The council chamber was colder than usual.
Not in temperature — the hearth blazed — but in energy. The usual low hum of muttering elders and restless betas was gone. Silence pressed against the high stone walls, thick and watchful.
Evelyn stood at the center.
Alone.
Her hands, gloved in gray silk, rested lightly at her sides. Her chin tilted upward with calculated elegance. She had not come to beg. Evelyn Evernight did not beg.
But Aria was already there.
Flanked by Zara and Maya, dressed not in ceremonial silks but in armor—fitted leather dyed storm-black, marked by the sigil of SilverCrest’s Luna. The room hadn’t seen such armor worn by a woman in three generations.
Kael was nowhere to be found.
Evelyn noticed.
“You’re quite the showman, Aria,” Evelyn said, voice smooth as cream. “No throne yet you carry yourself like a queen.”
Aria didn’t blink. “I don’t need a throne. Just the truth.”
Gasps rippled through the elders.
Elder Corin, the oldest among them, leaned forward from his carved stone seat. “We’re gathered to hear testimony. Not riddles.”
Aria nodded.
She stepped forward.
“I have proof that Evelyn Evernight falsified healer reports, used her influence to sabotage the bond between Kael and myself, and manipulated the council into rejecting me as Luna before my trial was even complete.”
Evelyn’s eyes narrowed — just barely.
Zara stepped forward, holding a scroll sealed in gold wax.
“This,” Zara said clearly, “is a record of healer Ives’s logs. He never reported bond instability. That phrase was added weeks later, and not in his handwriting.”
The elder council fell into murmurs.
Aria continued. “I also have witness accounts from border sentries who intercepted letters Evelyn sent to StoneRidge — the very pack Kael was accused of conspiring with. She was negotiating Kael’s removal long before our bond was ever challenged.”
Evelyn laughed softly. “You’re relying on guards and gossip?”
Aria ignored her. “And finally—Kael himself.”
The chamber doors creaked open.
Kael stepped inside, eyes hollow but steady. His coat was gone, his face pale with exhaustion, but when he locked eyes with Evelyn, something hard glinted behind them.
He stepped forward.
“I confirm everything Aria said. Evelyn approached me under the guise of council guidance. She told me my bond with Aria was a threat to the pack’s survival. She said if I severed it willingly, she could ensure Aria would be safe.”
“You liar,” Evelyn snapped.
Kael didn’t look away. “You told me she was going to betray me. You said she carried a child that wasn’t mine.”
Evelyn’s face flushed red.
“She manipulated me into rejecting my mate,” Kael said. “And the moment I did, she made her move on the council. This was never about the pack. It was about power.”
Elder Corin raised a hand, silencing the room.
“We’ve heard enough,” he said. “Evelyn Evernight, how do you respond to these accusations?”
Evelyn’s mask cracked then.
Not entirely — she was too trained, too composed — but a flicker of fear danced across her features.
“You’re taking the word of a broken Alpha and his rejected mate?” she spat. “Aria is dangerous. She threatened the balance—”
“She carried your grandchild,” Maya said, voice low and trembling with fury. “You called for her banishment while she bled alone.”
Silence.
Evelyn looked at Aria now.
Truly looked.
“You were never meant to last,” she said. “You weren’t chosen. You were convenient. Disposable. I did what had to be done to keep SilverCrest whole.”
Aria took one step forward.
“You poisoned the bond. You destroyed lives. And worst of all, you taught a generation that love is weakness.”
Her voice shook.
“But not anymore.”
She turned to the council.
“I’m not asking for exile. I’m asking for the truth to be named. Publicly. Let the pack see who Evelyn really is.”
Elder Corin nodded.
“Very well.”
He stood.
By ancient rite, his voice would seal judgment.
“Evelyn Evernight, you are stripped of your council seat, your honor, and your titles. You may remain in SilverCrest, but you will not hold sway over its governance, future, or legacy.”
The chamber echoed with shock.
Evelyn swayed slightly.
“You can’t…” she whispered. “You can’t erase me.”
Kael spoke then, voice low and final. “You erased yourself the moment you chose fear over family.”
Evelyn’s hands trembled. For the first time, her composure truly fractured.
“I built this pack,” she hissed. “I kept it alive during wars, famines—”
“And you’ll live to watch it heal without you,” Aria said, steel in her voice.
Guards approached.
Evelyn didn’t resist. But her gaze never left Aria’s.
“You’ll regret this,” she said. “You always loved the fire. But it burns everything eventually.”
Aria’s reply was soft.
“Then I’ll rise from ash.”
The doors closed behind Evelyn.
A hush settled over the room.
And then—one by one—the elders rose.
And bowed.
To Aria.
