The doors of the Council Hall groaned open.
Aria stepped inside, chin high, shoulders squared beneath her dark cloak. The moment her boots touched the marble floor, the low murmur of voices fell to silence. Every Elder. Every Alpha. Every adversary.
And Kael.
She didn’t look at him.
Instead, she kept her gaze fixed on the ornate chair once reserved for Luna Verena Draven — Kael’s mother. Her throne, inherited from a line of Lunas with blood that ran deep in SilverCrest’s soil.
Aria had once stood behind that chair as the bonded mate.
Today, she approached it as a threat.
The Elders sat in a crescent formation, robed in shades of ash and gold. High Elder Merek, gaunt and wolf-eyed, tapped his staff once.
“Aria Vale,” he intoned. “You were summoned to answer claims of heretical lineage. You chose instead to send a sealed envelope. Do you now bring the truth in person?”
Aria stepped into the circle.
“I bring the truth in my blood,” she said.
A ripple of unease passed through the room.
She opened the leather scroll case in her hand and produced two items: a document embossed with the sigil of the StoneRidge Seers… and a single piece of ancient cloth — embroidered with the Vale family crest entwined with that of the original Luna line.
Kael stood.
“What is this?” His voice was hoarse.
Aria’s eyes flicked to him, but only for a heartbeat.
She turned to the council. “The Seers confirmed it. I am not just a Vale. I am descended from Luna Seraphine — first daughter of the SilverCrest bloodline. Her second-born fled during the blood culling. She settled in the east, married into the Vale name, and protected the line in silence. Until me.”
High Elder Merek narrowed his eyes. “And you waited until now to reveal this why?”
“Because I didn’t want power,” she replied coldly. “Not until it was the only weapon I had left.”
Behind her, the crowd murmured. Aria raised the scroll.
“Signed by the Seer of StoneRidge. Confirmed by blood-match ritual. Witnessed by Zara Keene and Elder Alric. I am of Luna Seraphine’s line.”
Kael’s knuckles tightened on the back of his chair.
“You’re claiming a bloodline that hasn’t held legal weight in generations.”
“It was never revoked,” she countered. “It was erased. Buried. Like everything else they didn’t want remembered.”
A silence fell — thicker than before.
Then Evelyn rose.
The venom in her voice was laced with condescension. “Even if this were true, what are you suggesting? That you outrank the sitting Alpha’s lineage?”
Aria smiled, sharp as a blade.
“I’m suggesting you underestimated who you discarded.”
Elder Merek held up a hand. “Silence. This changes the terms of the Council’s oversight.”
He turned to the recordkeeper. “Bring forth the charter.”
The great book was unsealed and laid flat. Aria watched as fingers turned through pages the color of bone. There — near the center — was the clause she’d found in the archives weeks ago, sleepless and seething.
Any she-wolf proven to bear the blood of the founding Luna line shall be granted full claim to matriarchal succession, with rights of challenge and inheritance, should she be denied her rightful place.
Elder Merek looked up.
“The clause is valid. Forgotten, perhaps. But valid.”
Kael spoke, finally — voice tight. “And what does she want?”
Aria met his gaze full-on.
“I want what is mine. What you denied. Not because I was unworthy — but because you were too much of a coward to stand against the past.”
Silence.
Then — she turned to the Council.
“I don’t want the throne. Not yet. But I want it known — to every pack from here to the rim — that the bloodline lives. That SilverCrest does not belong to the Dravens alone. That I am no rogue. No discarded mate.”
She paused, hand resting on her belly.
“That my child — your heir — is not born of weakness. But of legacy.”
The words hit like a thunderclap.
Evelyn swayed where she stood.
Kael’s jaw clenched. His eyes darkened — not with rage, but with recognition. She’d changed the game. No matter what followed, her position was now carved in stone.
Elder Merek’s voice rang clear.
“Let it be recorded. Aria Vale of the Seraphine bloodline claims ancestral legitimacy. This council recognizes her standing. Any future judgments must reflect her station.”
The gavel struck.
Done.
The crowd broke into hushed chaos.
Aria turned, cloak flaring behind her as she walked away — not as a mate. Not as a mistake. But as a bloodborn Luna who refused to kneel.
