The Stone Expanse did not welcome anyone.
It stretched wide and bare beneath a bruised sky, a vast plain of pale rock carved smooth by centuries of wind and blood. No trees. No cover. No place to hide intent. The ancient ones had chosen this ground precisely because lies struggled to survive here.
Aria felt it the moment her boots touched stone.
Pressure—not magical, but historical. Every argument ever shouted here had left an echo. Every alliance broken had stained the ground invisibly.
"This place remembers," she murmured.
Ronan glanced at her. "So do wolves."
Delegations arrived from every direction.
The Frostfall banner snapped sharply in the wind. The Broken Shoals followed close behind. To the east, the Silver Coast arrived in pristine formation, their emissaries immaculate. From the north came the Ironwood Pack—thick-bodied wolves with scarred armor and expressions carved from granite. Farther west, the Ashveil Pack appeared, their colors dark, their movements cautious.
And beneath all of it—
Expectation.
Aria felt eyes on her constantly. Not just curiosity now.
Judgment.
Eamon leaned close. "They're not here to listen yet."
Ronan snorted. "They never are."
At the center of the Expanse stood the Council Ring—an enormous circle of standing stones etched with ancient laws older than any pack. No one stood within it until the summit formally opened.
Until then, tension built.
⸻
Clashing Alphas
The first confrontation happened before the horns even sounded.
Ironwood's Alpha—a massive wolf named Brakk—strode directly toward Ronan, stopping only a few paces away.
"So this is the wolf who bound himself to a human," Brakk said loudly.
Ronan didn't flinch. "And you must be the Alpha who confuses volume with authority."
A ripple of growls passed through Ironwood's ranks.
Brakk's gaze slid to Aria. "You smell wrong. Like moonstone and danger."
Aria met his stare calmly. "You smell afraid."
Gasps echoed.
Brakk snarled. "Careful."
"No," Aria replied quietly. "You are."
The Devourer stirred, pleased.
Yes. Let pride crack first.
Before Brakk could respond, Lyessa's voice cut in sharply. "Enough. Save your posturing for the stones."
Reluctantly, Brakk stepped back, though his glare promised later conflict.
Ronan exhaled slowly. "They want you provoked."
Aria nodded. "Then I won't give them fire. Only truth."
⸻
The Summit Opens
The horns finally sounded—deep, resonant calls that rolled across the Expanse.
One by one, the Alphas stepped into the Council Ring.
Ronan entered without hesitation.
Kaelor followed.
Lyessa took her place, composed.
Brakk entered last, eyes never leaving Aria.
The oldest of the elders—an ash-gray wolf whose name had been lost to time—raised a staff carved with all pack sigils.
"The summit is called," the elder intoned. "To address the binding of the Devourer and the one called Moonbreaker."
The staff struck stone.
"The floor opens."
Brakk moved immediately.
"This human threatens the balance," he thundered. "She rewrites ancient law without consent. Today she binds monsters. Tomorrow she binds us."
Murmurs surged.
The Devourer leaned closer.
They are already afraid of what you could become.
Ronan growled. "She bound nothing that wasn't already feeding on your failures."
Brakk turned on him. "Silence, Frostfall."
Before Ronan could respond, Aria stepped forward.
Every sound died.
"I didn't come to rule," Aria said, voice carrying across the Expanse without strain. "I didn't come to be feared. And I didn't come to replace your Alphas."
She paused.
"I came because fear was already ruling you."
Brakk laughed harshly. "Pretty words."
Aria nodded. "Fear likes to dismiss truth as poetry."
Lyessa folded her arms. "Then prove it."
Aria felt the weight of the moment settle fully.
This was it.
She stepped into the Council Ring.
Ronan stiffened—but did not stop her.
The stones hummed faintly.
"I will not dominate you," Aria said clearly. "I will not command your packs. I will not rewrite your laws."
Gasps rippled.
Brakk sneered. "Then why are you here?"
Aria met his gaze steadily.
"Because the Devourer is still here," she said. "And it is no longer hiding in shadows. It is hiding in you."
Outrage erupted.
"You dare—!"
She raised her hand—not in power, but in invitation.
"Feel it," she said softly.
The Council Ring responded.
Not with light.
With resonance.
A pulse rippled outward—not binding, not forcing—just revealing.
Suddenly, emotions sharpened.
Fear.
Anger.
Doubt.
Each Alpha felt it surge within themselves.
Brakk staggered back a step, face paling.
Kaelor clenched his fists.
Lyessa inhaled sharply.
Aria's voice stayed steady. "That pressure? That urge to control instead of trust? That's what the Devourer feeds on now."
The Devourer hissed, furious.
Stop.
She continued anyway.
"I bound it so it cannot take," Aria said. "But I cannot stop you from offering."
The stones fell silent.
Brakk's voice came rough. "So what? We kneel to you?"
"No," Aria said immediately. "You stand with yourselves."
She turned slowly, addressing the ring.
"The Devourer promised certainty through fear. I offer uncertainty through choice. That is harder. Slower. And it requires courage."
She looked at each Alpha in turn.
"You want to kill me because that feels simpler. But killing me won't bring back fear. It will only prove you still need it."
Silence stretched—aching, heavy.
Then Kaelor stepped forward.
"She speaks truth," he said. "I've watched it happen in my pack. The hunger weakens when we choose responsibility."
Lyessa nodded slowly. "The Silver Coast confirms the same."
All eyes turned to Brakk.
His jaw worked. His pride warred visibly with something deeper.
The Devourer whispered desperately.
They will follow you. Say no.
Brakk exhaled hard.
"I do not trust her," he said finally.
Aria nodded. "You don't have to."
Brakk continued, voice rougher now. "But I trust what I felt just now even less."
A stunned hush fell.
Brakk straightened. "Ironwood will not move against the Moonbreaker."
Shock rippled across the Expanse.
The Devourer recoiled violently.
⸻
The Vote
The elder lifted his staff again. "Then we vote."
One by one, the packs declared.
Frostfall: Support.
Broken Shoals: Support.
Silver Coast: Conditional support.
Ashveil: Abstain.
Ironwood: Neutral.
No condemnation.
No execution.
No banishment.
The elder struck the staff once.
"The Moonbreaker stands recognized," he declared. "Not as ruler. But as constraint."
Aria's knees almost buckled.
Ronan caught her instantly.
"You did it," he murmured.
She shook her head faintly. "We did."
⸻
After the Decision
As the summit dissolved into tense conversation, Eamon approached, eyes grave.
"The Devourer is wounded," he said quietly. "Not weakened—but cornered."
Ronan frowned. "Meaning?"
"Meaning it will abandon subtlety soon."
Aria felt it too—a distant, simmering rage.
"It's running out of places to hide," she whispered.
Ronan squeezed her hand. "Then we stay ready."
She looked out over the Stone Expanse, the standing stones silent once more.
The world had chosen—for now.
But fear never disappeared quietly.
And the Devourer had one last advantage left.
Time.