From Banished Omega To Supreme Luna

Chapter 4

RHYANNE

The hall erupted. It wasn't the scandalized murmuring from before— this was something bigger, a collective gasp that rippled outward and broke into a dozen overlapping conversations at once, nobles turning to each other with wide eyes and hands pressed to their mouths. Banishment. The word moved through the crowd like fire through dry grass.

I couldn't even breathe. I understand what I'd done was reckless, I'd known there would be consequences— a reprimand, maybe, extra duties, some humiliation I'd have to swallow for months. But banishment? Banishment meant leaving everything I'd ever known, everyone I'd ever loved, cast out into territories that owed me nothing and would as soon let a lone omega starve as look at her twice.

"Your Majesty." My father's voice cut through the noise, thin and desperate, I'd never heard him sound like that before. He'd dropped to one knee in front of the dais, head bowed but voice carrying. "Please. Banishment— that's too severe a punishment for a moment's temper. She's young, she didn't think before she acted, but she meant no true harm to the crown."

King Aldric looked down at him without emotions, and for a long, terrible moment I thought he wouldn't answer at all.

"Would you prefer she spend that temper rotting in the dungeons instead, Kaelen?" the king said finally, each word came out cold. "I assure you, that option remains on the table."

My father's shoulders flinched like he'd been struck. "N- no, Your Majesty. Of course not. I only ask for mercy. She's eighteen, barely more than a pup. The territories beyond our borders aren't kind to a lone wolf, let alone one traveling without protection or pack."

"Then she should have considered that before she struck a member of my house in front of the entire court," King Aldric said, and something in his tone made it clear the conversation, as far as he was concerned, was already over. "She is old enough to understand the consequences, old enough to know her place, and to know better than to raise her hand against a prince, whatever grievance she imagines she has. Perhaps this will teach her what years of service apparently could not."

I flinched at that, humiliation and fear tangling together until I couldn't tell where one ended and the other began. Beside my father, I caught sight of Cassian, still standing where I'd left him, his jaw tight, saying nothing. He didn't defend me, he didn't even ask his father to reconsider. Whatever brief flicker of shock crossed his face earlier had already hardened back into something unreadable, and I understood, with a sick kind of clarity, that this was exactly what he wanted. Not death, not me in the dungeon. He wants me just gone— erased from his presence, his court's memory, and the humiliation my refusal had cost him.

"Your Majesty, please—" my father tried again, and it was the pleading in his voice, more than anything else that had happened tonight, that made something in my chest finally crack open.

"I will give her until nightfall," the king said, cutting him off, "to gather what she needs and leave Ashenfall's borders. After that, she will be treated as any other trespasser found within our territory. I trust I don't need to explain what that means."

He didn't wait for a response, he turned, robes sweeping behind him, and the court began to stir back to life around us— servants ushering guests back toward the music, nobles already whispering the story into a shape they'd repeat for weeks. Just like that, it was decided. Just like that, my life had been folded up and handed back to me smaller than it had been a few hours ago.

The guards released my arms and I barely felt it.

My father reached me first, pulling me against him with a kind of desperation I'd never felt from him before— not in my entire years, or even through every hardship we'd survived together. He was shaking. I realized, distantly, that I was too.

"I'm sorry," I said, the words breaking apart as they left me. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean for it to— I just couldn't let him—"

"I know," he said into my hair, his voice was rough. "I know, little pup. I know."

Fenna reached us a moment later, tears streaking her face, and wrapped her arms around both of us without a word, like she could hold the three of us together tightly enough that nightfall might simply forget to come.

We moved somewhere quieter— a servants' corridor off the main hall, dim, mercifully empty— and for a long moment none of us said anything at all. I pressed my palms against my eyes and let myself finally cry, really cry, for the first time since the glass had shattered on the floor and Cassian and I made contact.

"I know what I did was reckless," I said finally, my voice came out thick because of all the crying. "I know I should have just— smiled, and apologized, and let it go. But he stood there and used my own wolf against me like it was a kindness, as if he was doing me some enormous favor by choosing someone so weak nobody else would ever want her. And I know how he is, Papa. I've served under him for years, I've watched the way he treats people who have no choice but to smile back. Living the rest of my life as his mate, his future queen, at his mercy every single day—" My voice cracked. "It would have been its own kind of banishment… just slower."

My father's face, which was already pale, went paler. He didn't argue with me, that was almost worse than if he had— some part of me had wanted him to tell me I was wrong, that it wouldn't have been so bad, that I'd overreacted. Instead he just looked at me with an expression I recognized, because I'd worn it myself a hundred times: helpless fury at something he couldn't fix.

"I thought about hiding you," he admitted quietly. "Somewhere in the lower quarters, somewhere the guards wouldn't think to look. But it's foolish. They'd find you within days, and it would only make things worse— for you, for Fenna, for all of us." He pressed his palms briefly against his eyes, steadying himself. "So instead, I'll tell you where to go."

I looked up at him.

"There's a territory east of here," he said, "a small, quiet one, run by wolves who don't necessarily ask questions about where you've come from as long as you're willing to work. I did business with a trader from there once, years ago, before you were born. It's honest work. Hard, but honest. You could earn your keep there while you find your feet." His voice wavered. "I'll come to you eventually, though not right away— it would draw too much attention, and I need to make sure Fenna is safe here without either of us to watch over her— but I will come. I promise you that."

"Papa—"

"I promise," he said again, firmer, like saying it twice might make it more true. "This isn't goodbye, Rhyanne. It's only a distance and we'll close it."

"And you?" I asked, wiping at my face with the back of my hand, hating how small my voice sounded. "What happens to you, staying here after this? They'll look at you differently now, they'll wonder if you taught me to be this way."

"Let them wonder." He said it with more steel than I'd heard from him all night, cupping my face in both hands the same way he used to when I was smaller. "I have survived worse than whispers, my girl. I survived losing your mother. I can survive this."

The mention of her, even in passing, settled heavy between us. He didn't say anything else about it, and neither did I.

Fenna took my hands in both of hers, squeezing hard enough to hurt, "I'll watch over him," she said. "Every day. I swear it to you. You don't have to worry about him while you're gone— you just have to worry about getting somewhere safe and staying there."