Chapter 103 Chapter One Hundred Three

Chapter 103 Chapter One Hundred Three
Garrick’s fingers pressed into the arm of the couch.

“Son,” he said carefully, “put the gun down… please.”

“Don’t call me that,” Christian spat.

His grip tightened on the weapon.

“You lost that right the second you brought this abomination into our pack.” His eyes cut toward Kaelani. “You should have left her in the woods to die.”

A dangerous smile twisted across his mouth.

“I’m just doing what you didn’t have the balls to do.”

He pulled the trigger, and the shot cracked through the hall.

Brielle screamed.

Kaelani vanished in a blink of violet.

The bullet tore through the couch where she’d been sitting, stuffing and splinters erupting into the air.

Christian’s head snapped left, then right, fury overtaking calculation.

“Where the hell did she go?”

The ticking stopped.

For half a breath, there was silence.

Then the construct above fractured and descended in streaks of light, slamming down around Christian in a tightening ring of energy. The barrier sealed over him in a dome of translucent violet.

He lunged at it, fists striking the surface.

The barrier answered with a violent surge that threw him back, electricity snapping across his skin.

Kaelani reappeared before him, her eyes ignited with power.

The chant spilled from her lips again—ancient, precise—and the barrier pulsed with every word.

“En’sharin tal’veth.
Morakai sel thrae ven.
Lyranth kaelis—var en soren.”

Christian’s body locked mid-motion.

His spine arched as energy coursed through him, a strangled sound tearing from his throat. His hands flew to his head, fingers digging into his temples as blood gushed from his nose.

Around the room, the maids and guards staggered, clutching their heads as the pack link strained under invisible pressure. Elara gasped sharply, palm pressed to her forehead. Brielle braced herself against the back of a chair, breath shuddering.

Kaelani’s voice shifted, now clear and carrying.

“Christian Blake, you stand excommunicated from Silveredge and declared a threat to its people.”

The barrier flared brighter.

His knees buckled.

“By ancient rite, your authority over this pack—its members and its land—is hereby revoked.”

The violet light surged one final time.

The barrier dissolved as quietly as it had formed.

Christian crumpled to the floor, unconscious.

Brielle rushed to him at once, dropping to her knees and lifting him into her arms, her voice breaking as she called his name.

Kaelani’s gaze shifted to the guard. “Pick up your gun. Then bring me the Blade of Silveredge.”

The guard straightened instantly.

“Yes, my lady.”

He moved quickly, scooping up the weapon before hurrying toward the ceremonial chamber.

Garrick stepped closer, studying Kaelani carefully. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” she answered.

His eyes flicked toward Christian, then back to her.

“You performed the Rite of Sundering,” he said quietly, something like awe threading through his voice. “That has only ever been carried out by the Council.”

“With the Moonforged Chains.”

“Rune magic,” Kaelani explained. “Think of it as… a cheat code.”

He studied her for a moment, realizing she was operating beyond what he’d thought possible.

“You knew you would have to bind him,” he said, understanding settling in. “That’s what the clock was really for.”

Kaelani gave a small nod.

“I knew he’d resort to violence,” she replied. “Maybe not that extreme… but I couldn’t afford to be unprepared.”

She looked at him now.

“And I didn’t want to have to kill him.”

Garrick’s expression tightened as he looked back at Christian’s unconscious form.

“I’m sorry.” His voice roughened. “I never would have thought—”

“It doesn’t matter,” Kaelani cut in.

Her eyes held his.

“What matters is whether you’re prepared to take accountability. Fully. Without excuses.”

A flicker of something passed across Garrick’s face—shame, maybe.

“Yes,” he answered quickly. “Of course. From this point on, I am going to do better. You have my word.”

Brielle’s voice broke through from the floor.

She was still kneeling beside Christian, his head resting in her lap.

“And what do you plan to do with him?” she demanded.

Her gaze lifted to Kaelani.

“With us?”

Footsteps echoed down the corridor.

The guard reentered, carrying a long, narrow box cradled carefully in both hands. It was carved from dark oak, inlaid with silver filigree that formed the crest of Silveredge along its lid. Faint lunar etchings traced the borders, worn smooth from generations of use.

He approached slowly, stopping several feet before Kaelani.

“As you requested, my lady,” he said, bowing his head slightly. “The Blade of Silveredge.”

Kaelani’s eyes shifted to Brielle.

“Call the Council,” she said. “Inform them that your son, the former Alpha of Silveredge, has just threatened the life of a pack member.”

Brielle’s face drained of color.

“Absolutely not,” she snapped. “They’ll imprison him.”

Kaelani tilted her head slightly, disbelief flashing across her expression.

“He tried to kill me,” she said plainly. “He pulled the trigger.”

Her gaze didn’t waver.

“You might have found that convenient,” she added coolly. “But what happens the next time he aims at someone else?”

She let the question settle.

“What if it had been one of your maids?”

A breath.

“What if it had been your daughter?”

“I will not call the Council on my son,” Brielle said, rising to her feet.

“Then I will,” Garrick answered.

Her head snapped toward him, fury blazing in her eyes.

“You are a backstabber through and through, aren’t you?” she hissed. “Turning on your own family for—”

Her gaze slid to Kaelani, contempt curling her lip.

“—that mutt.”

Garrick stepped forward, something old and dangerous returning to his posture.

“That’s my daughter,” he said, and there was no hesitation in it. “I already turned my back on her once. And it was the greatest mistake of my life.”

He didn’t look away from Brielle.

“Unlike the rest of you, she didn’t leave me to rot in a cell when she had every right to.”

His jaw clenched.

“I bent over backward for this family. Gave you everything. And what did it cost?”

His voice rose now.

“It cost this pack its integrity. It cost me my spine.”

His hand gestured sharply toward Christian’s unconscious body.

“I let our children run this pack while I stood by and called it leadership. I ignored their cruelty. I excused their disgraceful behavior.”

“No more,” Garrick said. “They are old enough to understand that their actions carry consequences. And Christian will face them.”

Kaelani placed her hand lightly on his shoulder.

He turned toward her. The fury still lingered in his eyes, but it faltered under the steady warmth in hers.

She gave him a small, knowing smile—not in need of defending, but acknowledging that this time, he had chosen correctly.

Then her attention shifted back to Brielle.

“If you refuse to recognize what he’s done as a violation of this pack,” she said, “then you stand complicit in it.”

Her voice did not rise.

“And if that is your position, you will be banished from Silveredge. You may seek asylum elsewhere and hope another pack finds you worth the risk.”

The words landed without flourish.

She turned toward the guard.

A single nod.

He stepped forward and lifted the lid of the ceremonial box.

Inside, the Blade of Silveredge rested on dark velvet, its steel faintly luminous beneath the room’s light, ancient glyphs etched along its length.

Kaelani reached inside and wrapped her fingers around the hilt. Without another word, she turned and walked toward the doors.

One by one, they followed.

Kaelani descended the steps into the courtyard, the Blade of Silveredge gleaming at her side.

“Where is Christian’s beta?” she asked.

The guard appeared at her side. “He never appointed one, my lady. He didn’t believe anyone was worthy.”

Kaelani rolled her eyes once.

“Of course he didn’t.”

Her gaze sharpened.

“Mind-link every guard at every post. Every border. Inform them that Garrick’s firstborn, Kaelani of Silveredge, is invoking her birthright and will be claiming the Alpha seat.”

The guard straightened immediately. “Yes, my lady.”

Kaelani turned to Evelyn.

“Spread it through the pack. If anyone has an objection, they may voice it now.”

Elara stepped forward at last, chin lifted.

“I object.”

Kaelani’s gaze slid to her, cool and unimpressed.

“Anyone else?” she asked. “Anyone with an opinion that actually matters?”

Elara huffed a breath, folding her arms as though the entire display offended her personally.

The guard’s voice carried first.

“No objections.”

Evelyn stepped forward next.

“No objections.”

Kaelani stepped into the center of the courtyard. The air felt different there. Charged. Expectant.

She lifted the Blade of Silveredge and recited the words as they had been spoken for generations.

“By law of lineage and bond of land, I lay claim to the mantle of Alpha.”

The blade glinted as she turned it once.

“Let the pack bear witness. Let the land bear witness.”

She dragged the blade across her palm. The cut was clean.

The moment her blood touched the dirt, something ancient answered.

“For as my blood falls to this ground, so does my will bind to it.”

Her wolf surged to the surface as the pack link slammed into her like a tidal force—voices, heartbeats, presence—every thread of Silveredge flooding through her in a single, overwhelming wave.

Gasps rippled through the courtyard as the bond snapped fully into place.