The fracture in the stone basin had not been repaired.
It remained in the center of the council chamber the next morning—a jagged reminder that something ancient had broken.
Something they could not control.
Nyra stood in the courtyard at dawn, blade strapped to her thigh, posture rigid. But inside, nothing felt stable.
The oath was gone.
She could feel it.
The tight, invisible chain that had always wrapped around her thoughts—commanding obedience, silencing hesitation—was no longer there.
Her mind was her own.
And that terrified her more than any battlefield.
Footsteps echoed behind her.
"You feel it too."
Kaelen's voice.
Low. Controlled.
She didn't turn. "I feel the absence of something."
He stepped beside her. Close—but not touching.
"The oath was never meant to break," he said quietly. "It has bound Executioners for generations."
"Then why did it break for me?"
His silence lasted too long.
Her wolf stirred.
Because she already knew the answer.
The bond.
The impossible, violent spark that had ignited between them.
Before either of them could speak again, the horn sounded.
Five blasts.
Not a council summons.
A declaration.
The courtyard gates opened.
The elders entered, flanked by armed guards.
Not ceremonial guards.
War guards.
Nyra's hand instinctively moved toward her blade.
Morvain stepped forward, scroll in hand.
"Alpha Kaelen Draven," he announced, voice amplified by authority and poison, "you are hereby accused of conspiracy against Nightfall Dominion."
The courtyard erupted in whispers.
Kaelen did not react.
"Conspiracy," he repeated evenly.
"Yes," Morvain continued. "Secret meetings beyond pack borders. Interference in council decisions. Undermining established law. And most concerning of all—tampering with the Blood Oath binding the Executioner."
Nyra felt every eye shift to her.
The air thickened.
Kaelen's gaze flicked toward her only briefly before returning to the council.
"I tampered with nothing," he said calmly.
"But the oath shattered," Morvain pressed. "Under your influence."
The word influence curled through the courtyard like smoke.
Dangerous.
Suggestive.
A growl vibrated low in Nyra's chest before she could stop it.
Kaelen heard it.
So did everyone else.
Morvain's eyes gleamed.
"There," he said softly. "The Executioner reacts."
Nyra stepped forward, voice cold as winter steel.
"I react because you insult my Alpha."
Gasps rippled outward.
Not my throne.
Not my ruler.
My Alpha.
Possessive.
Instinctive.
Uncontrolled.
Kaelen's jaw tightened slightly.
Morvain seized the moment.
"Your loyalty is compromised."
"It is not," she snapped.
"Then prove it."
The courtyard fell silent.
Morvain turned slowly toward Kaelen.
"Until a full trial can be held, Alpha Kaelen Draven is to be detained."
Shock spread like wildfire.
Detain the Alpha?
Guards shifted uneasily.
No one moved.
No one wanted to be the first to put chains on him.
Kaelen looked at Nyra.
Not command.
Not fear.
Something deeper.
Resignation.
"If you resist," Morvain added smoothly, "the Executioner will be required to carry out her duty."
The words dropped like a blade.
The meaning was clear.
If Kaelen fought—
Nyra would be ordered to kill him.
The courtyard felt too small.
Too tight.
Kaelen lifted his chin.
"I will not resist."
Murmurs erupted again.
Nyra turned sharply toward him. "You cannot submit to this."
His eyes softened—but only for her.
"This is not the time to fight."
Chains were brought forward.
Silver-lined.
Designed to suppress an Alpha's strength.
Nyra's wolf exploded against her ribs.
No.
This was wrong.
Everything in her screamed it.
But there was no oath binding her anymore.
No magic forcing obedience.
Only choice.
And that was far more dangerous.
The guards hesitated.
Kaelen extended his hands willingly.
The chains snapped into place with a metallic echo that seemed to crack something inside her.
Morvain smiled.
"Until judgment is passed," he declared loudly, "the Executioner will oversee the prisoner."
Silence.
Nyra went cold.
"Oversee," she repeated.
"Yes," Morvain said softly. "If the Alpha attempts escape… you will fulfill your role."
The unspoken words hovered in the air.
You will execute him.
Kaelen's gaze locked with hers.
Unshaken.
Steady.
Trusting.
The guards began leading him toward the lower cells carved beneath the keep.
Nyra followed.
Because she always followed.
But this time—
Not because magic compelled her.
Because she chose to.
And that choice terrified her more than the accusation.
As the heavy cell door slammed shut behind Kaelen, the world seemed to narrow.
Stone.
Iron.
Chains.
And him.
He sat calmly on the bench, wrists bound.
She stood outside the bars.
Blade at her side.
Guardian.
Executioner.
Mate.
The last word pulsed through her mind like fire.
Kaelen watched her carefully.
"They are forcing your hand," he said quietly.
"They think I will kill you."
"Would you?"
The question was not mocking.
Not afraid.
It was honest.
Her throat tightened.
Her wolf surged forward, pressing against her skin, howling in denial.
She stepped closer to the bars.
Close enough to see the faint scar across his jaw.
Close enough to feel the heat radiating from him.
"If I must," she said.
A lie.
He saw it.
Of course he did.
His voice dropped lower.
"Then I suppose we will have to ensure you never receive that order."
The air between them shifted again.
Charged.
Alive.
Dangerous.
Above them, the council prepared a trial.
But in the darkness of the cell—
Something far more powerful was beginning to awaken.
And if the council thought chains could contain an Alpha—
They had gravely underestimated the Executioner.