The summons came at dusk.
A silver-marked guard stood outside Saphira's chamber, eyes deliberately unreadable. No explanation. No delay.
"The Council requests your presence," he said.
Not invites.
Requests were never optional.
The Council Chamber lay at the heart of the Lunar Academy—an ancient circular hall carved from black stone, its ceiling open to the sky. The moon hovered directly above, perfectly centered, as if it too were part of the tribunal.
Saphira stepped into the circle alone.
She felt it immediately—the weight.
Seven council members sat elevated along the ring: elders, war leaders, and alphas whose names were spoken with reverence or fear. Their combined presence pressed down on her like a hand on her spine.
And among them—
Alpha Kael.
Their eyes met for a fraction of a second.
He gave nothing away.
"Princess Saphira of the Silverlight Pack," an elder began, voice echoing unnaturally. "You displayed an anomaly during the second Trial."
Saphira's pulse steadied. Control, she reminded herself. Just like Mother taught you.
"I adapted to my opponent," she said. "Nothing more."
A low murmur rippled through the chamber.
Another voice cut in, sharper. "We sensed magic."
Her breath caught—but only for an instant.
"Many wolves manifest late," she replied carefully. "The Academy exists to reveal potential, does it not?"
A pause.
The moonlight intensified.
Kael leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees. "Then you won't object to a verification."
Her heart dropped.
Two guards stepped forward, carrying a Lunar Sigil Stone—an artifact designed to react to supernatural energies. Healers, in particular, triggered it violently.
Exposure.
Execution.
Kael's voice followed, low but measured. "This is standard procedure."
Standard lies, she thought.
Saphira approached the stone. Her hands trembled now, not from fear—but from grief. Elara's voice whispered in her mind.
"If they force the truth from you, survive it."
She placed her palm against the stone.
Pain flared.
The sigil hummed—then cracked.
A sharp fissure split its surface, light bleeding through like a wound.
The chamber erupted.
"She shattered it—"
"That's impossible—"
"No initiate has ever—"
Saphira staggered back, clutching her hand. The light had not exposed her—it had answered her.
The eldest councilor rose slowly. "You are not merely gifted," he said. "You are something… older."
Kael stood.
"Enough," he said, his voice slicing through the chaos. "The stone is flawed. It has not been recalibrated since the last Blood Eclipse."
Several heads snapped toward him.
"You would shield her?" someone demanded.
"I would prevent the Council from executing a princess on inconclusive evidence," Kael replied coolly. "Silverlight will not remain silent if she is harmed."
Roderick's name was never spoken.
It didn't need to be.
After a long, heavy moment, the eldest raised a hand. "She will remain under observation. Restricted. Watched."
Saphira's stomach twisted.
Not free.
But alive.
As the chamber emptied, Kael passed her—close enough that only she could hear him.
"They're hunting answers now," he murmured. "Be smarter than them."
She looked up at him, anger and confusion colliding. "You know what I am."
"I know what they'll do if they're certain," he said. "And I won't let that happen."
Before she could respond, he was gone.
Saphira stood alone beneath the open sky, moonlight pooling at her feet.
The Council had not found her secret.
But they had found her scent.
And once wolves catch a scent, they never stop tracking.