The summons arrived with the dawn — a white-gold envelope bearing the sigil of the High Council: three crescent moons joined in a trinity, etched in silver wax that shimmered with enchantment. It rested on the black marble floor of the penthouse foyer, as if dropped by a ghost.
Elara found it first. Barefoot, still in her robe, her steps halted at the sight. Something about the envelope's presence stirred her blood — the mark on her collarbone throbbed faintly, a whisper of warning. She bent to pick it up, the seal cold against her fingers.
"Dominic!" she called out.
He was already stepping out of the study, buttoning a black shirt, his jaw set. He saw the envelope in her hand and his eyes narrowed with dread.
"They didn't waste time," he said grimly.
"The Council must've felt the rogue's death."
"You think they tracked it through your magic?"
"No," Dominic replied, taking the envelope and breaking the seal. "Through yours."
He read the contents in silence, his expression darkening with every line. Elara watched his features shift — from concern to calculation to controlled fury.
"They're calling us in," he said finally, folding the parchment. "Tonight."
"For what?"
"A test. They want to prove our bond is real — or dissolve the marriage by force."
Her stomach twisted. "What happens if they think it's fake?"
He didn't answer.
"Dominic."
"They'll strip me of my title. Sever the Alpha tie to my bloodline. And you…"
Elara's throat tightened. "And me?"
"They'll bind your magic. Or worse — cage it."
The silence stretched between them.
"You said I'm moon-born," she murmured. "They'll see that, won't they?"
"If they test your blood, yes."
Elara walked past him to the balcony, gripping the stone rail as if the sky might offer answers. "Then we lie. We pass their tests."
He came beside her. "It's not just physical tests. The Council uses dreamwalkers. Seers. Pain-weavers. They'll tear through our minds and memories."
"Then give them something to see," she said. "Show them the bond."
"You can't fake fate, Elara."
"I'm not faking. The mark is real. The feelings..." She paused, her voice low. "They're becoming real."
Dominic didn't speak for a long moment. Then: "We need to prepare."
The Chamber of Judgment was carved into the heart of the Northern Cliffs, half-buried in stone and magic. It was not built — it had been summoned, centuries ago, by the founding Alphas. Walls of silver-veined obsidian rose in a dome, echoing moonlight even in darkness. No technology touched this place. No lies lasted long here.
Elara's breath caught as they stepped into the sacred hall. Cloaked figures flanked the edges — representatives of the nine ruling packs, each bearing the scent of old power. At the center, a circular dais of bone-white marble. Upon it sat the three Elders of the High Council.
"Alpha Dominic Thorn," the central Elder boomed, his voice unnaturally deep, resonant. "And mate, Elara Moonborn."
She flinched at the name. How did they already know?
Dominic stepped forward with practiced grace, Elara beside him.
"We are summoned to affirm your union," the Elder said. "You will be tested. Mind, blood, and bond."
"We are prepared," Dominic said.
Elara's heart pounded.
A woman in scarlet stepped forward — a Pain-weaver. She held a thin silver blade, no longer than a knitting needle. "The first test is of blood."
Elara swallowed.
The blade flashed.
Pain bloomed at her fingertip, and blood beaded in the air. The weaver caught it in a floating orb and muttered words in an ancient tongue.
The blood glowed.
Whispers rippled around the chamber.
"Confirmed," the Pain-weaver said. "Moon-touched."
Elara's chest constricted.
The Elder raised a hand. "Rare. Dangerous. Not mated before."
Dominic stepped forward. "She is my mate now. By the Luna Clause."
"Words mean nothing without bond."
The second test began — a dreamlink.
A seer approached them, blindfolded, carrying two moonstones laced with memory threads. She pressed one to Dominic's forehead. One to Elara's.
"Close your eyes," she said. "Let your thoughts touch."
Elara's mind surged forward — toward the mark, toward the truth. She thought of Dominic's arms around her when the rogue struck. Of his trembling confession. His voice whispering, "Let me help you find out who you are."
She thought of her own confusion. The pain. The pull.
Dominic's thoughts met hers.
She felt his memory of the first moment he saw her — not when they met, but months before, watching from a distance, drawn by the strange fire in her aura.
She saw his desperation. His fear. His guilt. And his quiet hope.
The dreamlink snapped.
The seer stumbled back, sweat pouring from her brow.
"The bond is... layered," she gasped. "It was not forged by lies — but by crisis. The threads are tangled. Healing. Growing. It is... incomplete. But real."
More whispers. Concern. Fear.
The final test was the hardest.
An Elder stepped forward and placed his hand over Elara's chest.
"Do you love him?" he asked.
The question landed like a thunderclap.
"I... don't know," Elara said honestly.
The Elder frowned.
"But I will protect him. I will not leave. And I feel something between us I can't explain."
The Elder turned to Dominic. "And you?"
Dominic didn't hesitate. "I will bleed for her.
Kill for her. Die for her, if I must."
The Elder studied them.
"Then the bond is forming," he said. "But beware."
He turned his eyes — glowing silver — on Elara.
"You are moon-born. Such power comes with price. Should you betray the bond, your curse will awaken fully — and all within your reach will suffer."
Elara's lips parted. "What curse?"
But the Council was already receding into the shadows.
The Elder's final words echoed:
"You are granted one lunar cycle.
Strengthen the bond. Seal the mating with truth — or face judgment."
The chamber dissolved behind them.
They returned to the penthouse in silence. The city's glow seemed distant, like another world.
Dominic poured himself a drink. Elara stared at her hand, where the blood had glowed.
"I didn't lie," she said finally. "I don't know if I love you. But I feel... bound. Not just by mark or contract. But by fate."
Dominic turned to her. "We have one month. If the bond doesn't mature, the Council will revoke everything."
"And the curse?"
He walked to her, placing a hand over her heart.
"That's what we need to discover. Before it discovers you."
She exhaled. "What now?"
"We play their game. We get stronger. And we find out who you really are."
Elara nodded. "Together?"
Dominic's gaze met hers. "Always."
Outside, the moon watched in silence, her light a promise — and a warning.
Far away, something stirred beneath the ice of the Northern Cliffs. Watching. Waiting.
Hungering for war.