CHAPTER 45
1239 Words
The council room smelled like unresolved conflicts and unrest.
Chairs made scrapping sounds against the floor as elders filed in one by one, tension resting heavily on every shoulder.
For once, even the guards posted at the doors exchanged uneasy glances.
Something had shifted in the air over the past few days, something colder than fear.
Elise stood to the side of the room with Kai beside her, arms folded tight across her chest.
She wasn’t here by invitation, she’d never been in that room by invitation.
But Kai made it clear to the guards: if the council wanted to talk about the threat, then the one person who had faced it firsthand would be in the room.
Still, it didn’t feel like enough.
Elder Harun’s voice echoed through the room. “Let us begin.”
Elise scanned the circle.
Elder Mena looked worn.
Elder Kion, stiff.
Others wore expressions carved from stone.
And sitting quietly near the edge, her face unreadable and lips pressed together, was Aunt Thea.
Her only family. Elise wondered if she’d take her side or the council’s side today.
Most probably, the former.
“We’ve reviewed the attacks over the past week,” Mena began, sliding a stack of parchment forward. “Twelve dead. Seven wounded. Border packs are pulling back, refusing to send reinforcements.”
Kion added, “They fear the curse will spread.”
“The symbols are spreading,” someone muttered. “And getting clearer.”
“And that’s exactly why we must act,” said Harun. “Not by chasing ghosts—but by doing what our ancestors always did when the world shifted.”
He turned to the others. “We wait for the Moonbreather.”
A stunned silence fell.
Elise blinked. “You wait?”
Harun didn’t even look her way. “The prophecies foretold a savior born with the mark of the moon, a true Moonbreather. One who will unite the packs and lead us through darkness.”
Kai’s brows furrowed. “And what do you think Elise is?”
There was an awkward pause.
Then, slowly—coldly—Aunt Thea stood.
Her voice was clear.
“She is not a Moonbreather.” it echoed through the room.
Elise froze.
The room did too.
Thea’s gaze didn’t soften, not even for a moment. “What Elise is… is confused. Traumatized, maybe. But not chosen. Not by the moon. Not by prophecy.”
“Elise is the only one who survived the mark and lived,” Kai shot back. “She’s the only one who’s ever glowed with that kind of power, who’s ever—”
“She’s a girl who has suffered,” Thea interrupted, louder now. “And who wanted so badly to matter that she convinced herself she was special.”
Elise felt something inside her c***k.
Aunt Thea stepped into the center of the room. “When the prophecy speaks of the Moonbreather, it speaks of a leader, speaks of someone with unimaginable strength. Not someone who loses control and wakes up without remembering what she did. Not someone whose power flares and then vanishes.”
“She burned through half the trial chamber trying to save a child,” Kai growled. “She stood between this pack and a rogue army with nothing but a broken voice and a bleeding heart.”
“And what did that achieve?” Thea asked coldly. “What has Elise done since then—except falter?”
Elise’s breath stuttered.
She tried to speak.
To defend herself.
But the words jammed in her throat.
She looked around. No one spoke for her.
Not Elder Mena.
Not Kion.
Not anyone.
Only Kai stood close, jaw clenched in silent fury.
Thea continued, facing the entire council now. “We were too quick to believe a miracle had arrived. Too quick to hang our survival on a girl who was just as lost as we were.”
“She risked her life,” Kai said again, stepping forward.
“And I loved her,” Thea said, her voice trembling slightly. “I raised her. I hoped she was the one. But I will not let hope become delusion. Not when our people are dying.”
That broke Elise.
Not the lies.
Not the rejection.
The past tense.
“I loved her.”
Even that past tense was a lie.
She hadn’t even realized she’d taken a step back until her shoulder brushed the wall.
They weren’t just stripping her of the title.
They were erasing her.
Harun nodded slowly, folding his hands. “The council will move forward with preparations to manage the threat—until the true Moonbreather reveals themselves.”
Elder Mena looked uncertain, but she didn’t argue.
Kion just looked away.
The final nail in the coffin came with Thea’s last words.
“I will no longer speak in Elise’s defense. She does not represent the prophecy. She does not represent this pack.”
Elise walked out.
She didn’t wait for Kai.
Didn’t wait for anyone.
She walked fast, the burn behind her eyes building too quickly to blink away.
And this time, when she passed warriors in the hallway, they didn’t just ignore her.
They stepped aside like she was something contagious.
Later That Night,
Elise sat behind the old greenhouse, knees drawn to her chest, her fingers clenched around a fistful of broken grass.
She didn’t cry.
There were no tears left to give to people who turned their backs the moment she stopped glowing.
Her chest ached.
A soft sound broke the silence.
Kai.
He approached slowly, lowering himself beside her, silent for a while.
“I tried to stop them,” he said.
Elise didn’t respond.
“She doesn’t mean it,” he added after a while. “Your aunt. She’s scared. Everyone is.”
“You saw her face,” Elise whispered, voice hollow. “She meant every word.”
Kai’s jaw tightened. “She’s wrong.”
“I don’t think she is.”
He turned sharply to look at her.
Elise wasn’t crying.
She was staring at her hand. At the faint scar left from the trial. At where the glow had once been.
“What if I imagined all of it?” she said. “What if I made it up because I didn’t want to be worthless anymore?”
Kai reached over and gently turned her face toward him.
“You were never worthless. Not once. You didn’t imagine what I saw,” he said softly. “What I felt when I touched your skin and it burned with light. What the air did around you when you screamed and the mountain shook. That was real, Elise. Even if no one else wants to remember it.”
“But it’s gone.”
“For now,” he said. “But so is the sun at night. Doesn’t mean it stopped being real.”
She looked away.
“I’m tired, Kai,” she whispered. “Tired of trying to prove I deserve to exist.”
“You don’t have to prove anything to them,” he said. “Just stay alive. Stay strong. Because they’ve already made their choice—and you’re not part of it anymore.”
Elise looked at him. “And you? Have you made yours?”
He didn’t answer right away.
Then he said, “I’ll follow you. Even if no one else does.”
- Writer
