The crown sat heavy on my brow, and I wanted it that way.
Let them feel its weight. Let them remember who they were dealing with.
The council chamber was packed once again–Elders seated in their gilded semicircle, nobles and Pack representatives pressed into every corner of the gallery.
Even the remaining candidates sat near the front, dressed like this was still a performance. As if their smiles could buy them my affection.
They were wrong.
I didn’t wait to be introduced or announced. I had called the assembly this time. I let the mock inquisition finish before immediately surrounding the chamber with warriors and calling a full assembly.
I descended the steps in silence, each footfall echoing sharp against the stone. The guards parted at the base of the dais. Ronan stood nearby, arms folded, jaw locked. He knew what I intended.
I took my place at the center of the chamber, not on the raised throne behind me, but in the open. Grounded. Present. Not hiding behind protocol.
The room quieted on instinct as I let my power fill the room.
“Before this Council,” I said, voice steady, “a claim was made that a mark found on one of the finalists was evidence of betrayal.”
A few of the nobles tensed. One of the girls in the front row shifted uncomfortably, her eyes darting to Ronan. The Elders sat like carved stone–trying to look impartial, when I could still see the fear behind their eyes.
“That mark,” I continued, “was neither hidden… nor regretted.”
I let the silence sharpen.
“It was placed by me.”
Gasps rippled through the crowd like cracks in a frozen lake. A low sound–shock, discomfort–rattled the edges of the room.
I stood tall and proud.
“She bears my mark,” I said, louder now, “because I chose her. Not yesterday. Not last week. Long before the final trial. Before the last cut.”
The statement wasn’t drawn out, it was surgical. And it hit like the blade I intended.
A few nobles glanced at one another. I saw one Jackson’s mouth twitch, as if they wanted to object–but none dared interrupt.
“I chose her,” I said again slower. “Because I knew what I wanted. I judged the others. I followed tradition–until it became a mask for something else. Jealousy. Power plays. Cowardice.”
I turned my head deliberately, letting my gaze sweep the chamber. The weight of my stare landed on one Pack delegate after another. Some blinked. A few bowed their heads.
“Tradition,” I said, “does not supersede truth.”
My voice didn’t rise. It didn’t need to. The silence that followed was a match to my fury.
“You called her deceptive,” I went on. “You questioned her strength. You humiliated her. And while I was gone, you locked her in chains.” My voice dipped lower. “All while ignoring the one fact that should have silenced the entire argument from the start.”
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Chapter 98
I stepped forward, pausing just short of the Elders‘ line. The tension shifted. Harder now. No longer confusion—this was pure fear.
“You don’t need to like it,” I said. “But you will respect it.”
I met each of their eyes, one be one.
“This isn’t about the process anymore. This is about precedent. And I am not here to defend myself. I am here to correct your mistake.”
I lifted my chin slightly, letting the firelight catch the edge of the crown as I stood tall.
“She bears my mark,” I said one last time, “because I. Choose. Her.”
I didn’t soften the truth. I didn’t dress it in diplomacy. I dared them to argue. And they didn’t. They sat, stone–faced and silent, caught between scandal and consequence.
Exactly where I wanted them.
The silence held, stretched tight like a blade between us all. No one spoke. No one moved.
I stood in the center of the chamber, letting the truth settle like dust after battle. It clung to their silks and titles. Made them squirm in their seats.
I could see it in their eyes–some already calculating how to spin this, how to salvage their reputations. Others sat in rigid denial. And a few… a few looked genuinely stunned.
As if they’d truly believed I would let them decide for me.
Slowly, I turned to face the rows of candidates seated near the front. Their postures had stiffened. Some stared at the floor. Another girl’s lip trembled like she might cry.
Only one pair of eyes was missing… Nora’s.
“This selection was meant to uphold legacy,” I said, voice steady. “To honor the traditions of our people and offer a rightful Luna the chance to rise by
merit.”
I turned my body to face the Elders now, “But what began as legacy became theater. What began as tradition became cruelty. Politics. Weakness disguised as ceremony.”
Jackson flinched, just slightly.
“I will not continue to condone a process weighted with rot,” I said. “I will not ask my mate to.”
A few people stirred at that–one audible intake of breath from the upper rows. I heard someone whisper “mate” like it was profanity.
“I am ending the selection process,” I continued. “Effective immediately.”
Gasps this time. Not everyone tried to hide them.
“There will be no final trial. No final votes. No false pageantry to mask what’s already been decided.”
A noble near the wall stood abruptly. “With all due respect-”
I didn’t look at him. “Sit.”
He sat.
I walked slowly up the three stairs to the upper platform, but I didn’t take the throne. I stood at the front of it, so they could all see me clearly.
“She has endured more than any of you,” said. “Not in front of a crowd. Not under the safety of rules. She has endured when you tried to break her. She rose when you buried her. She proved herself when no one believed she would.”
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14:58 Thu, 5 Jun G
Chapter 98
I paused.
“She never needed your approval.”
I looked at the row of candidates. “Only one woman will leave this palace as my Luna”
All eyes went wide.
“Lady Ashford.”
The name landed like a dropped stone. I let the weight of it settle.
“She is the only candidate I will consider. Because she is the only one I trust to rule beside me. Not because of her birth. Not because of her wolf. But because of her heart. Her will. Her strength.”
Murmurs erupted then–soft but rising.
Favoritism. Scandal. Betrayal of tradition. I could hear them without needing to listen.
I welcomed it.
I turned again, sweeping my gaze over the Elders, the nobles, the council delegates.
“This is not a vote,” I said. “This is not a request.” I reached up and adjusted the crown on my brow with slow, deliberate precision.
“This is my choice. And as your king, my choice is the law.”
The whispers stopped. I didn’t need applause. I didn’t want approval. I wanted silence.
And I got it. The chamber stood still as frost.
I stepped down from the dais and walked the length of the chamber without pause. No one dared stop me. Not this time.
Behind me, the room tried to breathe again.
Let them try to catch up to what I already knew: There was no selection. There was only her.
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