Weight Of Silence
Chapter 92:
Outside, the air seemed charged with tension. Wolves paused when she passed, their words cutting off mid-sentence. No one confronted her outright, but the weight of their silence was heavier than open hostility.
“They talk because they’re scared,” Ryn said quietly as they walked. “Fear makes people say stupid things.”
“I know,” she replied.
They crossed the courtyard, directly opposite was the council hall. The midday sun catching the marks in the stone, from training blades and old battles.
Kael cursed under his breath, as they got closer. “They’ll paint you as the reason everything’s falling apart.”
She nodded. “Let them.”
Kael tilted his head. “You really want to walk into that?”
“I don't really have a choice,” She replied.
Kael studied her for a long moment. “I hope you know I'm coming with you.”
She gave a small laugh, “I expected you would.”
He smirked faintly. “You’ll need someone to drag you back when you try to burn the council hall down.”
A ghost of a smile touched her lips, but it didn’t last. She took a slow breath, hoping to relieve some of the pressure in her chest. She didn’t realize she was trembling until Kael said quietly, “You’re scared.”
Aria met his eyes. “Of course I am.”
The council chamber was carved from dark stone, its walls lined with banners depicting the silver crescent of Lucien’s bloodline. It seemed smaller than she remembered… and colder too, despite the torches burning low, filling the room with the heavy scent of smoke and herbs.
She stepped through the wide double doors with Kael at her back. Ryn had remained at the threshold, closing the door behind them.
Six elders sat in a semicircle around the central firepit, they didn’t rise when she entered. The flames sputtered weakly, throwing out more smoke than light. Kael stepped off to the side, arms folded. He gave her a single, steady nod—the closest thing to encouragement she would get.
Aria didn’t bow. She stopped just inside the circle, meeting each elder’s eyes in turn. A chair was brought by an attendant.
Elder Ilyra spoke first. “Aria Vale,” she gestured to the chair, “Sit.”
She remained standing. “I prefer to stay on my feet.”
She regarded her for a long moment, then inclined her head. “Suit yourself. You know why we called you?”
“No,” she said. “But I imagine you’ll tell me.”
“Aria Vale,” said another, a tall, spare man named James. His silver hair gleamed like forged steel in the firelight. “You were summoned to answer questions concerning your… return.”
Her voice was even. “Then ask them.”
A few of the elders exchanged glances at her tone. Then Ilyra stood slowly, her hands clasped behind her back. Her presence filled the space, “You made good time,” she said. “For a group being stalked through half the forest.”
Kael crossed his arms. “You heard about that?”
“I hear everything that happens near our borders.” She turned at last, her sharp eyes landing on Aria. “Especially when it involves the woman who disobeyed the MoonGoddess.”
Aria met her gaze evenly. “The woman has a name. Say it.”
“I could,” Ilyra replied, “but names have weight. And yours carries too much of it right now.”
Kael’s tone hardened. “She saved Lucien’s life.”
“Perhaps,” Ilyra said smoothly. “Or perhaps she traded one danger for another.”
Aria frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
She circled the table slowly, her boots clicking softly against the stone. “Since you crossed our borders, we’ve had reports of scouts watching from the trees. Silent. Not attacking. Just waiting. My sentries can’t scent them, and my seers can’t find their traces. They’re like ghosts.”
“That started before we reached you,” Kael said. “They followed us for days.”
Ilyra nodded. “Then you led them here.”
Her words hit her like a blow. Aria felt her chest tighten. “You think I wanted that? That I did that on purpose?”
“I think it doesn’t matter what you wanted.” Ilyra stopped in front of her, close enough that Aria could smell the sharp tang of iron on her hands. “The moment you stepped into our territory, you brought whatever’s following you to our doorstep. And now, every wolf in this pack sleeps with a blade within reach.”
Aria clenched her fists. “I didn’t ask to be hunted.”
“No one ever does,” Ilyra said simply. “But they're hunted anyway.”
The silence stretched between them, heavy and cold. Finally, Kael broke it. “We’re not staying long. Once Lucien’s fit to travel, we’ll leave.”
She hummed, narrowing her eyes at Aria. “We'll see.” She slinked back to her chair like a cat.
“Regardless!” James called out, “You stand before this pack’s council to discuss an act that has shaken every border. The death of Alpha Dren of the White Fang.”
Kael stepped forward. “It was self-defense.”
Elder Tina snapped her fan shut with a crack. “Self-defense? Against an Alpha on neutral ground? She burned him alive.”
Kael’s voice was calm but firm. “He attacked first.”
Jame’s gaze cut to Aria. “And you…Did you mean to kill him?”
Aria lifted her chin. “I was only trying to survive but I would do it again in a heartbeat.”
A low murmur of disapproval rang through the air. Ilyra raised a hand, silencing it, though her mouth twitched, whether in irritation or respect, Aria couldn’t tell.
She leaned back, a grin playing on his lips. “You’ve made a legend of yourself, Vale. Refused the Goddess, killed an Alpha, turned rogues into believers. That sort of power attracts attention.”
“I didn’t ask for attention,” she said.
“No one ever does,” she replied smoothly. “But the question stands: what do we do with someone who can challenge the natural order of things?”
Kael’s patience snapped. “She is the natural order. The Goddess wanted to use her power.”
Ilyra’s eyes flashed. “The Goddess offered her a chance to become divine. She spat in her face!”
Aria’s voice cut through their raised voices. “Because I didn’t want to become something that watched instead of fought!”
Ilyra studied her. “You claim defiance as loyalty. Interesting. But words don’t erase the consequence. The packs are fracturing. Rogues call you Alpha of Alphas. Some packs whisper rebellion.”
“So you’d rather they whisper under their beds afraid, while the Goddess watches up from above untouched ?” Aria asked.
That earned a few startled glances. She continued, voice steady but edged with steel. “Wolves have followed orders for centuries: kneel, obey, sacrifice. And where has it led us? Gods fighting through us like we’re their weapons. I chose to stay and fight for myself. If that threatens you, maybe you should ask why.”
James chuckled. “You see? That’s what terrifies them, Ilyra. She doesn’t bow.”
Ilyra’s gaze snapped to him. “And that makes her dangerous.”
Kael spoke for the first time since entering. “Dangerous doesn’t always mean wrong.”
He looked at the Elders one by one. “She saved me. She saved Kael. She stopped something that would have swallowed us all. If that makes her dangerous, then perhaps you should be thanking her for still standing here.”
The chamber hummed with quiet unease. At last, James sighed. “The Council will recess to consider its ruling.”
Aria expected the benches to empty, but instead, Ilyra stood again. “One more thing,” she said coldly. “If she remains in this territory, the packs will see it as an endorsement. They will rally to her banner, or strike to destroy her. Either way, chaos spreads.”
Kael’s tone turned harsh. “She stays under my protection. Under Lucien’s protection.”
“And you think protection will stop prophecy?” her smile was thin. “The Goddess warned that a wolf who turns from divinity will bring fire to her own den. You’ve already felt the beginning of that.”
The words slithered through the hall, curling into everyone’s minds. Aria stiffened. “Is that a threat?”
“It’s a reminder,” Ilyra said softly. “If the Moon abandons her child, what light will guide the rest of us?”
Kael’s hand brushed Aria’s arm—a silent warning to hold her temper. She drew a breath, forcing the Rune’s glow to fade.
James struck the gavel once. “Enough. The Council will deliberate. You will remain within the pack grounds until summoned again.”