CHAPTER 93
1721 Words
Becky’s smile grew even wider.
By morning, the weight of her manipulation had already begun to move. Rumors hardened into truth, whispers into declarations. And miles away from the restless village and Kai’s sleepless rage, Elise sat in silence, the stone walls around her colder than death itself.
Her cell had no windows. Only a single slit near the ceiling, where weak daylight filtered through like dust. The air smelled of damp rock and dried blood. She hadn’t moved much in hours — not since they’d dragged her back from the healer’s quarters after her injuries had been “treated.”
Her wrists ached from the chains. Her throat felt raw from silence.
It was easier not to speak anymore. Words had only ever been used against her.
Elise leaned her head back against the wall, eyes fixed on the ceiling. Every time she closed them, Kai’s face appeared. His eyes — once full of warmth — now burned in her memory with anger she couldn’t understand.
She tried to remember the last time he’d smiled at her without suspicion. The night by the river. The way he’d laughed when she pushed him into the water, pretending not to care that he was the Alpha, that people might see. He’d grabbed her and pulled her in too, both of them drenched and breathless, and she had thought — this is home.
Now that memory felt like someone else’s life.
The bond between them, even broken, still flickered under her skin like a dying flame. Every so often, she’d feel it — a sharp pull, a rush of something that wasn’t quite pain but close enough. Maybe he was angry. Maybe he was just alive. Either way, the reminder that he still existed out there while she rotted here made her chest tighten until she could barely breathe.
The heavy door clanked. Metal scraped against stone.
“Elise Bael,” a voice announced. Male. Cold. “The Council summons you.”
She lifted her head slowly. The guards didn’t wait for her to stand on her own. Two of them entered, each grabbing an arm and hauling her upright. Her feet dragged against the floor as they marched her down the corridor.
The last time she’d been in the Council chamber, Kai had been beside her. He’d stood so close their hands brushed — and she’d taken comfort in that, certain it meant protection. Now, as she was shoved through the doors, she saw the same long table, the same gilded chairs, the same carved crest of Archview on the wall… but no comfort.
The Council of Elders sat in silence, six of them, their faces carved with disapproval. Lucien sat among them, expression unreadable. Kion leaned forward, his eyes already sharp with hostility.
The chains around Elise’s wrists rattled as she was forced to kneel on the marble floor.
Kion was the first to speak. “Elise Bael,” he said, his tone clipped, official. “You stand accused of treason against the Alpha and the pack of Archview. You are accused of conspiring with outside clans, of manipulating the Alpha’s judgment, and of concealing knowledge of attacks against this Council. Do you deny these charges?”
Elise’s lips parted, but for a moment, no sound came out. Her throat felt like sandpaper.
“I never conspired against Archview,” she said finally. Her voice was hoarse but steady. “I’ve done nothing but protect this pack — and him.”
“Protect?” Kion’s laugh was bitter. “By lying? By seducing the Alpha and clouding his reason?”
Her heart pounded. “That’s not—”
“Enough.” An elder woman raised her hand. Her voice was soft but cutting. “We’ve heard the witnesses. The evidence speaks clearly. Your words mean nothing.”
“What evidence?” Elise demanded, her control breaking. “You’ve shown me nothing. You’ve only repeated what others have said. Tell me, who stands as witness? Who accuses me?”
A murmur rippled through the Council. Kion smirked. “You know who. Luka of the Eastern Border. His testimony was clear. You were seen with foreign scouts. You sent messages through the black markets.”
“That’s a lie!”
“Watch your tone!” Kion snapped. “You stand in judgment, not command!”
The guard behind her slammed the butt of his spear against the floor, warning her to stay still.
Elise swallowed hard, the anger in her chest warring with the despair pressing down on her. “I never betrayed Kai,” she said quietly, her voice shaking. “I loved him. You all know that. If I wanted to destroy Archview, I wouldn’t have saved him during the raid. I wouldn’t have—”
“You wouldn’t have what?” Kion interrupted. “You wouldn’t have fooled him into rejecting his own pack? You wouldn’t have twisted him until he made himself weak before us?”
Elise’s eyes burned. “You think love is weakness. You’ve forgotten what loyalty even means.”
“Enough,” the elder woman said again. “We are not here to debate love.”
The chamber fell silent. The only sound was the faint hum of torches burning against the walls. Elise could feel eyes on her from every direction. Some cold. Some uncertain.
Lucien was the only one who looked away. His jaw clenched, his fingers twitching slightly against the table.
He didn’t speak, but she saw it — the hesitation.
“You have nothing more to say for yourself?” the eldest councilman asked.
Elise hesitated. Then she lifted her head. “Only that you’re wrong. And one day, when you realize that, it’ll be too late to undo what you’re doing now.”
The room went still.
Kion slammed his palm on the table. “Arrogant until the end.”
“Enough!” another elder barked, his patience fraying. “This session is adjourned until the Alpha’s final decision.”
Her blood ran cold. Kai.
He hadn’t spoken to her. Hadn’t seen her. But his decision would seal her fate.
The guards yanked her to her feet again. As they turned her to leave, a voice rang out across the chamber.
“Wait.”
The sound froze everyone in place.
Thea stood near the door — she must have slipped in during the interrogation. Her eyes were wide but determined, her posture trembling with anger.
“This isn’t justice,” she said, stepping forward. “You’re twisting her words. You’re twisting everything.”
Kion’s eyes darkened. “You are out of line, Omega.”
“Then punish me,” she snapped. “But don’t stand here and pretend she’s guilty when all you’ve got are rumors.”
“Thea—” Elise whispered, shaking her head, pleading silently for her to stop.
But Thea didn’t stop. “You all talk about loyalty and honor, but where were you when she risked her life for the pack? When she saved Kai from the ambush? None of you saw that, did you? Because you were hiding in your chambers while she bled for him!”
“Thea!” Kion roared, slamming his fist on the table. “You will hold your tongue or I will see you punished for insubordination!”
Lucien’s hand twitched again, but he didn’t intervene. His eyes flicked briefly toward Elise, then away, as if he couldn’t stand to watch what was happening.
Thea’s voice cracked. “You’re cowards.”
“Enough!” Kion’s command thundered across the room. “Guards, remove her!”
Two soldiers moved toward Thea, grabbing her by the arms. She struggled, shouting Elise’s name. Elise twisted against her chains, trying to reach her, but the guards held firm.
“Thea, stop!” Elise cried.
But Thea’s voice didn’t stop echoing as they dragged her away — “She’s innocent! You know she’s innocent!”
When the doors slammed shut behind her, the silence that followed felt like a grave closing.
Elise stood motionless. Her chest felt hollow, the sound of her friend’s voice still trembling in the air.
Kion turned to the council. “Let this be a lesson about the danger of sentiment.”
Lucien’s chair scraped softly against the floor as he stood. “A lesson?” he asked quietly. “Or a warning?”
Kion’s eyes narrowed. “What are you implying?”
Lucien’s gaze lingered on Elise. For a brief second, his usual calm broke — something uncertain, something human flickered there. But then he straightened. “Nothing,” he said. “Nothing at all.”
He walked out before anyone could respond.
The guards dragged Elise back to her cell. Her body ached, but her mind hurt worse. Thea’s words had been brave — stupid, maybe, but brave. And Kai… he hadn’t come.
She sank to the floor once they threw her inside, her wrists raw from the metal cuffs. She stared at the dark corner of the room, her breath uneven.
She tried not to think of him — but the memory forced itself in anyway. His voice. His warmth. The way he used to trace her scars with his thumb and say, You survived worse than me, didn’t you?
She’d thought that meant he understood her. That they could heal each other.
Now, the same bond that once made her feel whole burned like a curse under her skin.
Her chest tightened, and she pressed a trembling hand against her heart. For a moment, she could swear she felt him — far away, angry, restless. The connection still pulsed faintly, the echo of something that refused to die.
Her tears came silently this time.
Hours passed. The torches outside the cell flickered lower.
Then — footsteps.
Not the steady march of guards, but slower. Quieter.
The latch turned. The iron door creaked open.
Elise lifted her head, the shadows shifting across her face.
A tall figure stepped inside.
The torchlight caught his insignia — gold, burned into black fabric.
Her stomach twisted.
The man lowered his hood, his eyes sharp and cold as he looked at her.
“The Council has reached its conclusion,” he said quietly.
Elise’s breath caught. “What… what conclusion?”
He hesitated. Then:
“The Alpha has made his decision.”
- Writer
