The Banished Shy Luna Chapter 16

Elder Thora’s pen tapped once against her notepad, her silver eyes scanning the line before she spoke again.

“Kira.”

The sound of my name made my knees weak. My stomach lurched as every head turned toward me. I forced my feet to move, stepping out from the line until I stood in the open space. My palms were damp, my throat dry, but I kept my chin down, refusing to meet the eyes that burned into me.

Elder Thora’s voice was calm, yet carried the weight of command. “Age?”

“Eighteen,” I whispered, my voice trembling.

Her gaze didn’t waver. “Your wolf?”

I hesitated. “I… I haven’t shifted.”

A ripple of murmurs slid through the room. Elder Thora’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Why?”

The question pierced like a blade. My chest squeezed, panic clawing at my throat. “I—I don’t know my position in the pack,” I blurted out, too fast, too small.

Elder Thora tilted her head, her sharp gaze narrowing further. “Explain.”

I froze, words choking me. How could I explain what a lifetime of silence felt like? How could I say out loud that I wasn’t anything, that I wasn’t allowed to be anything?

Before I could find the words, footsteps broke the silence.

Callie.

She stepped forward from the line, her voice strong but nervous. “Elder Thora, if I may—Kira’s parents don’t allow her to run with the pack. They don’t allow her to shift. They don’t let her eat with the others. She… she does all the household chores. And she’s told to stay out of Alpha Lucas’s way.”

Gasps rippled through the line of women, their stares now heavy with something different—curiosity, shock, maybe even pity.

Elder Thora’s silver eyes cut to Callie, sharp as a knife. “You are not to speak unless spoken to again. Do you understand?”

Callie’s face flushed red, and she bowed her head quickly. “Yes, Elder. Forgive me.” She slipped back into line, biting her lip.

Then Elder Thora turned back to me. Her gaze pinned me like I was prey caught in a trap. “Is that true?”

My chest rose and fell too quickly. I wanted to deny it, to hide, to protect what little pride I had left. But I couldn’t lie—not to her. Not when she looked at me like that.

“Yes,” I whispered, the word barely carrying, but it was enough.

Elder Thora began to move, circling me slowly. The air grew heavier with each step she took, her pen scratching against the notepad. Every flick of her wrist, every glance at me, made me feel as though she could see through my skin, peel back the layers of shame and silence and find every scar I’d ever carried.

Finally, she stopped in front of me. “Go back in line.”

Relief crashed over me so hard my legs almost gave out. I stumbled back into place, my head bowed low, the weight of the stares burning against my skin.

But Elder Thora didn’t linger. She called the next name, her pen poised, her voice calm once more—as though I hadn’t just been stripped bare before the entire room.

The air in the room grew heavier as the last name was called, the last girl inspected, questioned, and sent back to her place in line. Elder Thora flipped her notepad closed, the sound sharp in the silence. She looked at us, her gaze sweeping over every female as though she could see straight into our souls.

When she spoke again, her voice was calm, but the words carried like thunder.

“The reason attendance is being taken at this year’s Alpha Gathering is not tradition,” she said. “It is necessity.”

Murmurs stirred immediately, hushed and uncertain. Elder Thora’s eyes narrowed, and the room fell silent again.

“In the last five years,” she continued, “the reproductive rate of shifters has dropped by forty-one percent.”

Gasps rang out, horrified whispers spreading down the line. My chest tightened as the number sank in. Forty-one percent. That was nearly half.

Elder Thora went on, each word deliberate. “This is due, in large part, to a lack of mate bonds being formed. Too many of our people are without mates, or are choosing poorly. Too many are waiting too long. Our numbers are dwindling, and if this continues, in twenty years, shifters may go extinct.”

The room erupted in shocked murmurs, voices rising like a wave. My heart hammered painfully, the weight of her words settling like stones in my stomach. Extinct.

Elder Thora raised a hand, and silence fell instantly. “That is why the Elders have called for this attendance. By requiring all females to be present, and ensuring you interact with other packs, we hope to see more bonds form. We will even allow for chosen mate bonds to be acknowledged. If this succeeds, our reproductive rates should climb again.”

Her gaze sharpened as she swept the room once more. “If it does not… then the fate of our kind is sealed.”

No one breathed. No one dared.

She straightened, her silver hair shimmering in the light. “Tomorrow afternoon, the Elders will announce this to the Alphas at the Gathering. Until then, you are not to speak of it. What is said in this room stays in this room. If you disobey…” Her aura pulsed, thick and suffocating, pressing down on all of us. “We will know.”

Shivers rippled through the females. Heads nodded quickly, lips pressed tight in fear.

Elder Thora’s gaze softened slightly, though her voice stayed firm. “You are excused.”

The relief in the room was palpable. Plates clattered back onto tables, chairs scraped, and every female rushed toward the doors, eager to escape the weight of her presence.

But then Elder Thora’s voice cut through the air again.

“Except you, Kira.”

I froze.

Every head turned toward me for one heartbeat before they hurried out, whispering, glancing back with wide eyes. And then the doors shut, the room empty but for me and Elder Thora.

My stomach knotted so tight I thought I might be sick. My hands shook at my sides.

I stood there, trembling, terrified of what was about to happen.