The pack square was already crowded when they brought me out.
Whispers rippled through the air like insects crawling over skin—fear, curiosity, suspicion. Every eye followed my movement as the guards escorted me forward. Some wolves looked away quickly. Others stared too long.
They all felt it.
The echo of the dream-bond still hummed beneath the surface of the pack, an aftershock that hadn't settled. Wolves shifted uneasily, their instincts on edge, reacting to something they couldn't see but couldn't ignore.
I lifted my chin anyway.
If they wanted a spectacle, I wouldn't give them weakness.
The Alpha stood at the center platform, expression carved from stone. His presence alone pressed down on the crowd, demanding silence. When he raised his hand, the murmurs died instantly.
"This gathering was not planned," he announced, voice carrying easily. "But what occurred last night cannot be ignored."
A low growl rippled through the crowd.
My chest tightened.
I didn't need to look to know they were there. The bond made that impossible. Even separated, I could feel them—restless, angry, tightly leashed. Three distinct presences pulling at me from different directions.
Contained. For now.
"The bond has activated beyond acceptable limits," the Alpha continued. "It has affected the pack."
Someone shouted from the crowd, "Is it true?"
Another voice followed, louder. "Is she cursed?"
I clenched my fists.
The Alpha's gaze snapped toward the speakers, silencing them instantly.
"There will be order," he said coldly. "Or there will be punishment."
The air thickened.
He turned his attention back to me. "You will speak."
Every instinct screamed to stay quiet. To shrink. To survive the way I always had.
But my wolf stirred.
No.
I stepped forward.
"The bond wasn't my choice," I said clearly. "I didn't summon it. I didn't provoke it."
A ripple of unease moved through the pack.
"You expect us to believe that?" an elder asked, stepping out from the council ring. Her eyes were sharp, calculating. "Dream-bonds don't occur without emotional consent."
The word consent burned.
"Then you don't understand how suppression works," I replied. "Or what happens when fate is restrained too long."
Gasps followed.
The Alpha studied me carefully, as though seeing me for the first time.
"You speak boldly," he said.
"I've been silent my entire life," I answered. "That hasn't saved anyone."
The bond flared faintly—approval, pride, something dangerously close to admiration.
I ignored it.
Another elder stepped forward. "If the bond continues to destabilize the pack, separation may no longer be enough."
My pulse spiked. "What does that mean?"
"It means," the Alpha said slowly, "choices will be made."
Before I could ask which ones, movement caught my eye.
She stepped out of the crowd with practiced confidence—tall, poised, dressed in pale ceremonial cloth. Her scent hit me a second later: sharp, possessive, deliberate.
A challenger.
"I will speak," she said smoothly, bowing to the Alpha before turning toward the council. "For the good of the pack."
My wolf bristled instantly.
"I am Lyris," the woman continued. "Daughter of the Eastern Beta. Bond-compatible with one of the Alpha heirs."
The air shifted.
One of the bonds flared violently.
I sucked in a breath.
"This bond," Lyris said, gesturing toward me without looking, "is unstable. Unnatural. It threatens leadership continuity. The pack needs strength—not emotional chaos."
Murmurs of agreement rose.
She finally looked at me then, eyes cool and assessing. "If the Moon Goddess truly seeks balance, she will accept a substitute."
My stomach dropped.
"You're proposing a challenge," the Alpha said.
"Yes," Lyris replied calmly. "A formal claiming trial. If she cannot stabilize the bond within the cycle, her place is forfeited."
Outrage surged through me. "I didn't ask to be claimed."
"That," Lyris said softly, "is irrelevant."
The bond roared.
Pain sliced through my chest as all three reacted at once—rage, denial, refusal crashing together. Somewhere behind the guards, a growl broke free, low and dangerous.
The Alpha raised his hand sharply.
"Enough."
Silence slammed down again.
He turned to me. "Can you control it?"
The question was quiet.
Deadly.
I swallowed.
"I'm learning," I said truthfully.
"That is not an answer," an elder snapped.
Before I could respond, my wolf surged forward—not violently, not recklessly, but present.
I am here.
The words weren't spoken aloud, yet they echoed through me, grounding and steady.
"I won't run from this," I said firmly. "And I won't be replaced."
The Alpha studied me for a long moment.
Then he nodded once.
"The trial will not proceed," he announced. "Not yet."
Lyris stiffened. "Alpha—"
"I said not yet," he repeated, steel in his voice. "This bond awakened power we do not fully understand. Until then, no claims will be made."
Relief warred with dread inside me.
"You will remain under observation," he continued. "All of you."
The bond tightened at his words—defiant, unresolved.
As the crowd slowly dispersed, whispers rising once more, I felt it settle deep in my bones—
This wasn't about love.
This was about control.
And the pack was afraid of what I was becoming.