Lies in her lips

7

An uneasy hush fell over the war council as Alpha Andrei paused, letting the strategic reality sink in.

Elder Brandon, a grizzled werewolf with silver-streaked fur and scarred arms, leaned forward, resting his heavy palms on the mahogany table.

"Forgive me, Alpha, but a coalition takes time we do not have. Marcus’s blood-spies are already sniffing around our borders. If we harboring the surviving divine flames becomes public knowledge, the Sanguine Dynasty will march on our territory before we can even send a envoy to the Fairies."

"The elders' concern is valid," Luna Leona interjected gently, her green tiara shimmering in the hearthlight.

"Which is precisely why we must look beyond conventional warfare. The queen venus did not send us that prophecy merely as a warning of war—she sent it as a key."

Leona gestured to the ancient parchment laid beside the map. On it, the glowing golden script of the prophecy pulsed faintly in response to the presence of the four goddesses:

"When the sacred tree falls and night claims the sun, The four divine flames shall flee as one. Tracked by the leech, through shadow they tread, Till the Moon’s golden eyes mark the thread. Where the mist meets the wolf, the bond shall ignite— Together they rise, or fall to the night."

"The prophecy explicitly connects the fate of our pack to the awakening of the ancient bonds," Leona continued, her gaze shifting intentionally toward Demeter and Alexandra.

Demeter stiffened, his jaw tightening as his golden eyes reflexively sought out Alexandra across the table. Alexandra shifted uncomfortably under the sudden weight of the council's eyes, though she kept her chin held high.

"The 'mist' refers to Alexandra, and 'the wolf' is our Alpha," Elder Varis, the pack's record-keeper, murmured softly, stroking his long gray beard as he studied the verses.

"The ancient texts speak of a power multiplier—when a true mate-bond ignites between a divine lineage and an Alpha bloodline, it unleashes a protective barrier capable of concealing an entire territory from blood-magic tracking."

"So the bond isn't just a personal matter," Glaznia realized aloud, looking at her sister. "It's a defensive weapon."

"Precisely," Andrei confirmed, staring down the hesitant elders.

"If Demeter and Alexandra accept the bond, the Silvermoon Keep will be entirely invisible to Marcus's scrying pools. That buys us the time we need to march north and assemble the allied forces."

Demeter stood up, resting his hands on the map. "We don't force anything," he said firmly, his deep voice carrying through the hall as he looked straight at Alexandra.

"The bond will ignite naturally when the time is right. For now, our priority is securing the perimeter at dawn. Elders, prepare the warriors. Goddesses, rest while you can—tomorrow, the counteroffensive begins." Demeter said before dissmissing us.

As the heavy mahogany doors of the war council hall swung closed, the solemn weight of the meeting lingered in the quiet corridor outside.

The low hum of pack warriors making preparations down in the courtyard drifted through the high stone arches, a constant reminder of the coming storm.

Alexandra leaned her back against the cool river-stone wall, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. The phantom warmth of Demeter’s gaze still burned against her skin.

"Well," Denise murmured, resting her hands on the hilt of her twin daggers as she leaned against an adjacent pillar.

"That was a lot to take in before breakfast. Protective magic barriers, spatial runes, and a mandatory royal romance. My brain feels like it’s been trampled by a stampede of dire wolves." She mumbled.

"It's not a mandatory romance," Alexandra shot back instantly, though her cheeks flushed a light pink. "You heard Demeter. We aren't forcing anything."

"He called you 'the mist,' Alex," Aurora chimed in with a soft, playful smirk, stepping closer and nudging her sister’s shoulder.

"And the prophecy explicitly says 'the bond shall ignite'. Unless you plan on turning into actual fog and floating away, you’re stuck with him."

Glaznia stepped between them, her calm presence grounding the group. She looked at Alexandra, her blue eyes filled with genuine concern.

"Aurora's teasing aside, Alex... how are you holding up? Having an entire pack's defensive strategy placed on your shoulders isn't something anyone should bear lightly."

Alexandra let out a long, slow breath, her posture softening. She looked out the window toward the training grounds, where Demeter was currently surrounded by his high-ranking Beta officers.

Even from a distance, his presence was commanding, sharp, and undeniable.

"I don't mind fighting Marcus. I don't even mind marching to the Aethelgard Canopy to negotiate with the Fairies," Alexandra said softly, her voice carrying a rare note of vulnerability.

"It's just... the bond feels like a storm I can't control. Every time he gets near me, my magic reacts before I can even think. It’s terrifying." She said.

"It isn't a trap, Alex," Glaznia said gently, reaching out to wrap her fingers reassuringly around Alexandra's wrist. "Grandmother’s prophecy wasn't a sentence—it was a shield. Whatever happens between you and Demeter, you choose it on your own terms. We stand together first."

"Goddesses first, wolf boy second," Denise quoted, offering a brief, crooked smile.

A sudden heavy footstep echoed down the corridor, making all four sisters turn.

Alpha Demeter emerged from the side stairwell, his coat discarded, revealing the broad line of his shoulders beneath his dark tunic.

He stopped dead in his tracks as his golden eyes locked onto Alexandra, the air between them instantly snapping with a fine thread of static magic.

"Brooding in the hallways, Princesses?" Demeter asked, his deep voice smooth as he approached, stopping just outside Alexandra's personal bubble.

"Discussing battle tactics," Alexandra countered smoothly, raising her chin to meet his sharp gaze.

"Unless the Alpha requires a written invitation to let us walk through his hallway?"

Demeter’s lips twitched upward into a brief, lethal smirk.

"The hallway is yours. But the perimeter scout unit leaves in twenty minutes. If you want to see how a real pack guards its borders before we head north, keep up."

He held her gaze for one long, lingering pulse—the golden flecks in his eyes flaring like lit embers—before turning on his heel and striding toward the courtyard.

Alexandra stared at his retreating back, her heart hammering a tight, rapid rhythm against her ribs.

"You know," Denise drawled, breaking the silence as she patted Alexandra on the back, "for an insufferable brute, the man certainly knows how to make an exit."

Everyone groan at her.

“No need to emphasize demonise” glaznia snorted.