The stronghold did not sleep after Elder Thorne's death. It breathed.
Low voices and hurried footsteps reverberated through the stone halls. Even as dawn drew near, torches burned brightly, their flames restless, snapping as though they sensed the tension winding inside the mountain.
Mira sensed it before she saw it, and the group was changing.
She stood at the narrow window of the outer chamber, watching Silverfang wolves gather in small clusters below. They spoke in hushed tones, heads bent close, eyes sharp. When some of them looked up and noticed her, their expressions hardened.
Not hatred alone but in fear.
And fear was far more dangerous.
The bond stirred uneasily, tugging at her chest. Ryker felt it too—she knew because moments later, the door opened and he stepped inside, his presence filling the room like a storm held back by sheer will.
"They're dividing," Mira said quietly.
Ryker did not deny it. "Yes."
"Over me."
"Overpower," he corrected. "You are just the spark."
He crossed the room and leaned both hands on the stone ledge beneath the window, scanning the courtyard. His jaw was tight, eyes dark with calculation.
"Thorne's death broke something," he continued. "He held the council together. Now every ambition thinks it has a chance."
Mira folded her arms. "You think he was murdered for that reason alone?"
"No," Ryker said. "I think he was murdered because he knew who was twisting the bond."
Her pulse jumped. "You know who it is."
"I suspect," he said carefully. "But suspicion without proof will tear this pack apart faster than truth."
A shout rose from below.
Mira leaned forward. Two wolves were facing off near the well—one older, broad-shouldered, bearing the scars of many battles, the other young, lean, eyes blazing with anger. Others gathered around them, voices rising.
"What are they saying?" Mira asked.
Ryker listened, his expression darkening. "They say an Alpha who cannot control his mate cannot control his pack."
Her chest tightened. "They want you to force the bond."
"Yes," he said. "Or kill you."
The words landed like ice.
Mira did not flinch. "And if you do neither?"
Ryker's mouth curved into a grim smile. "Then they will challenge me."
The bond pulsed hard—fear, anger, resolve.
"You'll die," Mira said.
"Maybe," he replied. "Or maybe they will."
She turned to face him fully. "You can't keep choosing me over your pack."
"I am choosing my pack," Ryker said. "I'm choosing what it should be, not what fear is turning it into."
Before she could answer, a horn sounded shortly, sharply, and demanding.
Ryker straightened. "The council is calling an open assembly."
Mira's stomach twisted. "That's not normal."
"No," he agreed. "It's a test."
Guards arrived to escort them through the corridors. As they walked, Mira felt the stares—some curious, some hostile, some calculating. A few wolves dipped their heads to Ryker in respect. Others did not.
The great hall was already full when they entered.
Silverfang wolves lined the walls, their voices falling silent as Ryker stepped forward. Mira walked beside him, spine straight, chin lifted, refusing to shrink.
At the center of the hall, the council stood—what remained of it.
Elder Mara was there, face drawn. Two others flanked her, their expressions hard. And standing slightly apart, leaning casually against a pillar, was Ryker's uncle. Kael Silverfang.
Mira felt the bond recoil.
Ryker felt it too. His shoulders stiffened.
Kael smiled slowly. "Nephew," he said warmly. "You look tired."
Ryker did not return the smile. "Speak your piece."
Kael pushed away from the pillar and faced the gathered pack. "We stand at the edge of ruin," he said loudly. "An Alpha refuses to act. A mate bond bleeds us dry. Elders die in their beds."
A murmur rippled through the hall.
Kael turned, his gaze settling on Mira. "And all because of her."
Mira met his eyes without blinking.
"You say that as if she asked for this," Ryker said coldly.
"She benefits from it," Kael replied smoothly. "She lives while our wolves die."
"That is a lie," Mira snapped.
Kael's eyes flicked to her. "Is it? Three of our wolves were killed in the raid for you. An elder is dead. And still you stand unclaimed."
The hall buzzed with anger.
Ryker raised a hand. Silence fell.
"The law allows delay," he said firmly. "I have invoked it."
Kael laughed softly. "Law bends when survival is at stake."
He turned to the pack. "How many more must die while our Alpha hesitates? How long before the Moon withdraws her favor completely?"
Mira felt the air shift.
Fear thickened.
"This is a challenge," Elder Mara said hoarsely.
Kael inclined his head. "It is."
Gasps echoed through the hall.
"I challenge Ryker Silverfang," Kael continued, "for the right to lead this pack and decide the fate of the Nightshade daughter."
The bond exploded with a warning.
Ryker did not move. "On what grounds?"
"Failure to protect the pack," Kael replied. "Failure to complete a fated bond. Failure to act."
Silence fell like a blade.
Mira turned to Ryker. "Don't."
His jaw clenched.
"If you fight him," she whispered, "you prove them right. If you lose..."
"I won't," Ryker said quietly.
Kael smiled wider. "The challenge will be decided by the Moon."
Elder Mara's voice shook. "At dawn tomorrow, in the Circle."
A roar rose from the pack—some eager, some afraid.
Kael stepped closer to Mira, lowering his voice so only she could hear. "You should know," he said softly, "your grandmother screamed just like you will."
Mira's blood turned cold.
Ryker moved in a blur.
Kael hit the stone wall hard, Ryker's forearm pressed against his throat, golden eyes blazing with barely contained fury.
"Say her name again," Ryker growled, "and I will kill you where you stand."
The pack froze.
Kael laughed, even as he struggled to breathe. "There it is," he rasped. "The Alpha who chooses rage over reason."
Ryker released him abruptly.
Kael straightened his coat, smiling as if he had won something. "Tomorrow," he said calmly. "We end this."
As the hall emptied, Mira stood rooted to the spot, heart pounding.
"He killed my grandmother," she whispered. "Didn't he?"
Ryker's face was grim. "Yes."
The bond pulsed in truth, pain, and fury.
"And he's going to kill you," Mira said.
Ryker turned to her, eyes steady. "Not if I kill him first."
Outside, the moon rose higher, full and watchful.
And deep beneath the stronghold, the ancient magic stirred again, hungry for blood, as the Circle prepared to choose its victor.