Chapter 7 : The Breaking of Wolves
754 Words
**Chapter Seven : The Breaking of Wolves**
They came before dawn.
Not guards.
Not elders.
Judges.
Aeloria felt them before the door opened—the air thickening, the bond between her and Kael tightening like a noose. His breath hitched beside her, his body going rigid as if every instinct screamed at once.
“This is it,” he murmured.
The stone door groaned open.
Lyra entered first, draped in dark ceremonial robes, silver markings painted across her throat and wrists. Behind her came five Alphas from rival packs—their power oppressive, their eyes cruelly curious.
Aeloria stood tall despite the chains around her wrists.
Kael stepped in front of her without thinking.
Lyra smiled. “How predictable.”
One Alpha circled them slowly. “So this is the Golden Blood. She looks… breakable.”
Aeloria met his gaze. “So do tyrants.”
His laugh was short and ugly.
Lyra raised a hand. “Enough. We are not here to admire her.”
She turned to Kael. “You broke containment. You defied the Council. And you touched what was forbidden.”
Kael didn’t deny it. “I would do it again.”
A ripple of unease passed through the Alphas.
“That,” Lyra said softly, “is the problem.”
She nodded.
The runes ignited.
Kael screamed.
Silver lightning tore through his body, slamming him to his knees. Aeloria cried out, lunging toward him—but her chains yanked tight, biting into her skin as golden light flared uselessly beneath them.
“Stop!” she screamed. “I’ll submit—anything—just stop!”
Lyra leaned close, voice a whisper meant only for her. “You already did. The moment you loved him.”
Kael coughed, blood splattering the stone. Still, he lifted his head, eyes blazing.
“Don’t look at her,” one Alpha snarled. “Break the bond.”
Aeloria’s heart stopped.
Lyra nodded. “Begin.”
The pain hit her like a blade driven straight into her chest.
Not physical.
Worse.
The bond screamed as ancient magic wrapped around it, pulling, twisting, unraveling threads that had barely formed. Aeloria collapsed, gasping, her vision blurring as memories tore loose—
Kael carrying her through fire.
Kael kneeling before her.
Kael whispering her name like prayer.
She screamed his name as it ripped away.
Kael roared—a sound of pure agony and fury—as chains slammed around his limbs, dragging him backward.
“No!” Aeloria sobbed. “You can’t take him from me!”
Lyra’s eyes were cold. “We already have.”
The floor split.
Kael was pulled down into darkness, his fingers scraping stone, reaching—
“Aeloria!”
The void swallowed him whole.
Silence fell like a grave.
They left her there.
Broken.
Chained.
Alone.
Time passed strangely after that—measured not in hours, but in pain. Guards came and went. Food appeared untouched. Her power dulled, the golden glow dimmed, suffocated by runes designed to weaken—not kill.
They wanted her obedient.
She dreamed of Kael screaming.
She woke biting back her own.
Far beneath the mountain, Kael hung suspended in iron and spellwork, his wounds never allowed to fully heal. Every breath burned. Every thought was torture.
They showed him visions.
Aeloria kneeling.
Aeloria crowned by others.
Aeloria standing beside another Alpha.
“Choose,” Lyra’s voice echoed through the chamber. “Renounce her—and live.”
Kael laughed weakly. “I already chose.”
The punishment was merciless.
But he did not break.
On the seventh night, the Moon bled red.
Aeloria felt it.
Her head snapped up as something ancient shifted—not gentle this time. Not patient.
Feral.
The Golden Blood did not beg.
It answered.
The chains around her wrists melted.
Not snapped.
Melted.
The runes screamed as golden fire poured through the chamber, scorching stone, shattering spells laid by generations of wolves.
Aeloria rose slowly, eyes glowing molten gold.
“Enough,” she said.
The walls cracked.
Across the realm, wolves dropped to their knees—not in reverence.
In terror.
Far below, Kael felt the chains loosen.
He smiled through bloodied teeth.
“She’s coming,” he whispered.
Lyra stood at the edge of the collapsing hall, fury finally breaking through her control.
“You will doom us all!” she shouted.
Aeloria stepped forward, power roaring unchecked. “You already did.”
The mountain shook.
The packs would soon choose sides.
And this time—
There would be no mercy.
- Writer
