The Blood They Buried
559 Words
Aria Pov
The council chamber was carved from obsidian so dark it swallowed light.
I stood at its center, bare feet against cold stone, surrounded by a half-circle of thrones etched with sigils older than the packs I’d grown up fearing. The air felt heavy—like the room itself was watching me breathe.
Nyxara took the central seat.
The others filtered in silently. Five figures. Four men, one woman. Every single one of them radiated power that made my skin prickle.
“This is unnecessary,” I said tightly. “If you brought me here just to tell me I’m some lost royal—”
“You were erased,” interrupted the woman on Nyxara’s right.
Her voice was sharp as broken glass. Her hair was iron-gray, braided tight against her scalp. One eye was clouded white.
“Deliberately,” she continued. “Systematically.”
Nyxara nodded. “Tell her.”
The woman turned to me fully. “Your mother was Queen Elowen Nightborn.”
The name hit me like a forgotten dream.
Images flickered—silver laughter, a warm hand brushing my hair, a lullaby hummed in a language I didn’t know.
My knees weakened.
“She ruled before Nyxara,” the woman said. “A Queen whose power came not from dominance—but balance. She could command Alphas without bending them. Heal bonds. End wars.”
I swallowed hard. “Why have I never heard of her?”
“Because the Northern Realm made sure you wouldn’t,” one of the men growled.
He leaned forward, scars carving deep lines across his face. “Elowen refused to bind the Obsidian Court to the Alpha King’s bloodline. She foresaw what his descendants would become.”
Lucien’s face flashed unbidden in my mind.
Cold. Cruel. Absolute.
“The Northern Council branded her a threat,” Nyxara said quietly. “They orchestrated her assassination.”
My breath stuttered. “Assassination?”
“She escaped,” Nyxara corrected. “Barely. Pregnant. Dying.”
Silence stretched, thick and suffocating.
“She crossed into human lands,” Nyxara continued. “Bound your blood. Suppressed your wolf. Hid you where no Lycan would think to look.”
“And then?” My voice cracked.
“She returned to slow poison,” the scarred man said. “Northern magic. Untraceable. She died before she could come back for you.”
Something inside my chest screamed.
“They let me believe I was nothing,” I whispered.
“They needed you small,” the woman said. “Because Nightborn Queens are not claimed.”
Nyxara’s gaze locked onto mine.
“They are obeyed.”
The room seemed to tilt.
“And the Alpha King?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
Nyxara’s lips pressed into a thin line. “His bloodline swore an oath generations ago to destroy yours if it ever resurfaced.”
Ice spread through my veins.
“So the Moon—”
“Is older than oaths,” Nyxara finished. “And cruel in her sense of justice.”
The truth settled heavily in my bones.
Lucien had not just rejected me.
He had fulfilled a lie taught to him since birth.
Nyxara rose from her throne. “You were never meant to kneel at his side, Aria.”
She stepped closer.
“You were meant to stand opposite him.”
- Writer
