THE ALPHA-LUNA'S FIRST DECREE
The Council Chamber of Silvercrest had never known silence like this.
Luna stood at the head of the crescent-shaped table, a silver pendant resting at the hollow of her throat—a token of her title, engraved with the symbol of the Moon Goddess. Kael stood at her right, not as her consort, not yet but as her most trusted guard, and perhaps more.
Every eye was on her.
Elder Rowan was the first to speak. "So. What now, Alpha-Luna?"
She studied them. Once, she would have flinched at the cold in their stares. Now she matched it. "Now we clean house."
A murmur spread. Luna raised her hand. Silence fell.
"My father was murdered," she said. "You called it a sickness. I call it treason."
Gasps.
Kael stepped forward and dropped a bundle of scrolls onto the table—letters, intercepted messages, coded entries in the ledgers from the Council's own vaults. Proof of poisoned wine. Altered medicines. Whispers to outside packs about a shift in leadership.
Rowan's lips curled. "Do you think wolves will follow you with nothing but old parchment and rogue loyalty?"
"I think," Luna said calmly, "they already are."
She turned toward the open chamber doors. Her guards stepped aside as twenty wolves entered leaders of forgotten packs, lone alphas without territory, witches and healers. They were the broken and the dismissed. And they came because Luna had called them.
"These are the wolves your council ignored. Exiled. Betrayed. They are Silvercrest's future."
One elder stood. "This is rebellion."
"No," Luna said. "This is justice."
She laid her hand on the table. Her voice dropped, but her tone sharpened.
"My first decree is this: The Council is hereby dissolved. Effective immediately."
Chaos erupted.
Elders rose, shouting. A few guards moved forward—but Kael and his warriors blocked their path. Luna didn't move.
"You can fight me," she said. "But know this—I won't bleed for your pride."
It took three hours. But in the end, only five members of the Council remained. The rest fled, were arrested, or quietly disappeared.
Luna's reign began not with a coronation, but with a purge.
In the days that followed, Luna walked the pack lands like a ghost made flesh.
She visited the orphan dens and listened to the children's stories. She sat with warriors and asked about their losses. She healed when she could. When she couldn't, she bore witness.
Kael rarely left her side.
At night, they sat by the fire in her new quarters—no longer the pristine room she grew up in, but a simpler space carved from old stone, reclaimed from the ruins of the first Alpha's hall.
"You're not sleeping," Kael said one night.
"I don't have time."
"You need to make time."
She looked at him, exhausted. "The Council tried to murder my father, Kael. And for what? Power?"
"For fear," he corrected. "They feared what you'd become."
She held his gaze. "And what is that?"
He didn't flinch. "Something none of them could control."
That week, Luna sent envoys to neighboring packs. Not to demand loyalty—but to offer peace. In return, she invited displaced wolves to join Silvercrest. Her vision was clear: a united territory not ruled by bloodline but by integrity.
Some packs refused.
Others came.
Among them was a young Alpha named Soren from the Fireclaw Pack. He arrived with three warriors and a proposal.
"You're making waves, Luna," he said, seated across from her in the war room. "And waves drown the unprepared."
She raised a brow. "Are you offering to teach me to swim?"
He grinned. "I'm offering an alliance. Fireclaw and Silvercrest. Shared resources. Joint patrols. A new frontier."
Kael remained silent, but his eyes narrowed.
Luna nodded slowly. "And what do you ask in return?"
Soren's smile faded. "Your help. My people are starving. Our lands were scorched last winter. You have forests. We have warriors."
Luna stood and extended her hand. "Then let's rebuild. Together."
Soren took her hand, and with it, a new era began.
But not everyone welcomed the change.
Three nights later, assassins slipped into the pack.
Kael woke to the scent of blood.
He kicked Luna's door open. She was already awake, blade in hand. Her wolf's instincts had sharpened since her return.
Two attackers stood over her bed. They never saw Kael coming.
The fight was quick. Brutal.
One assassin fell. The other ran.
Kael gave chase.
He caught the man at the gates and tore the truth from him.
A surviving elder. Rowan. Gone into hiding. Gathering others.
Luna burned the traitor's body at dawn.
Her decree: "For every shadow cast, we will become light."
And she meant it.
She trained harder. Ate with her warriors. Slept beside her wolf. She and Kael were bonded now—not yet mates, not fully but bound by something deeper than ceremony.
They hunted traitors. Rebuilt villages. Forged new traditions.
And every night, Luna whispered her vow to the stars:
"I will never be caged again."