The calm did not comfort the Council.
It threatened them.
Inside the circular chamber of the Alpha Council Citadel, tension coiled beneath polished stone floors and carved pillars. Reports lay scattered across the central table.
Aggression levels normalized.
Dominance surges reduced.
Rogue activity paused.
Every message confirmed the same impossible pattern.
Stability increased the farther Stacy remained from any territorial claim.
Alpha Darius stood at the head of the chamber, fingers resting lightly against the stone surface. His posture was composed, but calculation sharpened his eyes.
"She left structured territory," he said quietly. "And the continent steadied."
Victor of Iron Ridge crossed his arms. "Then that proves she is not a threat."
Darius turned his gaze slowly toward him.
"Or it proves she carries something that reacts unpredictably to hierarchy."
Cedric frowned. "You believe she is destabilizing Alpha authority itself."
"I believe," Darius replied evenly, "that power which functions only when unbound is not natural to our system."
Mateo of Storm Bay leaned forward. "Perhaps the system is flawed."
Silence fell instantly.
The idea hovered like forbidden smoke.
Darius did not raise his voice.
"Our system has preserved order for centuries."
"And nearly collapsed three days ago," Mateo answered calmly.
Darius turned away from them and walked toward the high windows overlooking the valley.
"History records instances of cursed bloodlines," he said, voice measured. "Individuals whose presence altered dominance patterns across territories."
Victor scoffed. "You are reaching."
"Am I?"
Darius turned back sharply.
"She dissolves a bond and three Alphas collapse. She steps outside territory and hierarchy weakens."
Cedric's jaw tightened.
"Hierarchy did not weaken. Instability lessened."
"Because tension dispersed," Darius replied.
"Which means we were too compressed," Mateo said.
Darius ignored him.
"There is another interpretation."
The chamber grew quieter.
"She carries an ancient imprint."
Victor frowned. "Anchor blood."
"Or curse."
The word echoed.
It did not belong in modern Council chambers.
But Darius let it settle deliberately.
"A curse does not always destroy," he continued. "Sometimes it unravels established power."
Cedric's eyes narrowed. "That is political framing."
"It is a precaution."
At Silver Crest, Mark received the summons before sunrise.
Emergency Council session.
Mandatory attendance.
The wording was sharper than before.
He did not hesitate.
Within the hour, he stood once again inside the Council chamber.
The atmosphere felt different.
Not unstable.
Suspicious.
Darius wasted no time.
"Alpha Ravenwood," he began smoothly, "we require clarification regarding your former Luna."
Mark's expression remained neutral.
"What clarification?"
Darius stepped forward.
"Does she display signs of spiritual anomaly?"
Mark's eyes sharpened.
"Define anomaly."
Victor shifted uncomfortably.
Darius continued calmly.
"Uncontrolled energy response. Influence over wolves without dominance assertion. Reaction from land or wildlife."
Mark did not answer immediately.
Because the honest answer would fuel their fear.
"She regulates," he said finally.
Darius nodded slowly.
"Without bond."
"Yes."
"Without territorial claim."
"Yes."
Murmurs rippled faintly through the chamber.
Darius clasped his hands behind his back.
"Then we must consider the possibility of cursed inheritance."
The temperature in the room seemed to drop.
Mark's dominance flared subtly.
"Be precise," he said coldly.
Darius met his gaze without flinching.
"There are records of bloodlines that carry corrective energy tied to the First Covenant."
Mateo's eyes widened slightly.
"You are invoking temple records now?"
Darius did not look at him.
"When corrective energy surfaces, it dismantles rigid hierarchy."
Victor exhaled sharply. "You are calling balance a curse."
"I am calling uncontrolled structural disruption dangerous."
Mark stepped forward at one deliberate pace.
"She has harmed no one."
"Three Alphas collapsed," Darius countered.
"Because the system overrelied on a bonded anchor."
Darius's voice cooled.
"You defend her easily."
"She is not on trial."
"She is if her existence undermines Alpha authority."
The words hit harder than intended.
Mark's gaze hardened fully.
"Authority that cannot withstand balance deserves to shift."
Silence.
Victor looked between them.
Cedric's expression darkened thoughtfully.
Darius tilted his head slightly.
"You speak as though you are prepared for that shift."
Mark did not answer.
Because the truth was still forming inside him.
Darius moved toward the center of the chamber.
"The Council will not risk continental destabilization," he said clearly. "Until we verify the nature of her energy, we must assume potential corruption."
Mateo shook his head.
"This is reckless."
"No," Darius replied. "It is protective."
Cedric leaned forward.
"What do you propose?"
Darius's answer came without hesitation.
"Spiritual examination under controlled ritual."
Mark's jaw tightened.
"You will not summon temple oversight without evidence."
Darius's gaze sharpened slightly.
"Priestess oversight is already being considered."
That caught even Victor off guard.
"The Temple does not answer to the Council," he said.
"Nor do we answer them," Darius replied. "But mutual preservation aligns."
Mark felt something shift beneath the conversation.
Not fear.
Strategy.
"They fear loss of dominance," he realized.
Darius looked at him steadily.
"Loss of structure."
Mark's voice lowered.
"If her distance calms the continent, why call it a curse?"
"Because," Darius said quietly, "if the continent stabilizes without centralized Alpha control, our authority becomes optional."
There it was.
Not superstition.
Political truth.
Cedric leaned back slowly.
"You are not afraid she carries a curse," he said. "You are afraid she proves we are not necessary."
The chamber fell still.
Darius did not deny it.
At that exact moment, a faint tremor moved through the chamber floor.
Not a dominance surge.
Something deeper.
The stone beneath them pulsed once.
Every Alpha in the room felt it.
Darius's expression shifted for the first time.
Mark inhaled slowly.
He recognized the energy now.
It was not chaotic.
It was ancient.
And it was not coming from Stacy alone.
Far in the eastern mountains, Priestess Miriam stood at the edge of the temple grounds.
She felt the accusation ripple across spiritual currents like a stain.
"Curse," she whispered.
The word carried weight in old language.
But it was misused.
She lifted her hand toward the horizon.
"That is not what you are," she said softly into the wind.
Back in the Council chamber, Darius straightened.
"Until verified, she remains a potential threat to structural stability."
Mark's eyes darkened.
"If you attempt containment," he said evenly, "Silver Crest will not comply."
Victor's head snapped toward him.
Cedric's expression sharpened.
Darius regarded him carefully.
"You would oppose the Council?"
"I would oppose fear disguised as law."
The tension in the room thickened.
Not explosive.
Measured.
Outside the citadel, the wind shifted sharply along the cliffs.
Unclaimed land breathed calmly in the distance.
And somewhere beyond territory lines, Stacy paused mid step.
A faint disturbance brushed her awareness.
Not aggression.
Suspicion.
She closed her eyes briefly.
They were moving against her.
Not physically.
Politically.
She exhaled slowly.
Let them speak of curses.
The land knew otherwise.
And deep beneath stone, soil, and centuries of rigid rule, something older than the Council had begun to wake.