CHAPTER 9

N Y X A R A
They move me through the doorway without touching me this time. That alone tells me something’s different. The room is round with stone walls all the way up. The ceiling’s low enough that if anyone raised their voice, it would bounce around the whole place.
I slow just enough to take it in. Who stands near the wall, who stands closer to the center, who looks at me, and who doesn’t. There are no chains, no chairs waiting and no one speaking. The silence feels planned, like everyone already knows where they’re supposed to stand and what they’re supposed to do.
I count the exits anyway, just in case. One of the wolves near the wall glances at the man who brought me.
“Is this her?” he asks quietly.
“That’s her,” the man beside me says.
Another voice cuts in. “Human?”
“Obviously.” No one sounds surprised.
I step closer to the center of the room and my shoulders stay tight. I tell myself this is just another tactic, another kind of holding room. But something about this place feels different. The woman standing near the far edge of the circle turns her head before I even reach the stone markings on the floor. She does it slowly, like she already knew where I’d be standing.
Her eyes don’t go to my face right away. They drift for a moment, then lock on me. One of the wolves shifts beside the wall and another clears his throat but no one tells her I’m here. I stop walking and I hadn’t meant to yet.
The woman studies me for a long moment and her expression doesn’t change. It’s not like she’s curious or impressed, she’s just checking something against a memory and finally she speaks.
“Not of moon’s blood,” she says calmly, “but bound by it still.” The words hang in the room and for a second, no one moves.
Then one of the wolves near the wall mutters, “That can’t be right.”
Another shakes his head. “She’s human.”
“I can see that,” the woman says. Her eyes never leave me.
The wolf tries again. “Then how—”
She lifts her hand slightly and he stops talking. Silence settles again, heavier this time and one wolf lowers his gaze, another’s jaw tightens. I wait for someone to explain what she just said, but no one does. So I say the obvious thing.
“What does that mean?” A few of them look at me, then the woman tilts her head slightly.
“You don’t know?” she asks.
“If I did,” I say, “we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
Another wolf mutters under his breath, “This is a mistake.”
The woman ignores him as she keeps looking at me like I’m a puzzle she hasn’t finished solving yet. The quiet in the room feels different now, like something has already been decided and no one can take it back. I refuse to let it settle on me and whatever they think they see— they’re wrong.
People say strange things when they want control. They dress it up in tradition, in old stories and in words that sound ancient enough that no one questions them. The Guild does it and so do kings and wolves aren’t any different.
Bound. Blood. Moon. These words are meant to sound older than they really are. I tell myself it’s just a justification. A reason to keep me here while they figure out what to do with me and that makes sense and it fits patterns I understand.
Still, my breathing is off by half a beat and I only notice because I have to fix it. The room feels colder, or maybe I’m suddenly aware of my skin in a way I wasn’t a moment ago. I focus on the markings on the floor, trying to memorize them.
Then I realize I already missed one and that bothers me more than the prophecy did. Something cuts through my thoughts before I can finish sorting them. My name is spoken too close, and for a second, the room tilts just enough that I have to shift my weight to hide it.
The sound isn’t clear, it is not a full memory but just the edge of one. A tone. A command. And it doesn’t belong to any of the voices in the room. I force it down the way I was trained to and focus on something real.
The stone under my boots, the smell of smoke and old herbs and the fact that no one has moved. When I look up again, the woman is still watching me. I’m not sure she missed that. The moment stretches, then it ends without anyone saying a word.
One of the wolves near the wall nods toward the door and that seems to be enough. No verdict, no explanation and I’m not restrained, but I’m not free either. The decision sits in the room with us, unspoken and as I turn to leave, I feel it again, like I’m being counted.
The wolves don’t look at me the same way they did when I walked in. A few avoid my gaze and one watches too closely, like he’s measuring distance. I remember his face and I always do. They guide me back toward the hallway. They still don’t touch me. They still don’t ask questions, and I thought that has to be on purpose. Whatever I was before, I’m not that anymore.
I don’t know what they think I am. Only that the answer has already been written somewhere I can’t see. The hallway narrows near the bend and that’s where she’s waiting. Scarred face, old wounds that healed badly and she doesn’t hide the way she looks at me.
She steps into my path. I stop. And up close, I catch the smell of iron beneath the smoke, it’s old blood. Her voice is quiet when she speaks.
“You don’t belong here, human.” I hold her gaze.
“Then why did your Alpha bring me here?” I ask and her expression shifts, just slightly.
“Because,” she says softly, “He thinks you do.”