The Banished Shy Luna Chapter 39

I stood behind Elder Thora’s chair, my hands clasped together to keep them from shaking. The conference chamber stretched wide, a great circle of tables filled with Alphas and their advisors. The air was heavy, carrying the layered scents of dominance, impatience, and pride.

The Elders presided from their table at the center. Elder Malric spoke first, his deep voice rumbling like distant thunder.

“For the past year,” he began, “this Council has received petitions regarding disputes between packs. Today, these grievances will be heard.”

What followed was hours of issues.

Two Alphas argued over a strip of borderland thick with deer, their warriors clashing in bloody skirmishes that had left both sides weaker. The Elders listened, asked sharp questions, then delivered a ruling that the land would be neutral hunting grounds, overseen by both packs together.

Next came smaller wars—packs raiding one another over rivers, farmlands, even abandoned mines. Voices rose, threats were made, and Elder Jorn had to slam his fist against the table to silence them more than once.

After territory came finances. One pack admitted their housing was collapsing, their young forced to share dens with elders. Another complained about unfair job distribution—warriors refusing guard duty, healers stretched too thin, hunters demanding higher shares of meat.

For two long hours, I listened to it all. My legs ached from standing, but I kept my chin up, watching Thora, memorizing how she carried herself. Calm, patient, unshaken.

Finally, Elder Malric turned toward her. “Elder Thora,” he said, his tone solemn, “the floor is yours.”

Every gaze in the room shifted to her.

Thora rose slowly, her silver gown pooling around her chair as though the moon itself had risen to stand among us. Her presence silenced the last whispers before she even spoke.

“There are several matters I wish to address today,” she said, her voice carrying easily across the vast chamber. “The first is the most urgent: our reproductive rates. In the last three years, they have fallen by nearly half. If nothing is done, if we allow this decline to continue unchecked, we face extinction within a decade.”

The words struck like lightning. Gasps echoed. Heads turned sharply, voices rising in frantic murmurs.

Thora lifted her hand, steadying the tide. “This is one of the reasons why all females were called to attend this Gathering. Last night alone, seven mate bonds were discovered.”

The room shifted with surprised murmurs.

“Yes,” she continued. “Seven. Within the next year, those seven pairs may welcome pups into this world—seven new lives, the next generation of our kind. It is proof that bonds remain our strongest hope. But proof also that we must do more. Bonds are rare. Too rare.”

I felt heat prickle against my skin. Rare. I thought of Toren’s eyes on me, of his words, You are mine. My heart stumbled.

Elder Thora’s voice sharpened. “The Council has long debated how to address this. Today, we put forth a measure. Wolves may search for their fated mates until the age of twenty-five. If no bond is found by then, you will have two years to select a chosen mate. If no selection is made within those two years, a mate will be appointed to you within your pack.”

The silence that followed was absolute—until it shattered.

“That’s not fair!” an Alpha roared, slamming his palm on the table.

“You can’t dictate bonds!” another female cried out from the back.

“This strips us of free will!”

Chaos erupted. Alphas bellowed, Lunas shrieked, warriors muttered darkly to one another. The conference chamber boiled with outrage.

“Silence.”

The single word rolled out like thunder. Elder Cael had risen, his tall frame radiating authority. His hawk-like eyes scanned the room, daring anyone to continue shouting. One by one, the voices died.

“You call it unfair,” he said, his tone cutting, “but what is truly unfair is allowing our species to wither into dust. We are not speaking of individual choice—we are speaking of survival. If the numbers continue to fall, there will be no packs, no wolves, no futures. You would rather cling to selfish whims while your people starve for heirs?”

The room shifted uneasily, Alphas shifting in their seats, some nodding slowly, others scowling.

Elder Jorn growled his agreement. “This is not permanent. We will revisit it in five years—ten at most—if the reproductive rate rises. But until then, this must be law. For the good of all.”

Several hands rose across the circle.

Questions followed.

“What of those already twenty-five?” one Alpha demanded.

“They will have two years,” Thora answered calmly.

Murmurs spread again, heavy with unease. Some Alphas leaned toward acceptance, others clearly seethed, their wolves bristling at the very idea of enforced mates.

Finally, a hand rose. Alpha Lucas.

My stomach turned as all eyes shifted to him. He leaned back in his chair, his expression smooth, too calm. “Tell me, Elders,” he said, his voice like poison honey, “what happens when you discover your mate, but she has already been appointed to another? Will you destroy a family to satisfy fate? Or will you tear apart bonds we forced them into?”

Whispers darted around the room like sparks.

Elder Thora met his gaze without blinking. “That, Alpha Lucas, will be for the female to decide. And her choice will be honored—whether it keeps her with her chosen mate, or severs the bond to claim the one fate intended.”

The silence that followed was thick, weighted with the enormity of her words.

It was Elder Selene who finally broke it. Her obsidian gaze swept the room like a blade. “This Gathering is not finished. There is another matter to discuss, one reserved only for Alphas.”

Her gaze flicked to the crowd of women standing behind their mates.

“All females—leave the chamber,” she commanded, her voice brooking no argument. Then, after a heartbeat: “Except for Kira. And Aleria. And Lyra.”

The command settled over me like a noose.

My mother stiffened, her nails digging into the back of Lucas’s chair. Lyra’s lips curved in a cruel smile. And me—my heart slammed against my ribs, breath catching as every other woman began to file out.

Whatever this was, whatever came next—there would be no hiding from it.