forbidden black book after their questioning.
I have advantage, her unspoken mental thought flashed across the broken bond, sharp and undeniable. I know what I found.
Allister felt a wave of icy panic. If she revealed the book the one that detailed the Shattered Treaty and the forbidden Fae bloodlines it would expose a history the Elders wanted buried and prove he was hiding treasonous information.
He forced himself to appear calm. "Elder Maeve, the object is a fragment of a very old territorial chart. It is useless to us, but it is clear her motive was territorial, not malicious. We need to focus on what she knows about the southern border, not her family souvenirs."
But Maeve's eyes had gone past him. She was looking at Sunflower. "Where is the map now, mixed-blood?"
"The Alpha has it," Sunflower replied smoothly, not breaking eye contact with Maeve. "He is keeping it safe, as it's dangerous to leave such sensitive documents lying around."
The Elder's suspicion solidified. She didn't smell a lone wolf; she smelled a secret being protected by her Alpha.
The combined focus from the Elders intensified, all seven pairs of eyes boring into Allister, demanding the truth. The pressure was immense a heavy mental weight meant to break even the strongest wolf.
Under the unbearable stress, the broken bond between Allister and Sunflower, already vibrating with terror, violently snapped.
It wasn't a connection; it was a devastating pulse of white noise and pure, mental agony. A single, intense wave of disruptive energy radiated outwards. Only the highest-ranked wolves, the Elders, sensed the disturbance.
Allister gasped, staggering back a half step. His vision swam, and his ears rang painfully. Elder Finn, the oldest, clutched his temple, his face momentarily twisted in discomfort.
"What was that?" Maeve's eyes narrowed, now fixed not on Sunflower, but on Allister. She hadn't felt an attack; she had felt a strange, clashing frequency the painful result of two souls fighting an unnatural, forbidden connection.
Allister fought to stabilize his breath. "She attempted psychic resistance, Elders," he lied, his voice gravelly. "It was a crude, desperate attack."
Maeve stared at him, her gaze cold enough to freeze blood. She did not believe him. She did not smell an attack; she smelled a conspiracy.
She waved a dismissive hand, silencing the Hall. "The questioning is concluded. The creature is unstable. However, her execution would draw unwanted attention to the boundary markers and her people. We will not give her a hero's death."
Maeve rose slowly to her feet, her gaze sweeping over the Hall, finally settling on Allister with chilling finality.
"The mixed-blood known as Sunflower will be kept in the Alpha's custody, within his personal quarters, as a hostage. This is necessary to ensure she poses no threat to the pack, and to determine the extent of her knowledge. Furthermore," Maeve's voice dropped, becoming an iron decree, "the pack's safety cannot be risked by distracting instability. Alpha Allister, your mate choice will be formalized and announced within the next three sunrises. You will choose a pure-blood to secure the Silverwood family line and purge the pack of this temporary problem."
Allister stood frozen in place. They had seen the broken bond, and their answer was to force him into a political marriage with his rival. They were forcing him to choose between the safety of his people and the life of his fated, forbidden partner.
He looked at Sunflower, who was staring back with a mixture of fear and a horrifying, growing realization. They were trapped. They were roommates, hostages, and doomed lovers, and now the clock was ticking down to the moment Allister would be forced to choose Celeste and let Sunflower die.