The pack did not speak openly about the ceremony after the council gathering, but silence carried more weight than argument ever had.
Mira felt it everywhere.
She felt it in the way warriors stopped their conversations when she approached. She felt it in the way the kitchen staff watched her hands, as if they expected them to tremble. She felt it in the way children stared with open curiosity, unaware that adults had already decided this story would define their generation.
No escape remained.
The council had spoken the date aloud. The scribe had written it into the record, and the moon would witness.
Two weeks had narrowed to six days.
Mira stood at the edge of the training grounds at dawn and watched the pack run drills. Ryker moved among them with controlled precision, correcting
