The whispers had started the morning after the naming.
Not loud. Not direct. But Aria could feel them slithering through the halls of SilverCrest like cold wind under a door.
“She doesn’t wear his mark.”
“The baby didn’t react to him.”
“She’s stronger than any heir. Too strong.”
Zara had warned her. The pack had seen Kael as their Alpha for too long, and seeing him reduced to a silent shadow in Elara’s orbit unsettled them. The hierarchy had been cracked—and now they were sniffing out who truly led.
Aria stood at the training field’s edge, arms folded as a group of warriors sparred under Zara’s watchful eye. They were sharp, coordinated… but all stole glances at her.
And none bowed to Kael when he passed.
He joined her without a word, gaze fixed on the warriors.
“Something’s shifted,” he said.
Aria didn’t look at him. “It’s been shifting for a while.”
“They don’t trust me anymore.”
“They trusted the version of you the Council built.”
Kael turned to face her. “And what version do you see?”
She met his eyes. “The one who flinched when his daughter looked at him.”
The truth hung heavy between them.
He sighed. “I’m trying, Aria.”
“I know. But trying doesn’t undo what was done.”
Behind them, Elara’s soft coo echoed from the nursery. Even from here, Aria’s ears tuned to it like a compass drawn north.
“She doesn’t need a father,” Aria said quietly.
Kael’s jaw clenched. “I don’t believe that.”
“That’s the problem,” she replied. “You still think she was born for your redemption.”
That night, the council sent another message—not by envoy, but by decree.
It arrived sealed in obsidian wax and marked with the triple moon sigil, a subtle threat laced in formality.
Kael read the scroll first. His face darkened with each line.
“They want to initiate a paternity inquiry,” he said. “Claiming Elara’s powers suggest unnatural conception.”
Aria took the scroll, scanned it, and tossed it into the fire without hesitation.
“They can burn with it.”
Kael blinked. “That’s it?”
“They’ve made it clear. This isn’t about blood. It’s about control.”
“They’ll use the inquiry to delegitimize her.”
“They can try.”
He stepped closer, hands at his sides. “Let me stand with you publicly. A joint declaration. We name her together. We assert her right.”
Aria tilted her head. “So they see a united front? A pretend bond that’s already dead?”
“I’m still her father.”
“No,” she said firmly. “You’re her sire. That’s biology. Fatherhood is something else.”
He recoiled as if struck.
Aria’s voice stayed level, but her eyes burned. “Where were you when they severed me before the council? When I bled in silence while you stood beside Evelyn?”
“I thought—”
“You didn’t think,” she snapped. “You chose.”
The air thickened with power. The baby stirred in the next room, as if feeling the spike of her mother’s fury.
Kael stepped back, hands shaking. “So what now? I disappear?”
“No,” Aria said. “You rebuild. Quietly. Away from spotlights. Away from Elara—until she’s old enough to decide if she wants you.”
His mouth opened. Closed.
“And what if she doesn’t?”
“Then you learn to live with the consequences of your choices—like I did.”
Silence stretched between them.
Kael’s shoulders sagged. “You’ve grown cruel.”
“I’ve grown protective.”
Outside, wolves howled—low, uncertain.
And for the first time, Kael heard it not as a song of loyalty… but warning.
Later, Aria sat in Elara’s nursery, the baby curled peacefully against her chest. The fire was low, the night heavy with snowfall beyond the window.
Zara entered without a word, handing her a steaming mug. “I heard.”
Aria took it with a nod. “They’re panicking.”
“They always do when they lose control.”
She glanced down at her daughter. “She deserves better than politics and posturing.”
“She has it. She has you.”
Aria’s voice softened. “I know Kael’s trying.”
“I know,” Zara said gently. “But love doesn’t excuse failure.”
They sat in silence for a while, listening to Elara’s soft breathing.
“She doesn’t need a father,” Aria whispered again, this time not in anger—but in clarity. “She needs truth. Protection. And space to grow into what she already is.”
Zara smiled faintly. “Then she’s already ahead of most of us.”
Outside, the storm thickened.
Inside, a mother held her daughter and didn’t flinch from the path ahead.
