By sunset, the entire pack had gathered.
No one had been ordered to attend.
They came anyway.
The trial circle was lit by torches driven deep into the earth. Shadows danced across stone and fur, across faces tense with uncertainty. Mooncrest had not held a formal Alpha-family trial in three generations.
And never against blood.
Lucian stood bound in ironwood restraints at the center of the clearing. Even restrained, he carried himself like a strategist observing a board.
Not a criminal awaiting judgment.
Draven stood before him in full Alpha regalia—black leather, ceremonial blade at his hip.
I stood beside him.
Not behind.
The difference was not subtle.
The High Elder raised her staff.
"Beta Lucian Blackthorn stands accused of ritual interference, treason against pack law, and manipulation of sacred mate bond rites."
Murmurs rippled through the wolves.
Lucian's gaze slid to me.
"You speak of treason," he said calmly, "yet you place your future in the hands of a myth."
"I place it in the hands of truth," Draven replied coldly.
The Elder turned to me. "Aria Vale, present your evidence."
I stepped forward.
The moon had risen fully now.
Silver answered immediately.
I knelt—not in submission—but in invocation. Pressing my palm to the earth, I summoned the memory of the altered rune.
Light spilled across the trial circle.
A perfect projection of the ritual marking shimmered above the ground—first as it should have been.
Then as it was altered.
Gasps echoed.
The distortion glowed dark red within the silver outline.
Lucian's jaw tightened, but he did not deny it.
"You inverted the resonance seal," I said steadily. "You weakened my wolf signature during the ceremony. The Alpha felt instability where there was strength."
Draven's voice was quieter now—but far more dangerous.
"You made me reject my own mate."
Lucian finally looked at him—not as Alpha.
As nephew.
"You were not ready for a Luna who would rival you," he said evenly. "I spared you imbalance."
The insult hung in the air.
Draven did not rise to it.
"I was not afraid of her strength," he said. "I was blinded by yours."
Silence.
The admission struck deeper than any shout.
Lucian's composure cracked slightly.
"You would condemn your own blood for this?" he asked.
"For betrayal?" Draven corrected. "Yes."
The Elder turned toward the council. "Does the accused deny altering the ritual?"
Lucian lifted his chin.
"I altered it," he said plainly. "And I would do so again."
Shock rippled across the clearing.
"Why?" a council member demanded.
Lucian's gaze fixed on me.
"Because the Silver Moonline disrupts hierarchy. Because history shows that when Lunas draw power from the moon itself, they do not bow."
My wolf stirred, not offended.
Aware.
Draven stepped closer to his uncle.
"You feared losing control."
"I feared losing structure," Lucian snapped. "Packs survive on order!"
"And you mistook control for order," I said quietly.
The silver flared faintly around me—not aggressive.
Steady.
A reminder that power did not have to roar to be real.
The Elder raised her staff again.
"By admission and witnessed proof, Beta Lucian is found guilty of ritual sabotage and treasonous manipulation of Alpha authority."
The clearing held its breath.
"Punishment?" she asked, turning to Draven.
Traditionally, such crimes ended in execution.
Draven's expression was carved from stone.
Then he looked at me.
Not for permission.
For alignment.
I stepped forward.
"Execution would make him a martyr," I said calmly. "Exile strips him of influence."
Lucian's eyes flickered—first hint of true reaction.
"You would spare me?" he asked.
"I would remove you," I corrected.
Draven nodded once.
"Beta Lucian Blackthorn," he declared, voice carrying across the territory, "you are stripped of rank and blood claim. By pack law, you are exiled beyond Mooncrest borders. If you return, you die."
The words landed like a gavel.
Final.
Guards stepped forward.
For the first time, Lucian's composure faltered.
"You think this ends here?" he said quietly as restraints were loosened just enough to escort him. "Others know what she is."
My pulse cooled rather than quickened.
"Let them," I replied.
He searched my face for fear.
Found none.
As he was led away, the pack remained silent.
Watching.
Weighing.
When the gates closed behind him at the edge of territory, something shifted.
Not just politically.
Energetically.
The land itself seemed to exhale.
The Elder turned to face the gathered wolves.
"Mooncrest stands under new balance," she proclaimed. "Alpha and Luna rule in equal authority."
This time—
The wolves bowed.
Not hesitantly.
Not fully.
But enough.
Draven turned toward me once the crowd began dispersing.
"You showed mercy," he said quietly.
"I showed strategy."
A faint curve touched his mouth.
"Remind me never to stand against you."
"You already did," I replied softly.
The weight of that truth lingered between us.
For a moment, the tension shifted—less hostility.
More awareness.
The mate bond pulsed stronger now.
Not forced.
Not suppressed.
Waiting.
Draven stepped closer—close enough that the air warmed between us.
"I owe you more than words," he said.
"Yes," I agreed.
He didn't look away.
And for the first time—
He didn't try to claim.
He waited.
Above us, the moon shone brighter than before.
And somewhere beyond Mooncrest territory—
An exiled wolf disappeared into the dark.
Not defeated.
Just displaced.
And his final warning echoed faintly in my mind.
Others know what she is.
Which meant—
The true threat had not yet shown itself.