The great hall of the Midnight Howl Pack was steeped in shadows, the flickering candlelight casting eerie shapes across the stone walls. The council gathered around a massive oak table, their faces dark with concern and quiet determination. Tension crackled in the air like the scent of impending rain, each elder acutely aware that they were on the precipice of a dangerous conflict.
Alaric's council had always been a bastion of tradition, filled with wolves whose wisdom came from decades of experience. Now, faced with Damien Blackthorn's chilling reign, they felt the ground shifting beneath them, their very foundation trembling.
"Damien's ruthlessness is unlike anything we've seen," Elder Thorne said, his voice a gravelly whisper that echoed off the stone walls. "He rules by fear, not respect. And fear begets rebellion."
Elder Mira, a woman of sharp features and keen eyes, nodded gravely. "He has extinguished the flickers of hope in our pack. Wolves no longer come to us for guidance; they fear the very Alpha meant to protect them. It is only a matter of time before this leads to chaos."
"The boy is haunted by his father's legacy," Elder Aric mused, running a hand through his silver-streaked hair. "Alaric thrived on brutality, and it seems Damien has fully embraced that dark path. We must intervene before it becomes irreversible."
A murmur of agreement spread across the table, but it was Elder Thorne who spoke again, his tone sharpened with urgency.
"What can we do?" He leaned forward, his gaze piercing. "Stripping him of his title would create instability. The pack is not ready for a challenge to his rule, not yet."
"Then we must find a way to temper his heart," Elder Mira suggested, her voice stronger now, igniting a flicker of hope in the chamber. "Perhaps we can remind him of the bonds that once held this pack together—the bonds of loyalty, community, and, yes, love. We must reach the boy before he pushes everyone away completely."
"But how?" Aric's voice was laced with skepticism. "He is consumed by rage. He views love as a weakness—an inevitability he wishes to reject. Much like his father did before him."
Elder Mira interlaced her fingers, her sharp gaze shifting from one elder to another.
"Freya."
The mention of her name echoed in the hall, a jolt of recognition slamming into each council member.
Elder Thorne's voice deepened with frustration. "Even if this girl exists, how do we even know her name? Where did this 'Freya' come from?"
Mira hesitated. Her lips thinned into a grim line.
"She was named by one of the seers," she said finally. "The last one Damien… questioned."
A hush fell over the chamber like a death knell.
Aric's eyes narrowed. "Questioned?" he echoed, though it wasn't a question. "You mean tortured."
Mira gave a slow nod, her expression tight with restrained fury.
"He dragged her from the temples of the Crescent Isle. Broke her bones for speaking in riddles. She's still held hostage down in the dungeon. The only reason Damien is still keeping her alive is because… she whispered a name."
She looked each council member in the eye.
"Freya."
Elric, the eldest, closed his eyes with a pained breath. "And so the prophecy reveals itself in blood."
Thorne's fists clenched on the table. "Then he knows who she is."
"No," Mira said. "He dismissed the name. Claimed it was the last breath of a dying madwoman. He refused to believe the Moon Goddess would curse him with a fragile girl from the Outer Packs."
"Fragile," Aric muttered bitterly. "A convenient lie. He's afraid of her. He just doesn't know it yet."
"She's his undoing," Mira said softly. "Or his rebirth. And he's doing everything he can to run from that choice."
Thorne scoffed. "Do we even know where this girl might have gone? The name alone is nothing. 'Freya' could be anyone."
"No," Mira answered. "The seer said more. She called her 'the girl of the silver flame, the one whose pain will echo louder than the Alpha's roar.' She said the bond was broken before it ever took shape—and that it nearly killed her."
"She's hiding," Aric said. "Or healing. Either way, she's not going to walk back into the fire willingly."
"Then we bring her home," Mira insisted. "We summon the Huntress. We give an offering and beg the moonlight to guide us."
Thorne turned away, growling under his breath. "You think Damien will allow any of this if he finds out?"
"We're not asking his permission," Mira snapped. "We're trying to save him—from the blood that runs in his veins."
Another voice broke the silence. Elric again, eyes open this time and gleaming with quiet steel.
"The girl is real. The bond is real. And the Goddess does not show mercy twice. Find her. Before she disappears forever. Or before Damien kills what little of her still breathes."
And just then—
A low growl echoed through the chamber. The shadows along the stone wall twisted, darkening like a storm. The ancient doors creaked open.
And Damien Blackthorn stepped through them, his presence cold as frostbite, his gray eyes smoldering with something unreadable.
"Now, now," he drawled, voice as quiet as it was terrifying. "What would my noble council want with a girl... I already buried?"
Mira's heart skipped a beat.
Because he wasn't talking about death.
He was talking about the bond.
"Funny how my stupid council thinks their Alpha needs a mere wolf," Damien said, smirking with cruel amusement, "because the Moon Goddess says so."
His eyes locked onto Council Mira, who quickly shifted her glare elsewhere, resisting the instinct to flinch.