Dawn broke over Blackthorn like a forgiveness Elara wasn't sure she deserved.
She stood at the window of what had once been Kael's quarters—now theirs, though it still felt strange to think of it that way. Below, the compound stirred with uneasy life. Wolves who'd spent months following Marlena now didn't know what to do with themselves. They hovered in doorways, clustered in nervous groups, watched the guest quarters where the loyalists had been housed with something like fear.
What will she do to us? their eyes seemed to ask. What punishment awaits?
Elara didn't have an answer yet.
Kael's arms wrapped around her from behind. "You've been standing there for an hour."
"Thinking."
"About?"
"Marlena. The pack. What happens next." She leaned into him. "I told them no punishment. No retribution. But some of them—they did terrible things, Kael. Under her orders. How do I just... forgive that?"
"You don't." His voice was quiet. "Not all of it. Not automatically. Justice isn't the same as vengeance, but it's not the same as blind mercy either." He turned her to face him. "You judge each case individually. The ones who followed orders because they were scared—mercy, with conditions. The ones who enjoyed the cruelty—punishment. The ones who actively helped Marlena try to kill you—" His jaw tightened. "They answer for it."
Justice. Not revenge. Not forgetting. Justice.
"You're good at this," she said. "The ruling thing."
"I've had practice." He almost smiled. "You'll learn. Faster than you think."
Through the bond, she felt his confidence in her. His absolute certainty that she could handle whatever came next.
She wished she shared it.
---
The first order of business was the families.
Cassian had spent the night locating every wolf who'd supported the loyalist cause—the ones who'd hidden, who'd whispered prayers for the queen's return, who'd kept the old stories alive in secret. They emerged now from shadows and cellars, blinking in the morning light like creatures unaccustomed to hope.
Elara met them in the great hall.
Forty-three wolves. Families with children, elders who'd waited decades, young wolves who'd only heard stories of the Silver Crown. They looked at her with the same expression she'd seen at the palace—awe, hope, desperate need to believe.
"My grandmother told me about you." A young girl—no more than eight—stepped forward, clutching a worn doll. "She said the queen would come back someday. That she'd make everything better."
Elara's throat tightened. She knelt to the girl's level. "What's your name?"
"Lira."
"Lira." She smiled. "I can't promise to make everything better. That's too big for anyone. But I can promise to try. Every day. For as long as I live."
Lira studied her with ancient eyes. "That's what grandmother said you'd say."
Behind her, the girl's mother wept.
---
By midday, the hall had transformed.
Tables brought from storage. Food prepared by wolves who'd suddenly remembered they knew how to cook. Children running between legs, laughter slowly replacing fear. It wasn't celebration—not yet. But it was something close. Something hopeful.
Elara moved through the crowd, learning names, hearing stories, offering what comfort she could. Kael stayed close, his presence a anchor she desperately needed.
Through the bond, she felt his pride in her. His love. His steady, unwavering support.
I couldn't do this without you, she thought.
You could. But you don't have to.
Thank the Moon for that.
---
The afternoon brought harder work.
Marlena's supporters—the ones who hadn't defected—had been gathered in the training yard under guard. Not prisoners, exactly. More like... witnesses awaiting verdict.
Elara walked among them now, Kael at her side, Cassian and Lyra flanking for protection she hoped she wouldn't need.
Most of the faces she recognized. Wolves who'd sneered at her in the kitchens. Warriors who'd looked through her like she was nothing. Omegas who'd followed Marta's example of quiet survival rather than active cruelty.
But some—a handful—looked at her with something else. Defiance. Hatred. The same cold contempt that had lived in Marlena's eyes.
Those, she thought, will be the problem.
Kael's hand found hers. Squeezed.
One at a time, he thought. You don't have to decide everything today.
I know. But I feel the weight of it. Their lives, in my hands.
That's what being queen means. Feeling the weight. Carrying it anyway.
She looked at him. When did you get so wise?
I had a good teacher. His lips quirked. Watching you.
---
The first judgment came easier than expected.
A young warrior, barely older than Elara, who'd followed Marlena's orders because he was scared. Because his family would have been punished if he'd refused. Because he hadn't known what else to do.
"I'm not asking for forgiveness." His voice shook. "I know what I did. I stood by while she hurt people. I didn't stop it. I didn't even try." He met Elara's eyes. "But if you'll let me—I want to make it right. However I can. Whatever it takes."
Elara studied him. Through the bond, through her awakened senses, she felt his truth. His shame. His desperate need for redemption.
"What's your name?"
"Roran."
"Roran." She nodded slowly. "You'll work. Rebuilding what was broken. Helping the families who suffered. You'll answer to Cassian—if he says you're slacking, if he says you're not trying, there will be consequences." She held his gaze. "But if you prove yourself—if you show that you meant what you said—there's a place for you here. In the new Blackthorn. In the new kingdom."
Tears filled his eyes. "Thank you. Thank you, Your Highness."
As he was led away, Kael spoke quietly. "That was mercy. But not blind mercy. Conditioned on action. Good."
"It felt right."
"It was."
---
The next dozen judgments followed similar patterns.
Wolves who'd followed out of fear. Wolves who'd kept their heads down and survived. Wolves who'd made terrible choices but seemed genuinely willing to make amends.
Each received the same offer: work, prove yourself, earn your place.
Each accepted.
By late afternoon, only five remained.
And these five were different.
Elara felt it the moment she approached them—the coldness in their eyes, the curl of contempt on their lips, the absolute lack of remorse. These weren't followers. These were believers. Wolves who'd embraced Marlena's cruelty because it suited them.
The leader—a broad-shouldered warrior with a scar through his eyebrow—met her gaze with open hatred.
"You expect us to grovel?" His voice was loud, carrying across the yard. "To beg forgiveness from a human who got lucky?"
"I expect nothing." Elara's voice was calm. "I offer a choice. The same choice I offered everyone else. Work, prove yourself, earn your place—"
"And if we refuse?"
"Then you're free to leave Blackthorn. Permanently. Exile, not execution." She held his gaze. "I won't kill you for your beliefs. But I won't let you poison what we're building here."
The warrior laughed—ugly and sharp. "Exile. To what? Rogues? Wastelands?" He spat on the ground at her feet. "I'd rather die than take orders from you."
Kael moved—fast as lightning—and had the warrior pinned to the ground before anyone could blink.
"You don't get to make that choice." His voice was ice. "You threatened my mate. You supported the woman who tried to have her killed. You've shown nothing but contempt for everyone in this pack who isn't as cruel as you." He leaned closer. "So here's your choice: exile, or execution. Pick now."
The warrior's bravado crumbled.
"Exile," he whispered. "Exile."
Kael released him. Stepped back.
The five were led away to be escorted to the borders.
---
Elara watched them go, her heart heavy.
"Was that right?" she asked quietly. "Giving them a chance to leave?"
"They chose cruelty. You chose mercy—even when they didn't deserve it." Kael's arm wrapped around her. "That's the difference between you and Marlena. That's why they'll follow you, and why they followed her out of fear."
She leaned into him. "It doesn't feel like mercy. It feels like... avoiding hard choices."
"Sometimes mercy is the hard choice." He kissed her temple. "You did good today. Really good."
Through the bond, she felt his pride. His love. His absolute certainty that she was exactly the queen these wolves needed.
I hope you're right, she thought.
I am. A pause. For once.
She laughed—actually laughed—and the sound surprised her.
Maybe, just maybe, they'd get through this after all.
---
That night, Elara stood before the great hall's hearth, looking out at the wolves who'd gathered.
Loyalists and former Marlena supporters alike. Wolves who'd fought for her and wolves who'd fought against her. All watching, waiting, hoping.
She'd prepared a speech. Planned every word.
But as she looked at their faces, the words fled.
So she spoke from the heart instead.
"I'm not going to pretend this will be easy." Her voice carried across the silence. "Too much has happened. Too much pain. Too much fear. Some of you lost people you loved because of choices made by others. Some of you made choices you're not proud of. None of that disappears overnight."
Murmurs of agreement.
"But here's what I know." She let her power flicker—just enough to remind them what she was. "The old ways are over. The master is dead. The Silver Crown is restored. And I—" She touched her chest. "I am your queen. Not because I want power. Because I want peace. Because I want hope. Because I want a future where no wolf has to choose between following cruelty and being destroyed."
She looked around at their faces.
"I can't build that future alone. I need you. All of you. The ones who believed in me from the beginning and the ones who're only now starting to hope." She smiled—tired but real. "So here's my offer: stay. Help us rebuild. Help us create something new. And in return, I'll spend every day of my life trying to be worthy of your trust."
Silence.
Then, slowly, wolves began to kneel.
Not all of them. Not yet. But enough. More than enough.
Kael's hand found hers.
You did it, he thought. You really did it.
We did it. Together.
Together.
---
End of Chapter 24🐺