The ritual site still smelled like ash.
Even after a year.
I stood in the center of the ceremonial clearing at dawn, boots pressed into the exact place where I had knelt.
The earth remembered.
So did I.
Draven stood a few paces behind me, silent but present. The High Elder and two council members formed a loose circle around us. Beta Lucian lingered near the edge, composed as ever.
"Begin," the Elder instructed.
I closed my eyes.
The silver answered instantly.
It moved through me like breath—cool, deliberate, ancient. When I pressed my palm to the soil, a faint shimmer spread outward, tracing the faded remnants of the original ritual circle.
Gasps rose softly.
Lines appeared.
Not visible to ordinary sight—but under silver light, the truth surfaced.
There.
A break in the pattern.
A distortion.
"This rune," I said quietly, pointing to a warped symbol near the eastern edge. "It was altered."
The Elder stepped closer, frowning. "That mark seals the strength of the mate bond."
"It also measures wolf resonance," I replied.
Draven moved beside me. "Explain."
I swallowed once, steadying my voice.
"If someone weakened my resonance signature during the ritual, the bond would have felt unstable. Wrong. As if I were… lesser."
The word tasted bitter.
Draven's jaw tightened.
Lucian spoke smoothly from behind us. "Are we to believe a year-old scratch in dirt overturns the Alpha's judgment?"
The silver flared hotter at his tone.
"It's not dirt," I said evenly. "It's ritual ash bound with blood and intent. It preserves magic."
The Elder crouched, running her fingers lightly over the distorted rune. Her brows drew together.
"This was not natural erosion."
Silence fell.
Draven's voice cut through it.
"Who had access to the ritual circle before the ceremony?"
The Elder hesitated.
Lucian did not.
"Only the council and myself," he said calmly. "As acting ritual overseer."
My pulse slowed instead of racing.
There it is.
I rose to my feet and faced him fully.
"You adjusted the rune," I said.
A bold accusation.
The council shifted uneasily.
Lucian's expression remained composed. "Careful, Aria. Power does not excuse recklessness."
"Intent does," I replied.
The silver responded to my certainty, rising in faint tendrils around my wrists.
Draven's voice dropped lower—dangerous.
"Answer the question."
Lucian met his nephew's gaze evenly. "I ensured the ritual followed tradition."
"You ensured it weakened me," I countered.
"And why," he asked softly, "would I do that?"
Because you were afraid.
But I did not say it.
Instead, I stepped forward until only a few feet separated us.
"You've always believed Mooncrest should remain under bloodline purity," I said. "You warned Draven that my lineage was thin."
Lucian's eyes flickered briefly.
A tell.
"Your lineage was unverified," he corrected.
"Because it was erased," I said quietly. "The Silver Moonline was nearly wiped out generations ago. Records destroyed."
The Elder inhaled sharply.
"You knew," she whispered.
Lucian's composure finally cracked—just slightly.
"Even if such a line existed," he said carefully, "ancient Lunas disrupted pack hierarchy. They ruled beside Alphas. Some ruled alone."
There it is.
Fear of equality.
Draven stepped forward now, placing himself between us—not shielding Lucian.
Shielding me.
"You sabotaged the ritual," he said, voice like ice. "You manipulated my judgment."
Lucian's gaze hardened.
"I protected this pack."
"By humiliating its Luna?" I asked.
"By preventing imbalance," he snapped.
The clearing went utterly still.
The admission hung heavy in the air.
Draven's wolf surged beneath his skin, barely contained.
"You interfered with sacred law," he said.
Lucian straightened. "For the survival of Mooncrest."
"No," I said softly. "For control."
The silver pulsed outward, stronger this time.
Not chaotic.
Commanding.
The altered rune ignited briefly under my power—revealing darker ink beneath it.
Proof.
The Elder rose slowly. "The mark was deliberately inverted."
Draven turned fully toward his uncle.
"You will stand trial before sunset."
Lucian's eyes flicked between us.
For the first time—
He looked cornered.
"You think this ends with me?" he said quietly. "You've awakened something you don't understand."
A chill slid down my spine.
"What do you mean?" Draven demanded.
Lucian's gaze locked onto mine.
"The Silver Moonline was hunted for a reason."
Before anyone could react—
He shifted.
Explosively.
Chaos erupted.
Wolves snarled. Council members shouted.
Lucian lunged—not at Draven—
At me.
But I was no longer the girl who knelt.
Silver surged through me instinctively.
I didn't shift.
I commanded.
The air itself seemed to bend as power slammed into him mid-leap, throwing his wolf sideways into the dirt with crushing force.
The entire clearing froze.
Even Draven stared.
Lucian struggled against invisible weight, eyes wide with disbelief.
"You don't control me," I said calmly, voice layered with ancient resonance. "Not anymore."
Guards rushed forward, pinning him.
Draven stood at my side again—this time not uncertain.
Not conflicted.
Aligned.
Lucian bared his teeth despite restraint.
"This is only the beginning," he hissed. "Others know what she is."
The warning echoed in the clearing long after he was dragged away.
Silence fell slowly.
The Elder looked at me differently now.
Not with doubt.
With reverence.
Draven turned toward me.
"You could have killed him," he said quietly.
"Yes."
"But you didn't."
"I won't rule through fear."
His gaze softened—deeply this time.
"You already don't."
For the first time since my return—
The pack wasn't watching a scandal.
They were witnessing power.
And the silver within me whispered something new.
Not warning.
Not anger.
Destiny.