The Shattered Princess

When Ayla first opened her eyes, there was only silence. The room was dark but her vision adjusted immediately.

There was a stillness. No sound other than her own heart beat and shallow breathing. No movement other than the twitching of her waking limbs.

She knew she had returned from a very dark place. So empty and cold. A place she didn't belong to, but had wished to remain in. But they forced her back.

Sisters. They had told her. Her work was not done. It had only just begun.

Ayla sat up. The heaviness of the sheets covering her body slipped away as she climbed out the bed. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and tried to stand. But the moment her feet touched the floor, her knees buckled, and the sound of skin hitting marble floor echoed in the room. She winced but steadied herself against the bed, her fingers gripping the edge tightly.

She hadn't used her legs for so long, that her muscles were not used to being awake.

Ayla tried again. One foot out. Another weak step forward. She managed to exist the hospital room. The floor she was on was dead quiet. The lights were dimmed to the glowing luminescence of a candle. She steadied herself against the wall and walked along side it, following the heat to where her people were.

The hospital wing of Selas Manor stretched before her. The air was heavy, the halls eerily empty. There was no one within close vicinity. No doctors nor nurses nearby. No patients or visiting family members. The wing was deserted. She was alone.

"Hello?" Her voice rasped, dry and cracked.

A violent cough rattled her chest but Ayla had failed to notice the cottonmouth that was taking away all forms of lubrication in her throat. Ayla licked her lips but found no relief. She needed comfort. Warmth. She wanted nothing more than to be in her mother's arms. To hear her father's voice.

But as she approached the communal area of the Manor, she heard voices. She followed the sound, wondering why so many heartbeats were in one area. Were they having a gathering? Without her? How long had she been out for?

The closer she got, the louder the voices grew, urgent and tense.

"But sir, if what he's saying is true-"

"It is. All evidence points to that. It's right here."

"That would mean immediate termination."

"No!" Ayla's mother cried, her voice breaking with desperation. "On whose order?"

"The Tribunal, Lady Anna."

Ayla crept closer, unnoticed. Through the slightly ajar doors of the meeting hall, she caught sight of the court. The vast room was filled-every member of the council and hundreds of wolves.

She saw her father sitting near the end of the long table, his posture tense, his face strained. Besides her, her mother had a look of anguish in her eyes, but her face betrayed no strain. She saw her uncles and their wives, as well as the elders who made up the council, glare at her parents in reproach.

Lastly, she saw the Alpha King and Luna Queen, her grandparents, who held rigid and cold expressions as they watched their sons argue.

It wasn't just the council; it was the entire manor. She could hear each one of their heartbeats loud and fast... something she could never do before.

How had she not noticed this? They were all so unique, but there was a gentle rhythm to them. United. One body, many souls. It was beautiful. And yet so strange that her human ears were capable of such abilities.

"You've seen what her kind can do," a voice said, harsh and unyielding. "How they destroy worlds."

"She is not one of them." Sol's voice, though firm, carried a note of vulnerability. It was rare for him to speak up. As the runt of his family, his words were often dismissed, drowned out by his four older brothers.

But this time, he continued. "She never has been, and she never will be. She is not a threat."

A harsh laugh echoed through the hall. "Not a threat?" Her uncle said. "She took out a platoon, you are unintelligent brother."

"Lord Sol, we must agree with Lord Tau," another voice added. "We all felt it. That power. You cannot deny what she is."

"Lord, we went to the station, we saw what she could do. How could we even explain to the humans what that was."

"Little brother," Wane, another brother, interjected, cold and disdainful. "Are you hiding a child of Lycaon? Did you truly think the council would not discover this?"

The words stung, and Ayla saw her father lower his head slightly, as if to shield himself from the pack's collective gaze. She saw her mother grip has hand under the table, before he raised his head.

"Great Alpha King," Sol said, turning to his father. "Please, she's my only daughter. My child. She is no threat. She has no wolf, so how can she be a threat."

The Alpha King's expression remained unreadable, but the weight of his judgment hung over the room.

Ayla's hands trembled as she clutched the doorframe. It pained her to hear the desperation in her father's voice, knowing the entire pack was enjoying his humiliation. But she also didn't understand. What was wrong with her? What had she done that warranted such hatred and fear?

"Great Alpha King," another voice countered. "If the tribunal decide to terminate her, we cannot fight. It will be war."

"She's our child. The only princess of this pack," her mother pleaded. "Would you sacrifice her? Again?"

"She is not the only princess, Danna," Tau sneered. "You know this."

A thick, suffocating silence followed. Another princess? Confusion twisted in Ayla's chest, mingling with the sharp ache of betrayal.

She couldn't take it anymore. Pushing the doors open, she stepped into the hall. The creak echoed, cutting through the silence like a blade.

The entire room turned to her. Hundreds of eyes locked on her frail form, but Ayla's focus was on her mother, who stood abruptly.

"Ayla," her mother gasped, rising from her seat. "You're awake."

Danna rushed to her daughter, wrapping her arms tightly around her. Ayla could feel the suppressed sobs in her mother's chest as she held back her tears. She refused to cry in front of the council. Ayla being alive was a sign of victory.

"Look, Sol!" Her mother called, her voice shaking with relief. "She survived the ascension!"

The council erupted into murmurs, but they were quickly silenced by a sudden, overwhelming presence. Sol rose from his seat. The room shifted, an invisible weight pressing down on everyone present. His older brothers froze, their disdain replaced by shock as they instinctively bowed their heads.

"What...what is this?" one of them muttered, their voice trembling.

They'd never felt such power radiating from the runt of their litter, let alone an Omega. It wasn't just the brothers. The Alpha King himself stiffened in his seat, his gaze narrowing as he studied his youngest son. For the first time, true power radiated from Sol-raw, unyielding, and undeniable. They saw that the entire hall-five hundred wolves-fell to their knees. They had submitted to him, and he didn't do it on purpose.

Even Sol seemed momentarily stunned by the shift, but his focus quickly returned to his daughter. He strode across the hall with purpose, the crowd parting for him as if drawn by an invisible force.

He reached his child, opened his arms and and Ayla, weak and trembling, collapsed into them, the strength she had managed to gather weakening. Sol lifted her easily, cradling her against his broad chest.

The power radiating from him was undeniable. He turned to face the court, his gaze fierce. His brothers, once so scornful, now averted their eyes, their bodies tense and trembling.

"We shall abide by the rulings of this court. But until the arrival of the tribunal in three days," Sol announced, his voice deep and commanding. "My family will not be disturbed."

The wolves bowed lower, their heads touching the ground, as if having received an alpha command. Sol bowed his head to the Alpha King then left the hall with his wife by his side and his daughter in his arms. His steps were measured, his strength palpable. Something had changed.

Behind them, Sol's two older sons stayed besides their uncles, watching this scene unfold with mixed feelings.

As the doors closed behind the family, the Alpha King remained seated, his expression unreadable. But deep down, he knew: the tides had shifted.

And the fate of their world now lay in the hands of the granddaughter he had once dismissed.