Chapter 273
Chapter 273
Elara’s POV
“Open your eyes, brother.”
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His lashes twitched. Cael’s breath scraped shallow, then steadied. Eden lifted the cup to his mouth and tipped a small sip. The inner infirmary smelled like herbs and iron. Torches hummed low. Mira stood at the door with her shield up. Thorne leaned in the shadow, arms folded, eyes on me, not the light.
Cael blinked once. Twice. He found me. “You stayed.”
“I sit when you breathe. I stand when you sleep,” I said.
He tried to smile. It hurt. “Still bossy.”
Eden squeezed his wrist. “Keep it short.”
Cael’s hand groped for mine. I took it. His palm felt too hot. “Say your name,” he whispered.
“Elara.”
“Not enough,” he said. “Say the one that fits.”
I shook my head. “We can do titles later.”
He tightened his grip with what strength he had. “Later is a lie they use to keep us small.”
A hush slid across the room. Even the torch seemed to wait.
Elder Briar slipped in with a bundle of linen and a leather book. He bowed to Cael, then to me. “You called for record.”
“I did,” Cael said. His voice was sand and will. “Bear witness.”
Eden moved to protest. I lifted a hand. “Let him.”
Cael drew a breath that looked like it hurt. He still made it sound easy. “Luna of Two Moons is proof. It is not the point. The point is unity. The packs follow Alpha words. They always have. They always will.”
I felt the weight of that line settle on my ribs. “Cael.”
He looked at me, eyes clear through pain. “You are not only my Luna. Not only my sister. You are the future of werewolf unity.”
The words cracked something old inside me and poured heat into the space.
He nodded to Elder Briar. “Write it.”
The elder opened the leather book and wet his pen. “Speak.”
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Cael’s voice went stronger. “By Blood Moon law and the witness of this hall, I name Elara as Alpha. Not acting. Not waiting. Alpha Elara of Ashfang Hollow, Regent of the alliance in war, keeper of the Moon Flame charge.”
Thorne let out a breath that sounded like a stone leaving his chest. Mira’s knuckles tapped her shield once. Eden stood very still.
Elder Briar wrote fast, lips moving with the words. He lifted his gaze. “Signed how.”
Cael reached for the seal ring at his neck. His hand shook. Thorne stepped forward, caught the chain, and slid the ring free. Cael pressed the seal into wax on the margin. The stamp set. The mark bled clean.
Garron pushed through the doorway like a storm that had lost its way. “You cannot rewrite order from a sickbed. The elders need a full circle. The Alphas must vote.”
Cael did not turn his head. He spoke like the room was only him and me. “Any Alpha who needs a vote to follow the only person keeping his wolves alive should step down now.”
Garron’s jaw bunched. “Tradition.”
“Tradition is a chain if it keeps us from living,” Cael said. His voice did not rise. It did not need to.
I set my palm on the book. My skin left a smudge of ash I had not washed from the Trial. “Record this line as well,” I said to the elder. “Inside the fight, my mark holds. Outside the fight, I convene the council at dusk. Any Alpha who fails to appear loses his seat until winter.”
Elder Briar dipped his pen. “Recorded.”
Garron folded his arms. “You will lose half the hall.”
“Then they did not belong in it,” I said. “They can send apologies with spring.”
Thorne stepped around the cot and went to one knee. He did not look at my feet. He kept his eyes on mine. “Direstone swears to Alpha Elara in battle and in quiet. My oath is clean.”
The room shifted. Jory, who had slipped in to bring hot water, went to one knee without being asked. Mira lowered her shield and bowed her head. Eden bowed only his chin, which meant more. Elder Briar bent deeper and touched his pen to the floor, Garron did not kneel. He did not speak. He stared like a man who had swallowed a knife and wanted to see who put it on his plate.
Cael’s breath roughened. “Thorne.”
Thorne looked at him. “Brother.”
“Stand at her left,” Cael said. “When she breaks, you hold. When you break, she holds.”
“I already do,” Thorne said,
“Then say it louder,” Cael said.
Thorne stood. He faced the door so the hall could hear. “Direstone stands at Alpha Elara’s left. Any wolf who doubts can test it at the ring. He will leave on his back.”
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A murmur rippled in the outer corridor. Feet shifted. No one tested it.
Eden touched the bandage at Cael’s wrist. “Enough. Your heart needs quiet.”
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“Later,” Cael said again, and this time his smile reached the edge of his eyes. He looked at me. “Come close.”
I leaned in. Our foreheads almost met. His voice went to thread. “The beasts inside us want simple answers. You cannot give them simple. You give them honest.”
“I will,” I said.
“Promise out loud,” he said.
“I promise out loud,” I said. “I will tell truth even when it hurts. I will hold teeth back when I can. I will bare them when I must.”
He closed his eyes. “Good. Now go make unity feel like meat, not words.”
A runner skidded in the doorway, breath gone, hair stuck to his forehead. He saw the ring on the wax and swallowed hard. “Alpha.” He looked at me when he said it. “Hawks from Wyrmshade. The exiled sent a parley call to three border seats. They offer safety if we stand down by dawn.”
“Dawn,” Thorne repeated. “They count on fear at night.”
Mira lifted her shield. “We can still reach the mill before full dark.”
Eden checked my side with quick fingers. He frowned at what he felt, then nodded. “You can ride, but you eat first.”
I took the cup from his hand, drank once, then set it down. “We ride.”
Garron’s mouth curled. “To where. To which brother. To which fire.”
I turned my head and met his eyes. “To the one they want most. If we protect the bait, they starve.”
Elder Briar closed the book and wrapped it in linen. “The record must be carried to the vault.”
“Jory,” I said. “You take it. You do not stop. If anyone asks you for it, spit in his ear and keep running.”
Jory grinned, tucked the bundle under his vest, and vanished like he had been born in a wall.
I faced Cael again. “I will bring you a hall that feels like a pack, not a market.”
“Bring me a war that ends,” he said.
“I will try.”
“Do not try,” he said, “Do.”
He slipped toward sleep. The weight in the room did not lighten. It focused.
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I straightened. “Mira, four shields ready to move in ten. Eden, send a hawk to Fenreach and Ridge. Tell them the title change is law. Tell them to hold the border and burn any fake crest they find. Vessa, pull two from Dusk for silent eyes on the mill. If they see girls moved, they do not act. They light the lantern twice and wait. Thorne, bring Direstone’s fast wolves. I want the left path closed by moonrise.”
Mira tapped her shield. “Done.”
Eden’s bead clicked. “Already writing.”
Vessa’s voice came from the hall. “Copy. Two shadows, low breath.”
Thorne moved to the door, then paused, hand on the frame. He looked back at me. “One order more.”
“Say it,” I said.
“Give the beasts something to follow that is not fear,” he said. “Tonight.”
I looked at the small altar in the corner of the infirmary. Old stone, smooth from hands and knees. A bowl sat there, cold. No fire. No show. I walked to it. I took the taper from the ledge and lit it at a torch. I set the small flame in the bowl and let it burn.
Elder Briar’s eyes softened. “Simple.”
“Honest,” I said. “If you need a sign, here is one you can touch.”
Garron snorted. He did not leave. That was enough for now.
Another runner arrived, younger than the first. He pushed a sealed tube at me, shaking. “From Fenreach. They ask if the title is real or a trick.”
I broke the seal with my thumb. The wax cracked like thin ice. The slip inside held three words. No crest. No flourish.
We stand ready.
I showed it to Cael even though his eyes were closed. I wanted him to hear me say the next line. “Good,” I said. “Now the others.”
Eden held up two fingers. “Hawks away.”
“Then send a third,” I said, “To Wyrmshade.”
“What words,” he asked.
“Clear ones,” I said. “Alpha Elara recognizes no parley made under threat. Any seat that breaks rank tonight will stand alone tomorrow.”
Thorne returned with a leather case. He opened it and held up an old torque of dark metal, smooth with age. “This was your father’s.”
My chest pulled tight for one breath. I took the torque. It was heavier than it looked. “I do not need a collar,” I
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said.
“You need a symbol that shuts mouths,” he said.
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“Then let it be one that opens hands,” I said. I set it around my neck. It sat cold and sure.
Mira grinned. “Now you look like trouble we can follow.”
“Good,” I said. “Follow.”
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We moved for the door. Garron stepped into my path and held out a dagger handle first. “Use this to cut lies,” he said.
I studied him. “Why the gift.”
He did not blink. “Because if I am going to doubt you, I want to do it after you win, not before.”
I took the dagger. It fit my hand like an old truth. “Keep your eyes open,” I said. “If I fail, say it loud. If I do not, say that louder.”
He gave a short nod and stood aside.
In the corridor, the hall woke up like a chest taking a breath. Wolves in leather. Bare arms. The scrape of shields. The smell of oil and soup from a pot someone had set to keep hands steady. The small bowl flame I had lit threw a thin line of light across the stone. Wolves touched it with two fingers and moved on. Nothing holy. Enough.
Thorne matched my stride. “The mill first,” he said.
“The mill,” I said. “Then the border. Then the parley table, if it still exists.”
“And if it does,” he asked.
“I flip it,” I said.
A shadow fell across us. Vessa jogged up, braid tight, eyes bright. “Scouts are out. No horns. Quiet road.”
“Good,” I said. “We keep it that way.”
Eden called from behind. “Do not bleed through your wrap.”
“I will bleed later,” I said.
He sighed. “You said that already.”
“I mean it more now,” I said.
We reached the outer door. The night lay cool, with a thin moon and a thinner second ghosting it. The air tasted clean after too much smoke. I put my hand on the wood. I did not look back. I did not need to. The room behind me held a brother who believed and a record that could not be burned. That was enough for one step.
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A runner slid in from the yard, almost colliding with Mira. “Message from the orchard road,” he panted. “Two riders with a white scarf. Not rogues. Exiled colors tucked under. They want to speak.”
“At night,” Thorne said. “Of course.”
“They say they carry names,” the runner added. “Of Alphas who plan to break at dusk.”
I looked at the open dark. My pulse went steady. “Then bring them to the ring.”
“And if they refuse,” he asked.
“Tell them Alpha Elara does not hunt whispers,” I said. “She calls them.”
He ran. The yard swallowed him. I looked at my wolves. They looked back. No one dropped their gaze. Good.
“Ready,” Thorne said.
“Ready,” I said. “Move.”
