The Pack Meeting Hall was usually a place of order. Today, it smelled of sweat and panic.
The elders sat in a semi-circle, their expressions grave. In the center of the room, Sarah—back in human form but wrapped in a coarse blanket—shook. Her skin was still blotchy, her hair now thin and falling out in clumps, a lingering effect of her cursed form.
Her father, Alpha Marcus, looked aged by ten years overnight. He wouldn't even look at her.
"It was her!" Sarah shrieked, her voice cracking. She pointed a trembling finger at the back of the room. "Ella! She did this! She's a witch!"
All heads turned to Ella.
Ella stood near the door, flanked by guards. She felt small, but she held her chin up. She had to. Roman had told her to come.
"Ella is a Wolf-less," Elder Thomas scoffed. "She has no magic. She can barely light a candle, let alone curse an Alpha bloodline."
"I saw her!" Sarah raved. Her eyes were bloodshot, the pupils blown wide. "In the woods! She was... she was staring at me!"
Roman's voice was flat. "Judgment."
Silence hit the room.
Not a breath.
"The Enforcers have reviewed the records," Roman continued. He pulled a file from his jacket. "For years, Sarah has abused her status. Bullying. blackmail. Physical assault on weaker pack members."
He tossed a stack of photos onto the floor. They fanned out. Ella recognized them—pictures of Sarah beating a younger Omega. Pictures of Sarah vandalizing property.
"The Goddess does not reward cruelty with power," Roman said. "She strips it away."
"Lies!" Alpha Marcus stood up, his face red. "You dare accuse my daughter—"
"I accuse nothing," Roman interrupted, his gaze icy. "I simply state the law. A shifter who cannot shift properly is a danger. A shifter who turns into... *that*... is an abomination."
He turned to the elders. "The Law of the Claw is clear. Any wolf deemed a genetic liability must be removed from the line of succession. And if their presence threatens the pack's reputation..."
"Exile," Elder Thomas finished the sentence.
"No!" Sarah screamed, crawling toward her father. "Daddy, please! Don't let them!"
Marcus looked at his daughter—the bald patches, the sores on her skin, the madness in her eyes. He looked at the disgusted faces of his council.
He closed his eyes and turned away.
"Take her," Marcus whispered.
"No! NO!" Sarah screamed as two guards dragged her up. She kicked and bit, foaming at the mouth. "Ella! I'll kill you! I know it was you!"
They dragged her out. Her screams faded down the hallway, leaving a heavy silence in the chamber.
Roman turned to Marcus. "And for the Alpha who allowed this corruption to fester..."
"I will step down," Marcus said, his voice hollow. "Until... until this shame is cleansed."
"Wise," Roman said. He turned to the room. Roman walked toward Ella.
The crowd moved. Fast. Getting out of his path.
He stopped. Up close, he smelled of cologne. And something metallic. Blood. and ozone.
"Did she hurt you?" Roman asked, loud enough for everyone to hear.
"I..." Ella stammered. "No. Not today."
"She won't hurt you ever again," Roman declared.
He unbuttoned his jacket.
Heavy wool.
He draped it over her shoulders.
It smelled of ozone and sandalwood.
The weight of it was a cage. A claim.
"From today," Roman said.
His hand was heavy on her shoulder.
"Ella is under my protection. Insult her? You insult me."
"Touch her? You answer to me."
He looked at Ethan, who was standing in the corner, looking pale and conflicted. Roman's lip curled slightly.
"Do we have an understanding?" Roman asked.
"Yes, Enforcer," the room murmured in unison.
Roman looked at Ella. His eyes were dark.
It wasn't love.
Ella let him guide her out.
But as his hand tightened on her shoulder, pressing just a little too hard, she remembered the witch's words.
*A toll on the soul.*
She looked at the black jacket engulfing her frame. It was warm, yes. But it was also heavy.
The territory fence was rusted iron. Cold.
Roman parked the car. He didn't turn off the engine. The vibration went through the seats.
"Look," Roman said.
He pointed at the gate. A pile of grey rags sat in the mud.
It moved. Slowly. A wet, scratching sound.
Sarah.
Her skin was the color of a dead fish. The sores were open. Yellow.
She wasn't a wolf. She wasn't human. She was a lump of meat with teeth.
She looked at the car. She didn't scream. She didn't have lungs for it. Just a wheeze.
"This is the law," Roman said. His hands were steady on the wheel. "Broken genes. Broken rules. The pack purges the rot."
Ella looked away. The smell of the woods was sour now.
"She was your friend once," Ella said.
"She was a tool," Roman corrected. "When a tool breaks, you throw it in the dirt."
He put the car in reverse. The gravel crunched.
"Remember the sight, Ella. It's the only world outside my protection."