Chapter 108. The Bridge Code

We read the law in the Hall of Phases because halls remember. There were no thrones today—just benches and standing room, stone and bodies and breath. Syra had guards at the doors in case agreement needed teeth. Orla chalked the arch with a single broad curve—no sigils. Sometimes a line is enough.

“Three tenets,” I said, voice carrying because the Moon makes rooms that listen. “Four, by the end of the night.”

We spoke them one by one. Consent. Bleeding law. The Bridge before war. Children protected. My brand warmed but didn’t flare; only one lie brushed the air, and I caught it before the heat found me.

An elder rose—old Shadowfang iron with a beard that had outlived five winters—and leaned on a cane like he was leaning on his own legend.

“This is heresy,” he said plainly. “A Luna making law.”

“No,” I said just as plain. “A Luna and an Alpha wearing one crown with two hands. The making is the point.”

“You unmade the song,” he rasped. “You think th