Chapter 7 – Pack’s Rejection
655 Words
The council hall smelled of smoke and iron, its tall stone pillars carved with the battles and bloodlines of Crescent Hollow. Elara had never stood in a place so vast, yet so suffocating. The semicircle of wolves sat in judgment, their stares cutting into her like sharpened blades.
She stood at the center beside Draven, but his towering presence was no shield against the hostility pressing in from every corner.
“This is madness,” one elder snarled, slamming his fist against the table. His silver hair gleamed in the torchlight, his wolf’s aura rolling through the hall. “The Alpha dares to bring a human into our circle? Do you wish to curse us all?”
Another elder rose, eyes glowing amber. “The Moon Goddess would never tie us to her kind. A human cannot lead wolves. Reject her before it’s too late.”
Their voices sparked others.
“She’s fragile. She’ll break.”
“She’ll bring ruin to us all.”
“We cannot follow a cursed Luna.”
The words crashed into Elara, suffocating her. Her chest tightened until she could hardly breathe. Every sneer, every whisper pressed like chains around her throat.
Draven’s aura flared, bursting through the hall like fire. The weight of it forced several wolves to bow their heads. His golden eyes swept across the room like a storm.
“She is my mate,” he declared, his voice low but thunderous. “The Goddess herself marked her. Question her, and you question me.”
For a moment, silence fell. But defiance still lingered in the air.
Selena glided forward, her presence commanding, her lips curling in a poisonous smile. “No one denies the mark, Alpha. But marks can be deceiving. The pack’s safety should not be gambled on a fragile human who doesn’t even carry a wolf.”
The crowd stirred at her words. Some nodded. Some muttered. The whispers swelled like a rising tide.
Elara’s stomach twisted. Fragile. Weak. Unworthy. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from breaking.
Draven’s voice dropped, darker than shadow. “Careful, Selena.”
But she only tilted her head, her eyes gleaming with malice. “If she cannot protect herself, how will she protect us? You risk everything for a bond that could destroy Crescent Hollow.”
The chamber buzzed louder. Wolves shifted uneasily, and Elara felt the weight of their resentment pressing harder.
An elder with a scar running down his cheek stood slowly, his voice rough with age but steady as steel. “Alpha, a Luna must earn her place. If she fails, the bond will not save her. Nor you.”
The judgment hung heavy in the air.
Draven’s aura thickened, crushing the space between them all. His voice cut through the noise, sharp and absolute. “I will not reject her. She is mine. And anyone who dares threaten her will face me.”
Gasps rippled across the hall. Some wolves bowed their heads in submission, but others stared at Elara with hatred burning brighter than ever.
As Draven led her out of the council chamber, whispers followed like daggers stabbing into her back.
“She doesn’t belong.”
“She’ll destroy us.”
“She is cursed.”
Her chest ached with every word, her breath unsteady.
“They hate me,” she whispered once they reached the corridor. Her voice trembled. “They’ll never accept me.”
Draven stopped abruptly. His hand closed around her wrist, his grip firm but not cruel. His eyes glowed fiercely, locking on hers.
“Then don’t beg for their acceptance,” he growled, his voice like thunder rolling through her bones. “Make them fear you.”
The bond flared, fire rushing through her veins at his words. Her fear clashed with something darker, fiercer — a spark she couldn’t name. For the first time, a voice deep inside whispered back: Maybe you can.
- Writer
