Chapter 284
Elara’s POV
“Who chained the statue.”
1:
餃餃
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Eden jogged beside me, breath tight. “Happened before dawn. No one saw. Iron links. A painted crown.”
We broke into Thornhaven Square at a run. The new monument stood in morning light, plain and strong, now ringed by iron. Someone had looped a heavy chain around the stone waist and padlocked it. Red paint dripped a crude crown across the face. The crowd pressed close, murmuring. Some laughed. Some looked ready to fight.
Cael reached the base from the other side with Mira and Vessa at his shoulders. He looked up, jaw set. “Flashpoint.”
“Good,” I said. “Now we know where to put the work.”
Vessa scanned the roofs. “No archers. No lookouts. Whoever did it wants noise, not blood.”
Mira thumped her shield once. The ring stepped back. “Give space,” she called. “If you crowd, you fix.”
Elder Briar appeared with a ledger and a frown. “The summit waits in the hall.”
“Then they start here,” I said. I raised my voice. “Bring the Alphas to the square.”
Eden sprinted. The iron links shivered as the wind pulled. I touched the chain. Cold. Stupid. Loud.
The first delegations came in fast. Fenreach, Ridge, Obsidian Howl, Direstone, more behind them. Some in clean coats. Some in travel dust. All eyes on the red crown and the lock.
Alaric from Fenreach spoke first. “You want peace, you pull the statue down.”
Lord Roy from Ridge snorted. “You want peace, you put a real crown on it.”
Bex hissed. “You want peace, shut up and bring a bucket.”
Cael’s eyes found mine. He did not nod. He did not need to.
I stepped onto the base and faced them. “We meet under two moons. One law. We will not hide our arguments indoors while our people stare at a chained promise.”
The square went quiet. Drums from the training yard slowed, then stopped. Even the flag seemed to listen.
I pointed at the chain. “The old law loved this. It made a chain and called it order. We do not.”
A gray Alpha from Obsidian Howl lifted a palm. “Who decides that.”
“The summit does,” I said. “Today. Simple vote. But before we vote, we set a rule that keeps this from happening every time a loud man grabs paint.”
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Vessa crossed her arms. “Say the rule.”
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“We keep a rotating female–led seat in every council across every pack,” I said. “Not a favor. A chair with a voice and a veto for harm.”
You could hear the breath leave the men at the edges. Some scoffed. Some looked at their sisters. Some went still as if someone had called their bluff.
Alaric frowned. “Rotating how.”
“Every season,” I said. “Four moons. The seat moves to a woman who works in public and carries trust in private. The packs choose from within. The Court confirms. No bloodlines. No handpicks from men who want rubber stamps.”
Lord Roy laughed low. “You would break a thousand years of habit with one morning stunt.”
“Your habits made the chain,” I said. “Take it up with your mirror.”
A young Alpha from Cragfen Ridge raised his voice. “Give us time. We need to talk it through.”
“Talk all you want,” Mira said. “With your feet moving.” She handed him a bolt cutter. “Cut the chain while you think.”
He took the cutters, startled, and climbed the base. The crowd watched his hands. He set the jaws to a link and squeezed. The metal groaned. It held. He grit his teeth and put his weight behind it. The link snapped. The chain slumped a little.
Elder Thalia from Obsidian Howl stepped forward, back straight. “My pack will vote yes. We already have a woman running stores better than any Alpha we have ever named.”
Serena called from the rim, arms full of scroll cases. “And I have a list of girls who are tired of filling bowls and never being asked to count them.”
Alaric rubbed his beard. “If we vote yes, men will yell. If we vote no, women will leave.”
Cael spoke, even and sure. “If you vote no, Elara will not carry your lines when you fall behind. Choose with that in your mouth.”
A low hum moved the square. The young Alpha snapped another link. Sweat ran down his temple. He did not ask for help. Good.
Roy lifted his chin. “You waste a summit on seats and statues when war cut us open.”
“War cut us open,” I said. “Now we stop sewing the wound shut with the same dirty thread.”
From the far side, Nora raised two fingers. “There is red paint under the lock. Whoever did this had the key.”
Eden nodded. “Then either a guard failed, or a delegate helped.” His eyes skimmed the faces like he was counting guilt.
I turned to the crowd. “I will not chase a ghost while you all posture. We vote. We set law. Then we cut the
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rest
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Elder Briar lifted his ledger. “Summit roll call.”
He moved fast. Names. Hands. A chorus of yes, no, and abstain. The circle shifted with each call. Women watched men. Men watched the ground. The young Alpha broke another link. The chain sagged farther.
When Briar reached the end, he frowned, counted again, then looked up at me. “Seventeen for. Three against. One abstain.”
The square let out a breath it had been holding for years.
I lifted my voice. “By summit vote, every council keeps a rotating female–led seat with full voice. Four–moon terms. Court confirms. Any pack that blocks its seat loses trade priority and patrol support until it complies.”
Roy’s mouth twisted. “You make law like a hammer.”
“I make law like a door,” I said. “It swings both ways. Walk through or stand outside.”
The young Alpha cut the last link. The chain slid down the stone and pooled at my boots. He climbed off and set the cutters on the base, chest heaving. People clapped once, then thought better and turned the sound into
work talk.
Vessa nudged the chain with her toe. “Leave it here?”
“No,” I said. “Melt it. Make hinges. We are done looking at it.”
The crowd liked that. Voices rose in agreement. Sweat and pride smell alike.
Eden leaned close. “Do we clean the paint or keep it as a reminder.”
“Keep a little,” I said. “Under the ear. Where the light hits late.”
He smiled. “Petty and perfect.”
A runner pushed through the edge. “Alpha. Message from the Direstone envoy. They will walk out if you enforce the rotating seat at home.”
“Then they will walk out,” I said. “And they will walk back when the winter count is due.”
“Do you want me to say it like that,” the runner asked, nervous.
“Yes,” I said. “No clever turns. Just truth.”
He swallowed and ran.
Cael touched my shoulder. “We still need a chair rule.”
“Simple,” I said. “No stone seats. Every chair in every council must move. Wheels, if I have to order them.”
Mira barked a laugh. “Now you are just picking fights.”
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“Only the ones worth winning,” I said.
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Elder Thalia stepped up with a folded cloth. She handed it to me without a word. Inside lay a thin ring of iron, broken clean and welded again with a small seam. “From our winter sheds,” she said. “A woman named Elowen broke it the night she walked girls out. She asked me to carry it to you if the men tried to forget.”
I closed my fingers around the warm metal. “Tell her she has a seat if she wants it,” I said. “Rotating, like the rest.”
Thalia nodded, eyes wet and hard at the same time. “She will take a season.”
Elder Briar lifted his pen. “Write it.”
He did, scratching neat lines that would outlive our tempers.
Garron cleared his throat near the wall. “What about men who do not want the seat to work. You going to
throw them out.”
“No,” I said. “I am going to make them work beside it until they do not know the difference.”
He snorted. “Hurt less than I thought it would.”
“Give it an hour,” Vessa said. “Your pride aches slow.”
The crowd cracked into laughter and then into motion. Buckets. Rags. Ladders. People moved like they owned the square, because they did. The red flaked off the stone face in thin curls. A little stain stayed under the ear. The light caught it, late and sharp.
Alaric came to me while we worked. He watched women climb the ladder and scrub. “I will sell this at home by saying it saves me time,” he said. “Men listen when you promise them less meetings.”
“Say whatever gets you to right,” I said.
He grunted, almost a laugh. “You will like Elowen,” he added. “She makes bad coffee and worse jokes.”
“I like work,” I said.
The young Alpha returned the cutters to Mira. “I will send a smith for the chain,” he said. “Hinges by dusk.”
“Good,” Mira said. “Bring your back too. Doors are heavy.”
He nodded, flushed and proud.
Eden tapped his list. “One more vote item. Summit charter says we pick a symbol for the seat, so packs cannot play paper games. Suggestions.”
Serena raised a small chalk stick. “Not a crown. A knot.”
Leira lifted her looped cord. “Two curves crossing low.”
“Done,” I said. “The seat wears a knot mark on the table. Any council without the knot does not count its vote.”
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Briar wrote it fast. “Knot mark required,” he said. “I like that.”
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Cael studied the square with a small smile. “We just made three years of change before breakfast.”
“Then eat,” Fenna called, shoving a basket into his hands. “Soup, salad, meat if you ask nice. Do not pass out while you make history.”
He did not argue. He never wins with Fenna.
I sat on the base and let the morning lean into my shoulders. The chain was gone. The paint was mostly gone. The red under the car stayed, small and stubborn. It looked like a warning and a dare. Good.
Alphas drifted in twos and threes toward the hall, still talking. Women held lists. Men carried buckets. Kids stared and pointed and then pretended they were not staring. The flag moved like breath.
Eden anchored beside me. “Think they will keep the seat when you are old.”
“They will keep it because it makes their lives easier,” I said. “That is how good law lives long.”
Vessa wiped a last smear from the cheek of the stone and squinted at her work. “You want the nose sharper,” she asked.
“No,” I said. “Let it be plain.”
Mira tapped the empty lock lying by the base. “Souvenir.”
“Melt it too,” I said. “Hinges need pairs.”
Cael finished his soup and pushed the bowl into Jory’s hands. “We go to the hall,” he said. “Charter the knot. Assign first seats. Name the fines for packs that drag their feet.”
“Make the fines boring,” I said. “Boring sticks.”
He smiled. “As you wish.”
Eden glanced at the monument. “You going to speak one line before we leave.”
I stood and put my palm on the stone, right where the stain hid in the light. The surface was warm from hands and work. The chain mark had left a faint kiss on my skin that would wash away. The stain would not.
I raised my voice. “Listen close. This square is not for worship. It is for memory. If you want to honor this stone, build a better meeting, not a bigger story.”
A quiet yes moved through the people close enough to hear. That was enough.
Cael turned toward the hall and waited for me to move. I stared at the knot we had carved into the table in my mind and the empty seat that would travel from hand to hand. It felt right. It felt like work.
“Ready,” he asked.
“Yes,” I said. “But one more thing first.”
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He paused. “What.”
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I looked at the red stain under the car and then at the line of Alphas getting ready to argue about chairs and knots and fines. “Bring me the melted chain by dusk,” I said. “I want the first hinge on the Court door to swing by my hand.”
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