Kaida did not want to seem weak, she was better than this. Though she knew tha was a lie she was telling herself, she did not want them to see her broken. She lifted her head watching Lena stepped forward as if she had rehearsed the moment a thousand times.
Her movements were graceful, controlled, every inch the future Luna the pack had always expected and wanted. She wore pale ceremonial leathers that reflected the moonlight, making her seem almost ethereal. Murmurs rippled through the crowd—not of surprise, but approval, admiration.
Kaida knelt at the base of the dais, still shaking, her wolf curled inward like a wounded animal. Every sound felt too loud. Every scent too sharp. Lena's presence burned.
Rowan reached for Lena's hand, his grip steady. When Lena smiled up at him, it was soft, reassuring— as though they had done this for centuries. The pack exhaled collectively, tension dissolving as the right choice was confirmed.
The bond between Rowan and Lena settled smoothly, without resistance. No blood. No agony. The moon accepted her as if this outcome had always been inevitable.
That realization cut deeper than the rejection itself.
For one brief moment, Lena's eyes met Kaida's. There was pity and sadness there. Sympathy. Even guilt. But there was also relief—relief that she had been chosen, that the danger had passed.
Kaida slowly turned away.
She understood then that Lena hadn't stolen anything. The pack had never believed Kaida was worthy to begin with. Love had not been a factor. Politics had, they always had.
As Rowan crowned Lena Luna, the pack howled in celebration. Kaida rose slowly, every movement deliberate, her face carefully blank, her steps heavy.
She refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing her break. If she was going to break it would not be in front of the pack that refused to acknowledge her existence.