Nate looked away sharply.

The guard swallowed before continuing carefully. "But there are also reports from the eastern borders."

That got Nate’s attention instantly.

"What reports?"

"Missing patrols."

Aire looked up slightly at that.

The guard shifted uneasily. "Silver suppression wounds again."

Nate’s expression changed fully now.

The guard lowered his voice further. "The council wishes to focus on the Luna’s containment first."

Nate scoffed in disbelief.

Wolves were disappearing near the borders and the council still obsessed over the terrified girl chained underground.

Nate’s jaw tightened sharply. "Leave us."

The guard bowed quickly before retreating again.

Silence returned shortly afterward.

Aire looked down at the cup in her hands quietly. "Suppression wounds?" she questioned.

Nate leaned back against the wall beside her again slowly.

"There have been attacks near the borders for months. Its been more worse than you knew."

Aire frowned faintly. She remembered the vision she got from the silver bracelet. She blinked, and shook her head, brushing it away.

Nate looked toward the dungeon bars quietly.

"The moment the first wolf howl rises outside this castle tomorrow..." His voice lowered dangerously. "If my father has not made a decision to release you..."

Aire looked at him slowly.

Nate turned toward her fully now. "I will take you out myself."

Aire’s breath caught.

Nate held her gaze steadily. "I mean that."

"Nate—"

"I do not care what it costs me anymore."

Aire stared at him for a long second.

Then quietly, she shook her head, and asked softly. "You would go against your father?"

Nate’s expression didn’t even shift. "I would go against the realm itself for this."

Aire’s heart stumbled painfully.

Gods.

That frightened her almost more than the dungeon did.

She knew Nate wasn’t speaking recklessly. He meant every word and somewhere deep beneath her hurt, she believed him.

...

Elsewhere above the dungeon, tension consumed the council chamber entirely.

Their voices overlapped loudly around the long table while reports remained abandoned near the center untouched.

King Elijah stood at the head of the chamber watching them with growing disgust. His disgust grew the more they talked.

"They are already organizing publicly," one elder argued sharply. "The longer the girl remains alive, the worse the unrest becomes."

Another elder nodded immediately in agreement. "The wolves demand action."

"Then perhaps the wolves should remember who rules them," Elijah snapped, finally reaching his limit.

The room fell briefly silent.

One of the military men broke the silence. "She is dangerous."

"She frightened the kingdom." Another one hummed in support.

"The prophecy—"

"The prophecy has poisoned every ounce of sense left in this room," Elijah cut in sharply. "Quiet."

The elders shifted uneasily.

The military leaders remained tense along the far side of the table while several council members refused even to glance toward the eastern border reports still waiting unopened.

Elijah anger deepened instantly at their refusal to look at the reports.

"Six wolves missing near the eastern borders," he said coldly. "One found mutilated with suppression wounds."

Still no one responded properly.

One elder spoke instead. "The greater threat still remains beneath this castle."

Elijah’s eyes darkened.

"The Luna should be executed before panic worsens." He added.

Several elders nodded immediately.

Elijah stared at them in disbelief. 𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖

The room felt suffocating now.

No one cared about the borders and no one cared about the disappearances. What everyone cares about was what should be done to Aire.

"She has been cursed from the start," another elder said finally after Elijah’s silence stretched too long. "She contributes nothing to the realm most especially after becoming Luna."

The room froze at the open blasphemy towards the Luna. Cursed and wolfless or not, she was still Luna. Prophecy or not, she was still Luna.

King Elijah’s eyes darkened instantly.

A glint of fury crossed his face so quickly several elders leaned back instinctively. He kept his title aside, and stood up so abruptly his chair crashed backward violently against the floor.

The sound thundered through the chamber.

"You speak of her," Elijah said quietly, "as though she is not standing beneath my roof still Luna to this realm."

The elder stiffened faintly but continued anyway. "My king—"

King Elijah snapped, cutting him off. "My sons would burn this kingdom to the ground for that girl who you discarded so easily, and I have until midnight to make this right."

The room went still. They had not expected Thai to be the situation. They thought only King Elijah had the final say, and his sons would follow with whatever he chooses.

Elijah’s voice roughened suddenly beneath the anger. "And you speak of killing her like it costs nothing."

He remembered his mate.

Gods. He remembered exactly what it felt like losing her, the helplessness, the agony, and the madness afterward.

He would not survive watching his sons endure the same destruction.

Especially not like this.

The elder straightened slightly. "With respect, King Elijah, your sons’ feelings cannot outweigh the safety of the realm."

That did it.

Elijah moved towards him fast.

His claws surfaced instantly as he lunged across the table toward the elder.

Gasps erupted around the chamber.

Several council members shoved backward in panic.

The elder barely had time to react when the doors exploded open, and a blur moved across the chamber.

Then suddenly, there was blood.

Hot blood sprayed violently across the council table.

The elder’s body remained standing for one horrifying second before collapsing heavily sideways.

His head was gone.

Several elders stumbled backward in terror.

Right behind the elder, Alaric stood beneath the torchlight holding the severed head by the hair.

Blood dripped steadily onto the stone floor beneath him.

The entire room froze.

Alaric’s expression remained terrifyingly calm. His eyes lifted slowly toward the remaining elders one by one, cold, and deadly.

Possessive fury radiated from him so violently even the military heads stayed silent.

Then finally, Alaric raised the severed head slightly higher.

"Would anyone else," he asked quietly, "like to speak freely about my mate?"