Chapter 41. Bloodlines in Ash

The mist hadn't yet lifted from the Moon Hollow grounds when Selene and Alaric emerged from the treeline, their steps slow but unbroken. The shrine's memory still burned behind Selene's eyes, the mark on her collarbone alive under her skin. Every breath she took carried the weight of her choice—the bond sealed in silver fire, the old gods watching.

And the Council waiting.

Three emissaries stood at the edge of the sacred stones, their ceremonial robes stark against the gray dawn. Their faces were masked—white porcelain etched with sigils of authority. Wolves bristled in their shadows, low-ranking guards, but their stances were taut with barely leashed violence.

Beyond the emissaries, a semicircle of onlookers gathered—wolves from neighboring territories, drawn by the scent of upheaval. Some stood rigid with fear. Others leaned forward, hungry for the first crack in the Council's iron rule.