Moonlight spilled through the high windows, silvering the council hall's worn stone.
The crowd had gathered as ordered—elders, warriors, merchants, even children clinging to their parents' legs. No one wanted to miss what would be remembered for generations.
Aaron stood in chains at the center. Samantha beside him, her hands bound in silk instead of iron—her subtle protest that she was still, in her mind, above the rest.
Isabella stepped forward, the fire pit at her back casting her shadow long across the floor.
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“Tonight," she began, “we decide if Southport will keep the habits that brought us here, or if we will burn them out at the root."
Her gaze swept the hall, pinning each face. “Aaron, Alpha by the council's blessing, took a child from his mother's arms to serve a lie. Sama
