The Decision to Spill Blood
The High Council did not rage when they returned to their stronghold.
They calculated.
Stone walls sealed behind them with a dull echo as the chamber doors closed. No guards spoke. No servants lingered. Only the five Executors remained, standing beneath the cold glow of sigils carved into the ceiling.
The silence was deliberate.
The lead Executor broke it first. "The Moon Court did not bend."
Another scoffed. "Because we allowed it to speak."
"No," the lead Executor corrected calmly. "Because it exposed us."
That word settled heavily in the chamber.
"They chose her," one of the others said. "Not openly. But enough."
"They chose doubt," another replied. "And doubt spreads."
The lead Executor turned slowly. "Enough abstraction. Speak plainly."
A younger Executor stepped forward, jaw tight. "If we allow her council to stand, the old hierarchy collapses within a generation."
"And if we strike now," another said, "we risk martyring her."
The lead Executor's eyes hardened. "Martyrs inspire. Survivors destabilize."
He moved toward the central table, placing his palm against its surface. Runes flared faintly, revealing a projection of territories across the region.
"She has done something worse than rebellion," he continued. "She has given them permission to question."
The room fell quiet again.
"That cannot be undone with words," he said. "Only with consequence."
One of the Executors hesitated. "Open violence will confirm her accusations."
"Not if it is framed correctly," the lead Executor replied.
He gestured, and the map shifted.
Markers appeared.
Small packs. Border territories. Isolated settlements.
"We do not attack the Moon Court," he said. "We erase what supports it."
Understanding dawned slowly.
"You mean examples," one Executor said.
"Yes," he replied. "Demonstrations of what happens when wolves abandon order."
Another frowned. "That risks uncontrolled escalation."
"That risk already exists," the lead Executor said coldly. "She represents uncontrolled change."
He straightened. "We will strike three packs before dawn. Quietly. Efficiently."
A murmur rippled through the chamber.
"Deaths will be blamed on instability," he continued. "On dominance surges. On internal collapse."
One Executor swallowed. "And the Luna."
"We will not touch her yet," the lead Executor said. "We let the world associate her with chaos."
Silence followed.
Then a voice spoke from the shadows.
"That will not be enough."
All five Executors turned sharply.
A sixth presence stepped forward.
He had not been announced. Had not triggered the warding sigils. He moved with an ease that unsettled even them.
"You act too late," the man said calmly.
The lead Executor's eyes narrowed. "Identify yourself."
The man inclined his head slightly. "Someone who understands timing."
"You were not summoned," another Executor snapped.
"No," he agreed. "But you were predictable."
The lead Executor studied him. "You oppose her."
"I oppose imbalance," the man replied. "Whether it wears her face or yours."
A tense silence stretched.
"You propose an alternative," the lead Executor said.
"Yes," the man answered. "You strike harder."
Several Executors stiffened.
"Not indiscriminately," he continued. "Precisely."
He gestured toward the map. "You target those closest to her symbolically. Those she defended openly."
"Assassination," one Executor whispered.
"Correction," the man replied. "Correction of influence."
The lead Executor's gaze sharpened. "And you believe this will end her."
"No," the man said calmly. "It will force her hand."
Silence pressed in.
"If she retaliates," the man continued, "you label her violent. If she does not, you call her weak."
The lead Executor's lips thinned. "You play dangerous games."
The man smiled faintly. "All games are dangerous when power shifts."
The lead Executor turned away, considering.
"Begin preparations," he said finally. "Select targets."
He paused. "But keep her alive."
"For now," the man agreed.
The forest carried the warning long before dawn.
I felt it like a bruise forming beneath the skin.
Not pain.
Imminence.
Lucien stiffened beside me, breath catching sharply. "Something moved."
Alaric looked up from the fire, eyes narrowed. "Blood has been decided."
Cassian rose slowly. "Not here."
"No," I said quietly. "Elsewhere."
The chains inside me tightened, not pulling toward a bond, but outward, spreading thin like threads stretched across the land.
"They are going after the smaller packs," Cassian said grimly. "The ones who cannot defend themselves."
Lucien's claws slid free. "Say where."
I closed my eyes, focusing.
Three points flared faintly in my awareness.
Fear.
Fire.
Silence.
"They want me to choose," I said softly.
Lucien turned sharply. "Choose what."
"Between defending everyone," I replied, "and being everywhere."
Alaric's expression darkened. "You cannot."
"I know."
Cassian stepped closer. "Then we counter strategically."
Lucien shook his head. "This is not a council problem. This is a battlefield."
I inhaled slowly.
"No," I said. "This is exactly what the High Council wants."
The first howl reached us then.
Broken.
Cut short.
Lucien froze.
"That was a death howl."
The basin erupted into motion. Wolves surged to their feet, panic and fury colliding.
I stood still.
"They want me to abandon restraint," I said. "To become what they accuse."
Lucien stepped in front of me. "If you do not act, more will die."
"Yes," I said quietly. "And if I act blindly, even more will follow."
The chains inside me burned.
The fifth presence brushed my senses again.
Closer.
Interested.
Watching to see which line I would cross.
I opened my eyes.
"Send messengers," I said. "Quiet ones. Fast."
Cassian nodded instantly. "And decoys."
Alaric's gaze sharpened. "And we move the council."
Lucien stared at me. "You are planning while they kill."
"I am preventing a massacre," I replied.
Another howl echoed.
This one ended in a scream.
Lucien turned away, fists clenched. "If this is restraint, it tastes like cowardice."
I met his gaze steadily. "Then stay with me and prove it is not."
Silence stretched between us.
Then Lucien nodded once. "I stay."
The forest trembled faintly, as if holding its breath.
Somewhere beyond the trees, the High Council's pieces were already moving.
And they believed, with absolute certainty, that blood would force my answer.
They were wrong.
But before the night ended, the cost of proving it would be written across the land.