The Soul’s Chorus

Chapter 3

The Grand Atrium was even more full than before. Tonight was a formal Convocation. The Alpha Primus had news to share. Every wolf of rank stood in neat rows, like stones in a wall. The air buzzed with low talk. It smelled of pine resin burned in big bowls and the waxy scent of polished floors.

Chloe stood in her assigned place, near the back. Her mother, Freya, was a tense shadow beside her. Chloe wore another blue dress. This one was heavier. It had silver threads sewn into the collar. They felt like cold fingers on her neck.

She kept her eyes down. She looked at the patterns in the stone floor. She tried to make her mind go quiet. But it was hard. The Blood Moon was coming. The Blood Moon meant her wedding. She could feel the days slipping away, each one faster than the last.

A horn sounded. One long, clear note. The talking stopped. Every head turned.

Corbin Anderson walked to the high platform at the front of the hall. He moved with a slow, sure power. His steps were not loud, but they seemed to shake the room. He wore black tonight. A jacket of black velvet. Pants of black wool. Around his neck was a chain of office, made of dark iron and moonstones. It looked heavy.

He did not smile. He looked out over the crowd. His winter-grey eyes moved from face to face. The silence grew thick. You could hear the rustle of a robe. The click of a boot heel.

“Silvathorne,” he said. His voice filled the hall without him seeming to shout. It was a voice used to command. “We gather under the watchful sky. The moon grows. It climbs toward its peak. Toward its power.”

He paused. His gaze swept over them all. It felt like a cold wind.

“Tradition is our foundation. It is the root that holds the great tree of our people. We do not stray from it. We honor it. With every season. With every moon cycle. And with every union that strengthens our pack.”

A ripple went through the crowd. A ripple of understanding. This was about the wedding. Chloe felt her stomach twist into a hard knot. She did not look up. She stared at the floor so hard her eyes burned.

“The Blood Moon rises in thirty nights,” Corbin announced. His words were clean and sharp, like chips of ice. “On that night, when the red shadow kisses the silver light, we will have a great joining. A union to bind a strong line to a… redeemed one. To show that even the weakest branch can be grafted to the strongest tree, if guided by a firm hand.”

Chloe felt every word like a small cut. Weakest branch. Redeemed one. A firm hand. Her face grew hot. She was glad her hair covered her cheeks. She saw Freya’s hand, clenched white at her side.

“The joining of the Alpha Primus to Chloe Vexis will be the heart of the Blood Moon rites,” Corbin continued. He said her name like it was just another word. Not a person. A thing. “Let all the realm prepare. Let the groves be dressed. Let the old songs be practiced. This will be a night Silvathorne remembers.”

There were nods. Murmurs of agreement. It was expected. It was the formal announcement. A few people glanced back at her. Their looks were a mix of pity and cold curiosity.

Chloe let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. Maybe it was over. Maybe she could just go back to being invisible until the terrible night arrived.

But Corbin was not done.

He placed his hands on the rail of the platform. He leaned forward, just a little. The movement drew everyone in.

“For a union of such importance,” he said, and now his voice took on a new tone. It was smoother. It was more dangerous. “The bride must be prepared. She must be kept safe. The weeks before a joining are fraught with old spirits and restless energies. A Sunderling is particularly vulnerable.”

The word Sunderling hung in the air. It was a slap. He did not say my bride. He said a Sunderling.

“Therefore,” Corbin said, his eyes now moving to a specific point in the crowd. “I will appoint a permanent guardian. A protector of pure and proven power. To keep her safe. To guide her steps. To ensure she arrives at the Blood Moon pure, and ready.”

Chloe’s heart beat hard against her ribs. A guardian? Like a babysitter? Like a jailer? Her shame deepened. Now she was not just a stain, but a weak thing that needed to be watched.

“For this duty,” Corbin said, a slow smile finally touching his lips. It was a smile with no warmth. “I choose one of our finest. A Lunarth of unwavering loyalty. A keeper of our borders. Kaelen.”

A sharp whisper flew through the hall like a bird.

Chloe’s head jerked up. She couldn’t stop herself. Her eyes found him.

Kaelen stood off to the left, with the other Lunarths. He had been still as stone. Now, at the sound of his name, his head lifted. His green eyes met Corbin’s grey ones across the room. His face showed nothing. No surprise. No anger. It was a mask. But Chloe saw the tiny twitch in his jaw. A muscle tightening, then relaxing.

“Kaelen,” Corbin said, as if enjoying the taste of the name. “Your service on the border has been flawless. Your blood is among the purest. There is no one better to teach the value of our traditions. You will be the shadow to her light. You will guard Chloe Vexis every hour until she stands by my side. Where she goes, you go. This is my decree.”

The room was utterly silent. No one whispered now. This was not normal. This was a move in a game, and everyone was trying to understand the rules.

A guardian for a bride was not unheard of. But a high-born Lunarth, a warrior and scholar, assigned as a constant watchman for a Sunderling? It was an insult. To both of them.

To Kaelen, it said: Your great skills are only good for watching a shameful girl. You are not needed for real work.

To Chloe, it screamed: You are so untrustworthy, so weak, that I must put my best wolf on you like a leash.

It was a public punishment. Wrapped in pretty words about safety and honor, but a punishment all the same. Corbin was putting them both in a cage and holding up the key for everyone to see.

Kaelen took one step forward. He gave a single, stiff bow of his head. “As the Alpha Primus commands,” he said. His voice was flat. Empty. It gave away nothing.

“Good,” Corbin said. The cold smile stayed on his face. He turned his gaze away from Kaelen and let it land on Chloe. It felt like a weight. “Chloe. You will thank your guardian. You will obey him in all things pertaining to your safety. His word is my word.”

All eyes turned to her. She felt them like hot pins on her skin. She had to speak. She had to move. Her legs felt like water.

She stepped forward, out of the shadow of the crowd. She kept her head bowed, but she walked toward the center of the space between the rows. She could feel Kaelen walking too, from the other side. They met in the middle of the big floor, under the watch of everyone.

She finally lifted her eyes. She looked at Kaelen. Up close, she saw the storm in his green eyes. Not anger at her. Something else. A trapped feeling. She knew that feeling.

She then turned and looked up at Corbin on his platform. He watched them, that smile still there. Enjoying his show.

“Thank you, Alpha Primus,” she said. Her voice was quiet, but it did not shake. “For your thoughtful protection.” She chose the words carefully. They tasted like ash in her mouth.

She then turned to Kaelen. He was taller than her. He looked down at her. His expression was still unreadable. But in his eyes, for just a flash, she saw it again. That look from the Convergence. Not scorn. Recognition. Of her humiliation. Of their shared trap.

“Thank you, Guardian,” she said, the title feeling strange.

He gave another small nod. “My duty,” he said. The words were meant for the crowd. But the way he said them, so quiet, so final, felt like they were for her alone.

“The decree is set!” Corbin’s voice boomed, breaking the moment. “Let the preparations continue!”

The horn sounded again. The formal part was over. The crowd broke into loud talk. The noise washed over Chloe like a wave.

People began to move around them, but they gave Chloe and Kaelen a wide space. It was as if the two of them were in a bubble of shame. They stood there, in the middle of the floor, unsure what to do.

Corbin descended from the platform. He walked right up to them. He clapped a heavy hand on Kaelen’s shoulder. It looked friendly. But his grip was tight.

“I know I ask much of you, Kaelen,” Corbin said, his voice low so only they could hear. “Watching a fragile thing is tedious work for a warrior. But it is a test of patience. Of loyalty. See it through.”

He then looked at Chloe. His eyes went to her silver streak. “And you, my dear. Learn from him. Learn what it means to be part of something pure. Let him scrub the wildness out of you before our wedding night.”

His words were a soft, vile poison. Chloe felt sick.

He smiled his cold smile once more and walked away, surrounded by his advisors.

Chloe and Kaelen were left alone in the crowd. The noise of the pack swirled around them, but between them was a stiff, awkward silence. They were tied together now. By a decree meant to shame them. By the watchful, laughing eyes of the entire pack.

The gilded cage now had a second prisoner. And a new, complicated lock.