LUNA ELARA

Chapter Seven

Elara stood frozen, her pulse pounding in her ears. The man she’d come to trust, who had trained her, shielded her, who never once demanded loyalty in exchange — Dorian — was standing on the grand stage beneath the flickering torches and ancient tapestries… and they were calling him the new Lycan King.

For a moment, she questioned if she’d imagined it, but no — there he was, dressed in ceremonial black, a silver insignia pinned to his chest. His gaze swept across the gathered crowd, sharp and unreadable… until it landed on her.

And for a heartbeat, something flickered in those storm-gray eyes. Not coldness. Not command. Something else.

"Thank you all for coming," Dorian began, his voice steady, carrying over the crowd like a tide. "As your new Lycan King, I intend to reshape our laws, our allegiances, and our futures. And to do that…" he paused, "I’ll need someone by my side."

Elara’s stomach twisted. No — he couldn’t mean—

"Mira," he called, using the false name she’d adopted when she entered the capital.

The hall fell into a charged hush. Dozens of eyes turned in her direction. Faces both familiar and dangerous. And there, across the room, stood Kaelen and Lyra — the mate who cast her aside and the woman who once gloated over her disgrace — their expressions twisting in shock.

Somehow, Elara’s legs carried her forward. She ascended the stage steps, Dorian’s hand reaching out to steady her. His touch was familiar… but now it felt heavier. Weightier. His fingers brushed against hers, a silent reassurance no one else could detect.

"This woman," Dorian announced, "has proven herself loyal, resilient, and unbreakable in the face of betrayal. From this moment, she shall serve as my Royal Advisor."

A wave of gasps rippled through the crowd. Elara could almost feel the shock settling over the hall like a suffocating mist.

Royal Advisor.

Her?

She barely heard the rest of his speech — something about new reforms, justice for the outcast and discarded — her mind reeled, barely keeping pace.

Then her gaze locked with Kaelen’s. His face had drained of color. Lyra’s lips parted as though to speak, but no words came.

They knew.

The charade was over.

And Elara? She was no longer a forgotten Luna.

Dorian’s fingers squeezed hers once more, bringing her back.

"Ready to change the world?" he murmured, for her ears alone.

A fierce heat ignited in her chest. She straightened her back, lifting her chin. "I was born ready."

The ceremony ended with a chorus of howls and murmuring voices. As the crowd dispersed, Dorian led her through a corridor away from prying eyes.

Behind the safety of a locked door, Elara spun on him. "You lied to me." Her voice didn’t tremble — it was steel.

Dorian’s gaze softened, though the edge of command never left his features. "I had to, Elara. I needed to know you were with me for who I am — not for the title."

She inhaled, warring with a strange mixture of betrayal and understanding.

"And now?" she asked.

A faint smile touched his lips. "Now, we take back what they tried to bury. We burn down the world they built to trap us. Together."

Elara exhaled, a slow, sharp smile spreading across her face. "Then let’s begin."

The next moments passed in a blur. Faces stared as she moved through the hall, whispers trailing in her wake.

Just as she reached the hallway leading to the restrooms, a hand clamped around her arm. She turned, finding Kaelen.

His face was a storm of fury, disbelief, and — beneath it — a flicker of fear.

"What do you think you’re doing?" he hissed.

Elara didn't flinch. "Claiming my place. The one you told me I’d never have."

Kaelen sneered. "A barren castoff like you, standing beside the Lycan King? It’s a joke."

Once, those words would’ve shattered her. Now they barely scratched her armor.

Elara leaned in, her voice silk over steel. "You should be afraid, Kaelen. You don’t know what I am now. But you will."

She tried to pull away, but his grip tightened — and then, he stiffened. His eyes widened.

"Your eyes," he whispered. "They're… glowing."

Confused, Elara caught her reflection in a nearby mirror. Silver light shimmered in her irises, ethereal and inhuman.

She blinked. The glow vanished.

Turning back to him, her voice dropped into a cold, final command.

"Stay away from me."

Without waiting for a reply, she walked away, her footsteps steady, a new power thrumming beneath her skin.

And for the first time in her life, Elara wasn’t the hunted. She was the storm coming for them all.