The transition from the velvet luxury of the gala to the damp stone cells of the Council's High Sanctuary was a violent reminder of Sera's mortality.
Alistair had been dragged away in heavy silver chains, his roar of defiance echoing through the halls until it was cut off by the slamming of a vault door. Sera was left in a circular stone chamber, illuminated only by the pale, cold moonlight streaming through a high, barred window.
The High Elder stood outside the bars, his grey eyes devoid of emotion. "The Trial of the Three Deaths is not a physical execution, Seraphina. It is the systematic stripping away of your claim. The First Death is the Death of Silence."
"And the rules?" Sera asked, her voice rasping but steady. She was already mentally opening the 'Ancient Rites' book in her mind.
"You will be placed in the Pit of Shadows with three hungry, unranked wolves from Alpha Kael's pack. You are forbidden to speak a command. You are forbidden to call for your Mate. If you make a sound—a scream, a plea, a prayer—you fail. If you survive until dawn without a sound, you pass."
* * *
The Pit was a deep, sandy arena beneath the sanctuary. Sera was lowered into it with nothing but the tattered remains of her platinum gown.
The scent hit her first—the foul, wet-dog smell of the Omegas of Serpent Ridge. Kael had chosen his most desperate, most abused wolves for this. They didn't see a Luna; they saw a piece of meat that represented their only chance to please their cruel Alpha.
Three pairs of glowing red eyes emerged from the darkness.
Sera backed against the cold stone wall. Her heart was a frantic drum, but her mind was calculating. If I scream, I die. If I fight physically, I die. I have to use the Law.
The first wolf, a mangy grey beast, lunged. Its jaws snapped inches from her throat. Sera didn't scream. She threw her body to the side, the sand scraping her skin raw.
She realized then: these wolves weren't just hungry. They were drugged with wolfsbane to keep them in a state of perpetual frenzy. Kael had cheated.
* * *
Sera closed her eyes for a split second, searching for the connection. The Mate bond was a dull, throbbing ache in her chest, muffled by the silver dampening the sanctuary.
I cannot speak to them. But the Law says I cannot speak a 'command'. It says nothing about the 'Ancient Tongue'.
Sera didn't use her voice. She used her blood.
She deliberately pressed her arm against a jagged stone on the wall, letting a deep crimson trail of blood run down the rock. In the moonlight, her blood—the blood of the Alpha's Mate—carried a potent, shimmering scent that even the drugs couldn't mask.
The wolves froze. The scent of an Alpha's Mate was a biological stop sign. It was the scent of 'The Den'.
Sera moved slowly, ignoring the searing pain in her arm. She didn't speak. She knelt in the sand and traced a specific sigil she had seen in the Book of Ancient Luna Rites—the sigil of Sanctuary.
She stared into the eyes of the lead wolf. She didn't show fear; she showed the cold, absolute authority she had used to dismantle Mark's company. She was telling them, through her posture and her scent: I am the Alpha's soul. To touch me is to invite the wrath of the Moon.
The wolves whined, their predatory instinct clashing with the primal reverence for the Luna's blood. They began to circle her, but the aggression was gone. They were confused. They were... protecting her.
* * *
At dawn, when the High Elder and Kael looked down into the pit, they didn't find a shredded corpse.
They found Seraphina Thorne sitting in the center of the arena, her arm bloodied but her expression crystalline. The three wolves were curled around her like loyal hounds, their heads resting near her feet.
She hadn't uttered a single sound.
"The First Death is conquered," the High Elder announced, his voice tinged with a reluctant, microscopic sliver of respect.
Kael slammed his fist against the railing. "She cheated! She used her blood!"
"The Law forbids speech, Kael. It does not forbid the blood's truth," the Elder countered.
He looked down at Sera. "Prepare yourself, human. The Second Death is the Death of the Mind. You will face your past, and we will see if your 'loyalty' survives the truth of Alistair Thorne's secrets."
Sera stood up, her legs shaking but her head high. She had survived the wolves. Now, she had to survive the Alpha's shadows.
END OF CHAPTER FIFTEEN.