The Silver Dragon

"Step forward, Omega."

The High Elder’s voice boomed across the ritual stone, vibrating through the soles of Elara’s bare feet. She moved, her heart drumming a frantic rhythm. The Blood Moon hung heavy and crimson above the Silver Moon Pack, casting jagged shadows across the thousands of wolves gathered.

She reached the center of the circle. Her gaze locked onto Kael. He stood on the raised dais, broad shoulders draped in ceremonial furs, his dark eyes burning with an intensity that made her breath hitch. The bond was screaming—a physical pull, a golden thread wrapped around her soul.

"Do you feel it, Kael?" Elara whispered. "The moon is witness. We are fated."

Kael didn’t move. His face remained a mask of cold, chiseled granite.

"I feel a burden, Elara," Kael said, his voice amplified by the silence. "Nothing more."

The crowd shifted, a low murmur rippling through the ranks. Elara’s hands began to shake. "Kael, the bond... it’s blooming. I am yours. I have waited for this night to stand by your side as Luna."

"You? Luna?"

A sharp, mocking laugh sliced through the air. Sarah, Elara’s stepsister, stepped out from the Alpha’s shadow. She was draped in silver silk, her eyes shimmering with calculated malice. She slid a slender hand onto Kael’s forearm.

"An Omega with a dormant wolf is not a Luna, Elara," Sarah purred. "She is a parasite. A liability. Tell her, Kael. Tell the pack what a real Alpha requires."

Elara looked at Kael, begging him with her eyes. "Kael, please. I am your fated. The moon doesn't make mistakes."

"The moon gave me a choice between a legacy and a weakness," Kael snapped, stepping toward the edge of the dais. He looked down at her, his lip curling. "A pack is only as strong as its weakest link. You have no scent, no shift, and no strength. You are a hollow shell, Elara. You cannot give me the heirs this pack needs. You cannot defend our borders. You are a mistake of nature."

"I am your mate!" Elara cried. "You can't just ignore the Goddess!"

"I am the Alpha," Kael roared. The sheer weight of his aura crushed the air from her lungs, forcing her to her knees. "I decide who sits on the throne. And I choose a woman who matches my blood."

He turned to the High Elder, raising Sarah’s hand high into the moonlight.

"I, Alpha Kael of the Silver Moon Pack, reject the fated bond with the Omega Elara," he declared. "I sever the tie. I cast her out of my heart and my future. In her place, I claim Sarah as my true Luna, bound by blood and by choice."

The snap was instantaneous. In her mind’s eye, Elara saw the golden thread ignite and turn to ash. A scream tore from her throat as a void opened in her chest—a hollow, freezing agony. The pack let out a collective howl of approval.

"It is done," the Elder whispered, his eyes flickering with a pity Elara hated.

Elara gasped for air, clutching her stomach. "Kael... how could you? After everything?"

Kael didn't look at her. He was busy looking at Sarah. "Be grateful, Elara. I could have had you executed for your insolence. Instead, I am giving you a chance to prove your worth—or lack thereof."

"What does that mean?" Elara asked.

"The pack laws are clear," Sarah interjected. "A rejected female of the inner circle who cannot shift is a drain on resources. You are being reassigned, sister."

"Reassigned?"

"You are banished," Kael said. "Effective immediately. You will be escorted to the Western Border. You are to enter the Death Lands. If you survive until the next Blood Moon, perhaps I will allow you to return as a servant. But we both know you won't last the night."

The crowd gasped. The Death Lands were a graveyard of twisted trees and rogue monsters.

"Kael, no!" Elara lunged forward, but two massive Enforcers pinned her back. "You’re killing me! You know what’s out there!"