The chamber was quiet, save for the soft breaths of the sleeping child in Aria’s arms.
She stood at the edge of the SilverCrest nursery, bathed in the silver light of the moon streaming through the high windows. Her daughter — pale lashes fluttering, tiny fingers curled against her chest — slept with the kind of peace Aria had never known.
Everything had led to this moment.
And yet, the question still haunted her.
Now what?
Behind her, the council chamber waited. The final decree sat on the table — the one that would enshrine her as Alpha Luna of SilverCrest. Not by bond. Not by mating. By right.
Her right.
But the decision wasn’t as simple as claiming a title.
It was about choosing who she wanted to become.
Zara entered softly, carrying a folded ceremonial cloak. “They’re ready for you.”
Aria nodded but didn’t turn. “Is this what we fought for, Zara? A title? A crown? Another seat at the table that cast me out?”
Zara stepped beside her, gaze on the baby. “You didn’t fight for a crown. You fought for her. And for every she-wolf who comes after.”
“I’m tired of fighting,” Aria whispered.
Zara touched her arm. “Then lead. So they don’t have to.”
Aria looked down at her daughter. So small. So still. So full of a future not yet written.
Would stepping forward mean giving up the part of herself that had just begun to heal?
Would power become a new prison?
She closed her eyes and remembered the howl she let out the night Kael severed the bond — the ache, the disbelief, the fury.
And she remembered the strength that rose afterward.
This wasn’t about revenge anymore.
It was about rewriting the story.
She entered the council chamber with her head high.
The room fell silent.
Elder Merek stepped forward, parchment in hand. “Aria Vale. Do you accept the mantle of Alpha Luna, not by bond, but by decree of the council and the will of the pack?”
Aria looked at Kael, who stood at the far end of the room. Not dressed in Alpha black, but simple grey. He gave the faintest nod — not encouragement, but acceptance.
She turned back to the council.
“No.”
Gasps echoed.
“I don’t accept it as Alpha Luna,” she said. “I accept it as Alpha. No qualifier. No title bound to a man.”
Merek’s brow rose. “Unprecedented.”
“No,” she said. “Long overdue.”
A beat.
Then Merek bowed.
“So it shall be.”
Applause erupted — tentative at first, then rising into a thundering roar.
Zara placed the ceremonial cloak around her shoulders. The crescent clasp gleamed against her chest.
Aria turned to the wolves of SilverCrest — some who had doubted her, many who had watched her rise.
“I will not promise perfection,” she said. “But I will promise this: the old rules will not return. Bonds will not be severed without voice. Mates will not be silenced. Our daughters will not grow in fear of our sons.”
She stepped back and raised her daughter for all to see.
“This is the future. And I will guard it with everything I have.”
The pack howled their answer.
And for the first time, Aria howled with them — not in pain, not in exile, but in power.
