[Kaelen's POV]
A tremor of pure animal fear went through Giselle. Ethan Northwind's eyes were not just dark; they were voids, twin abysses that promised to swallow her whole.
Every Pack noble in the hall took an involuntary step back, a primal instinct to get away from the suffocating weight of the violence coiling around the heir of the North.
Ethan was a prince of our world. The idea of him being an interloper was a joke.
I was about to speak, to try and diffuse the dangerously thick atmosphere. I had never expected my sister to drag him into this. Right now, making an enemy of the "Little Tyrant of the North" was a mistake I couldn't afford. His influence was a web that stretched across the entire continent, far beyond what I could challenge.
"Lord Ethan, my sister was just—"
My words died in my throat as another voice, filled with a deep, resonating authority, cut through the hall. "Who dares throw filth on the granddaughter of my fallen friend?"
Liana's head snapped around. Great Elder Elias of the Elder Council was walking into the assembly, his presence commanding immediate silence.
And more shocking still, the Lycan King, Malachi, walked beside him.
Liana rushed to his side. "Elder Elias, what are you doing here?"
"You foolish child," the Great Elder said, his voice a gentle rebuke as he looked at Elara, but his eyes were filled with a profound, aching pain. "To dissolve your bond is a momentous thing. Why did you not tell me?" He had clearly overheard the accusations. The thought of anyone slinging mud at Elara cut him deeply.
If her parents were still alive to see their daughter so wronged, their hearts would break.
"Your parents are gone. I am your elder now. For something as important as this, I had to be here," the Elder said.
Elara's eyes instantly filled with tears. He had been a dear friend to her parents, had watched her grow up. It was from his hands that she had received her parents' cold, lifeless Spirit Stones. He was more than an elder; he was family.
"And who are you?" I demanded, frowning. "I've never heard Elara speak of any elder." He wasn't wearing his ceremonial robes, just the simple attire of a common wolf.
"You are Elara's mate?" the Great Elder asked, his gaze sharp as a blade. The sheer weight of his station pressed down on me.
Before I could answer, my mother jumped in. "Not for long! My son has no need for a faithless she-wolf like her!"
"It is your son who is unworthy of Elara!" the Elder's voice thundered. "A male who would not even accompany his mate to receive her parents' Spirit Stones has no right to call himself her mate!"
"Pah! Spirit Stones!" my mother spat, her face twisted with disgust. "Why would my son retrieve such unlucky, death-tainted things? The day she brought that box back, she wanted to keep it in the house. I had to slap some sense into her! If she had dared to bring that filth into our home, I would have smashed it myself! She wanted to curse the Blackwood Pack with her bad omens. A vicious creature!"
The Great Elder was trembling with rage. He finally understood the depths of the disrespect his friend's daughter had endured.
Ethan and Liana were livid, Liana's eyes shining with unshed tears. She finally saw it all. How could I have allowed this?
My mother was still puffing herself up, riding the high of her own viciousness, when a voice cut through the hall—a voice as cold and final as the grave.
"Hit her."
A vicious crack echoed through the hall. A brutal slap landed squarely on my mother's face, silencing her mid-tirade.
Everyone froze. The blow had come from one of Malachi's guards, but the order had come from the Lycan King himself.
My mother stood stunned for a moment before she erupted. "Elara! You conspire with outsiders against me! Your parents died early because they birthed a monster like you!"
"Continue," Malachi whispered, a dangerous, feral red light flickering in the depths of his violet eyes.
The guard raised his hand again. Slap. Slap.
My mother's cheek was already swelling, turning a deep, ugly red. No one dared to move. It was Malachi. The Mad King.
I lunged forward, but his guards blocked my path, their bodies like stone walls. I didn't have the courage to shout at the Lycan King, so I turned my fury on Elara. "Elara! Make them stop! Is this what you wanted?"
She stood silent, her lips pressed into a thin, hard line. If my mother had only insulted her, she could have borne it. But she had insulted her parents. Martyrs. That was a line that could never be uncrossed.
The sickening sound of the slaps continued.
"If my mother is harmed, Elara, is that a weight you are prepared to carry?" I roared.
"I will carry it," Malachi said, his voice a calm, chilling whisper. "If she is injured, if she is maimed, the Lycan royal house will cover all medical expenses and compensation."
His words fell into a dead, absolute silence. My mother, hearing them, began to tremble with a new, profound terror, her eyes pleading with me.
"Elara, must you take it this far? You want the Origin Crystals? Fine! I'll give them to you! Just make them stop!" I yelled, my voice cracking with desperation.
The slapping paused.
Malachi was watching Elara, waiting for her decision. If she gave the word, the punishment would continue.
She looked at me, her eyes as cold as the northern wastes. "I do want the Origin Crystals. But the one hundred and fifty-three… you are not giving them to me. You are returning them."
"When you needed capital to secure your position as Alpha, when you had nothing, I gave you those one hundred and fifty-three Origin Crystals to quell the unrest in your Pack."
"Kaelen, I am ending this bond, and I have asked for nothing, only for you to return what was mine. I am doing this because I cannot bear another moment of this farce. I cannot bear another moment of being disgusted by you and your family."
Her words landed like hammer blows. The crowd's gaze shifted, their judgment palpable. I had built my reputation on being a self-made Alpha. No one knew my foundation had been built with my own mate's money.
And now I was trying to cheat her out of it.
"You can say whatever you want! I could say my mother gave my brother that money!" Giselle shot back.
Liana rounded on her. "If the House of Blackwood had that kind of money back then, Kaelen wouldn't have been so poor that the ritual rings he gave Elara were worth two miserable Moon-crystals from a market stall!"
"Then where would a lone wolf from a fallen clan get that kind of money?" Giselle retorted, her voice shrill.
"It was her parents' death benefit," Liana's voice was a thunderclap in the silent hall.
The world stopped.
My mind, a storm of rage and humiliation, went completely, utterly blank. I stared at Elara, my heart seizing in my chest.
That money… the capital that had saved my Pack… was blood money from her parents' death? The thought was a physical blow. Impossible.