Chapter 69: The Verdict of the Moon
The clearing was a blur of silver and grey fur. Silas fought with the precision of a trained leader, but Valerius was a force of nature—raw, primal, and fueled by centuries of injustice. Every time Silas lunged, Valerius seemed to anticipate his move, his crimson eyes never losing their terrifying calm.
"Is this all the Council taught you?" Valerius's voice echoed through the mind-link, cold and mocking. "To fight for a throne built on corpses?"
Silas roared, his claws grazing Valerius's shoulder, but the ancient Alpha didn't even flinch. Instead, he pinned Silas to the ground with a strength that felt like a mountain collapsing. The pack watched in horror, expecting the killing blow.
"Wait!" Elara stepped into the center of the circle, her silver light erupting with such intensity that both wolves were forced to shift back into their human forms.
She stood between them, her gaze fixing on Silas. "This isn't just about who is stronger, Silas. Look at the sky!"
The clouds parted, and a beam of pure, white moonlight descended directly upon Elara and Valerius, ignoring Silas entirely. The pack gasped. The Moon Goddess wasn't just watching; she was choosing. The light began to reveal the dark shadows surrounding the Council elders standing on the sidelines—their faces contorted in a magic that smelled of rot.
"They used you, Silas," Elara whispered, her voice filled with a painful clarity. "They poisoned your mind so you would break our bond, all to keep the First-Born's bloodline from returning. The redemption isn't just mine to earn—it's yours to choose."
Silas looked from the glowing Elara to the scarred Valerius, and finally to the trembling Council members. The veil of lies finally shattered. He dropped his head, not in defeat, but in submission to the truth.
"The moon has spoken," Silas announced, his voice trembling with emotion. "The throne was never mine. It was a cage."