THE SUBJECT OF HIS POSSESION

Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Avolio's POV

Her knees hit the marble before I understood what was happening.

Not fear.

Submission.

The sound of bone meeting stone snapped through the hall louder than any roar, her small body folding inward as if the floor itself had reached up and claimed her. My spine went rigid as I turned to her. Every muscle locked, every sense snapping sharp. My wolf howled in vehement disagreement within me.

Then she spoke.

“By claw and command, I yield,”

The words left her lips barely louder than a breath at first, then as if in pain, her voice pitched, frayed and raw, dragging the rest of her words from somewhere so deep I was afraid her bones would cave under the intensity

“By silence, I survive.”

“I am owned by the one who dominates until released.”

The air shattered.

I felt shock wash over me like ice poured on warm flesh. That vow did not exist in everyday stories. No omega should know it. No omega could know it unless she had been defiled and conditioned piece by piece, rewritten like a script until obedience lived where Will once had.

This was a disaster.

I felt recognition flow through the Elders’ gaze all at once. Their countenance darkened, a collective shift from disdain to calculation. From seeing a frightened omega to seeing evidence laid bare before all.

Ruined goods.

That was the thought that slammed into the room like a verdict.

A controlled body. A compromised mind.

A weapon.

Dangerous.

My jaw tensed hard enough to ache as memories of every werewolf’s history rose unsolicited.

Betrayals.

The Alpha who laughed at warnings of the Elders and died with his Luna’s hands around his throat while enemies burned his pack to the ground. The vow had been the leash. The Luna the knife. GoldenMoon had enemies who prayed for such an opening and I had just brought one through our gates.

“No,” I said, voice cutting sharp through the chaos. Power bled into the word without my permission. “Enough.”

I stepped forward, placing myself between her bowed form and the semicircle of Elders. Something must have triggered her, and I realized now, it was the overwhelming presence of dominant pheromones pressing outward that caused it. She shuddered beneath it.

“She has been conditioned,” I continued. “That does not make her complicit.”

Morrek’s laugh was soft. Venomous.

“Conditioning is complicity when the leash is buried deep enough,” he said. “You brought potential ruin into this hall, Alpha. A controlled omega is not a victim. She is a liability, a bomb waiting to explode.”

“She is not a weapon,” I snapped.

“She is proof,” Morrek countered smoothly. “Proof that someone already owns the key to her loyalty. And that someone could be our very own enemy. And if we are blind enough to ignore that—”

“You are asking me to condemn her for surviving,” I growled.

“I am asking you,” Morrek said, eyes sharp and unblinking, “to choose the pack over sentiment.”

The hall held its breath.

Behind my feet, Phemelia trembled. I drew in a long breath.

“This is not sentimentality,” I said again, slower this time. “We do not execute people before a trial. I refuse to be barbaric.”

Morrek turned toward me fully then, the faint curl of his mouth suggesting patience worn thin. “And while we wait. For trial.” he said pointedly, “what if in that short frame of time the enemy acts? Are you try to say the dangerous omega is worth more than your pack?”

I didn’t look away from him. “Then we find out who did it.”

Silence stretched.

Heavy.

“The Sanctuary,” I continued. “We take her to the Healer’s Sanctuary. To Damina.”

Deep throated grumbles arose. Unease and reluctance playing amongst the Elders. They knew the place. a structure of stones shaped round like an arena. No open sky at its center.

“The seer cannot be deceived,” I added. “She will see what was done to her. Who did it. When.”

Morrek’s gaze sharpened “Or she confirms our fears.”

“Then we act with evidence,” I said. “Not like panicked chickens.” A flush rose in Morrek's cheeks at my retort. I turned to leave and they followed behind.

Morning had already broken by the time we crossed the doors of the hall outside, plush light glinting off every surface it caressed, washing the surroundings in clarity.

I took Phemelia’s hand before anyone else could think to stop me.

Her skin was cold. Trembling. But she didn’t pull away.

A growl stirred low in my chest as I felt her muscles relax in my palms. I laced my fingers through hers deliberately and felt her shiver.

“Touch her,” I said without turning, my voice thickening with the darkness it promised, “before she is vetted, and I will remind you who commands this pack.”

The threat was quiet. But loud enough to be heard by every Elder who walked behind me, a low roll of grumbles affirmed my speculations. They heard me loud and clear.

Good.

The Sanctuary loomed ahead, it’s perfect circular curve apparent by the way it rounded at the ends from where I approached. Hundreds of years had passed by and it was now a modern era, but the sanctuary remained the same, owing to the divine power passed on from generations, preserving it.

I channeled my wolf sight beyond the walls till I found her.

Damina.

When she turned, her eyes caught the light. Pure turquoise, unbroken by iris or shadow, glowing with otherworldly power. She held a dove in her arms by the time we reached her, its small body lay limp in her palms. She murmured something ancient…soft, rhythmic and light bled from her fingers in a slow, reverent glow. The bird shuddered once, twice, then jerked up, taking little steps till it flew out of her palms.

Only then did she acknowledge us.

Her eyes found us immediately, inquiring the reason for our arrival.

Morrek stepped forward before I could speak.

“Our Alpha heeded our pleas and brought us a Luna but she’s compromised,” he said, voice highlighting every targeted word with purpose. “Marked with a forbidden vow. Claimed by another…. whether in body or not. Whoever owns her owns a path into GoldenMoon. We demand you expose it.”

Phemelia flinched beside me. My grip tightened.

Damina didn’t look at Morrek. She held out a hand instead, beckoning Phemelia forward with quiet authority.

“The accused will be washed,” she said. Not a suggestion. A decree.

The bath lay within a circular stone enclosure, fed by water so clear it looked unreal. Spring-born, pouring from the cave behind it. The cave of the wolf gods. The waters hummed faintly as we drew nearer. I did not release Phemelia until Damina herself touched her wrist.

The chants began low. Old. Damina washed her slowly, reverently, as if unearthing something fragile. When it was done, she sent Phemelia to dress in her private chamber.

The moment the door closed, the Sanctuary seemed to exhale.

Damina turned back to us.

“She is not owned,” she said calmly.

Voices rose instantly in agitation.

“She spoke the vow!” Morrek snapped. “It does not exist without—”

“Silence,” Damina said, and the word cut.

She lifted her chin slightly. “The vow was implanted. Not by a mate. Not by a lover, but by an Elder.”

Silence thickened.

“A woman,” she continued. “Powerful. Faceless to me. The mark was placed upon her wolf while she slept as a child. She was no more than five, from what I could pick."

My chest tightened. Rage curled hot and violent beneath my skin.

“She can be healed,” Damina added. “With time. With treatment. The strength of the vow will decide the duration of healing.”

Morrek laughed harshly. “And we are to gamble leadership on duration?”

“You will not dismiss this,” I said, every word pressed flat with fury. “Not after that.”

“We cannot leave the pack to chance,” Morrek shot back.

Something in me went very still.

“Then don’t,” I said.

They turned as one. Surprised I was in agreement.

“I will wager my position,” I continued evenly. Hands in my pockets. “She will be my Luna. And if she brings ruin to this pack while I live, I will step down as Alpha.”

The words settled like thunder and deep gasps resonated through the space.