Chapter 7
The pressure in the council hall was so heavy, it felt like the air could drip water.
Today was Isolde’s first time sitting at Alec’s left-Luna’s seat.
Around her, the Elders watched with cool or unreadable expressions, like waiting for a slip, a stumble, a
failure.
Selah sat farther down the hall in a crimson gown, the color deep and deliberate. She smiled as she lifted
her teacup, the reflection of her grin shimmering against the surface.
Chaos was coming. She could taste it.
Debate rose steadily among the council. Some challenged Alec’s foreign policy. Others took thinly veiled
jabs at Isolde’s bloodline.
Then.
A single wolf’s howl cracked through the ceiling.
Glass exploded from the skylight above.
Three shadows dropped from the broken panes, streaking straight toward them.
Isolde rolled instinctively, silver blade already in her hand, slashing upward into the first attacker’s chest.
Blood sprayed the marble floor. Screams filled the room.
The council hall plunged into chaos.
Alec stood but didn’t move forward-not yet.
He watched. He wanted them all to see-this Luna could protect herself.
The second attacker lunged as Isolde rose, pinning her against one of the columns. Claws raked down her
arm, searing pain jolting through her, white-hot and blinding.
She didn’t cry out.
She twisted, driving the dagger into his gut and kicked off his body to throw him back.
The third was faster.
Partially shifted, half-wolf, he came from the side like a shadow, claws gleaming midair. One strike, and he would’ve torn open her throat.
But just as the blow came down.
A tall figure blurred between them.
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Leander.
His arm, already shifting, caught the claws head-on. Blood burst from his shoulder.
“Run!” he growled.
But she didn’t move.
Her eyes were steel.
“I’m not running.”
She dropped low, catching the attacker’s arm with her silver chain, jerking it behind his back, spinning him
off balance. The move was fluid, brutal. Precise.
The Elders could only stare.
The Omega they had mocked, the girl they’d whispered about in corners-now stood bloodstreaked and
unshaken, the embodiment of a white wolf in mid-hunt.
The last echoes of the fight rang through the hall.
The three attackers were dragged to the center and held down.
Alec stepped forward, voice sharp as frost.
“Who sent you?”
Silence.
An Elder barked an order. One of the attackers gave a twisted smile, teeth streaked red.
“Someone… wants her dead.”
Before more could be said, he bit down hard.
A sharp crack. Poison filled his veins.
He collapsed,
The hall erupted.
Gasps. Shouts. Panic.
Alec narrowed his eyes, just about to speak.
When Isolde stepped forward first.
Her voice rang clear.
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“If someone wants me dead, I’ll find them myself. No matter who it is.”
Selah’s lashes lowered. She smiled faintly, the picture of innocence.
Isolde’s gaze snapped to her.
“Selah,” her voice was icy, “do you deny your involvement in the attempted assassination of the Luna?”
Selah gave a soft laugh, like she’d just heard the most ridiculous accusation in the world.
“How absurd.”
But then, Alec rose from his seat.
His expression was unreadable.
“I’d like to know that too,” he said quietly.
“Why did you do it?”
A heavy thud echoed through the council hall as a stack of papers hit the table.
A wire transfer. A record of the assassination fee.
Signed, unmistakably, in Selah’s handwriting.
Her fingers trembled.
In that moment, she realized that it was a trap.
She whipped her head toward Isolde.
But Isolde only sat there calmly, fingertips brushing the rim of her teacup, as if she had known this outcome all along.
She had baited Selah. Leaked just enough to draw her into a meeting with the assassins, while Alec stationed guards in the shadows.
That signed transfer? It wasn’t stolen.
Isolde had orchestrated it-through a broker-until Selah wrote it herself.
Selah’s voice finally cracked. “You… You set me up?”
Isolde rose from her seat and walked slowly to stand before her.
Her gaze was level. Her voice, a blade.
“This is what you owed me. And what you owed my parents.”
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Selah’s mask shattered.
She lunged forward with a growl, but the guards were already on her, forcing her to the ground.
Alec turned to the council, his voice ringing through the stone chamber.
“According to the laws of the pack-treason and attempted murder warrant only one punishment.”
“Her wolf will be stripped. Her name, exiled from this bloodline.”
Not a single Elder spoke in protest.
As Selah was dragged out of the hall, her screams of agony echoed down the corridor. Her breath
weakened, her wolf soul forcibly torn from her.
The moment her strength was stripped away, she collapsed to her knees like a ruin, her body trembling
uncontrollably.
Leander stood to the side, breath caught. His face was pale, stunned, aching with disbelief.
“You can’t-”
His voice broke. “You can’t do this-”
“You’re done,” Alec said, cutting in coldly.
Chapter 7
