Chapter 6 Whispers Made Loud

The great lodge always felt too small during gatherings. Tonight, the long hall was lit with lanterns strung from rafter to rafter, the smell of roasted venison and spiced bread thick in the air. Wolves laughed, drank, and celebrated the end of a long training cycle, their voices rising like a tide.

I sat with Liora at one of the side tables, letting her chatter drown out the steady hum of whispers circling the room. I knew what they were saying without hearing it: Did you see them spar? The way they move? The way the Luna watches her?

It was louder than usual tonight. My stomach twisted with every glance thrown in my direction.

At the far end of the hall, my parents sat with Alpha Tor, Luna Alina, and Kier. The high table gleamed with silver platters and goblets, a display of power as much as celebration.

Liora nudged me. “They’re looking for you.”

I followed her gaze. Sure enough, my father’s hand was raised, beckoning me forward. My chest tightened, but refusing wasn’t an option.

"Pray for me." With the weight of too many eyes, I rose and made my way through the hall.

Kier shifted to make room beside him, his knee brushing mine as I sat. He gave me a small, steady smile, but I couldn’t return it. Not when I could feel what was coming.

Alpha Tor lifted his goblet, voice booming. “To the strength of our future!” The room roared back, the sound shaking the walls. Then his gaze landed on me, sharp and assessing. “And to those who will lead when our time has passed.”

Murmurs rippled through the hall. My skin prickled.

Alina leaned forward, her expression softer, but her words no less heavy. “The pack saw something special today,” she said. “Two young wolves, shoulder to shoulder. Strength meeting strength. That’s what leadership looks like.”

I clenched my hands in my lap. My mother glanced at me, her dark eyes calm but knowing. My father, ever the Beta, smiled with pride but also expectation.

And then someone—one of the elders, emboldened by wine—called out from the crowd: “To Kier and Sable! May the moon bless their bond!”

The hall erupted. Cheers, whistles, laughter. Goblets raised high.

I froze.

Kier’s hand brushed mine under the table, a small anchor in the storm. But the weight of the moment was too much. The noise pressed against my skull, the inevitability of it all closing in like iron bars.

“I—excuse me,” I muttered, shoving back my chair. The hall fell quiet in waves as I strode out, the heavy doors slamming shut behind me.

Cold air hit my face, sharp with pine and river mist. I braced my hands on the railing of the steps, trying to breathe past the ache in my chest.

The doors creaked open behind me. Kier’s footsteps followed, slow but sure.

“They didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said softly.

“They don’t have to mean it,” I snapped, turning on him. “Don’t you see? It doesn’t matter what I want. It doesn’t matter what you want. They’ve already decided for us. My life isn’t mine anymore—it’s theirs. Theirs and the moon’s.”

Kier’s jaw tightened. “Then let’s prove them wrong.”

I blinked at him. “What?”

“Let’s not give them what they expect,” he said, his voice steady with something I hadn’t heard before—defiance. “If the mate bond comes, it comes. If it doesn’t, then we make our own path. Together or apart, it’s ours. Not theirs.”

I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly cold. “Everyone talks about it like it’s this miracle. This… destiny. But to me, it feels like a chain.”

Kier’s jaw flexed, but he didn’t interrupt, so I pressed on. “What if I don’t want my life decided by some cosmic pull? What if I want to choose who I love? When I love? Or if I love at all?”

Silence stretched, long and heavy. My heart pounded, bracing for his judgment.

But when he finally spoke, his voice was low, thoughtful. “You think the bond takes away choice.”

“I know it does,” I snapped, heat rising in my chest. “Look at the women in our pack—half of them had their lives rewritten overnight when the bond snapped into place. Their dreams, their choices, gone. Just because the moon said so.”

Kier studied me, unreadable. Then he stepped closer, close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from him, close enough my wolf perked, straining toward him.

“What if the bond isn’t a chain?” he asked softly. “What if it’s a gift? A way of finding the one person who sees you for everything you are, even the parts you hide?”

His words cut through me, sharp and terrifying. My chest tightened, my wolf whining at the possibility he painted.

I forced myself to shake my head, to step back. “Or maybe it’s just another way to cage us. Another way to control women, dress it up as fate and call it sacred.”

For a long moment, he didn’t answer. He just looked at me, eyes stormy, searching, like he wanted to say something but didn’t trust himself to let it out.

Finally, he exhaled, running a hand through his dark hair. “You always have to fight, don’t you?”

“Someone has to.” My voice was firm, but my hands shook.

He chuckled softly, shaking his head, but there was no humor in it. “I hope, when your mate finds you, they're strong enough to keep up with you.”

The words lingered in the air like smoke, burning in my chest.

I didn’t tell him the truth—that my biggest fear wasn’t that the my mate couldn’t keep up with me.

It was that they would.

And I’d never be free again.

His words sank into me like stones into water, rippling out until my breath came slower, steadier.

But deep down, the truth still burned: three months stood between me and fate. Three months until the moon goddess revealed her choice. And no matter what Kier said, I wasn’t sure I could stay long enough to see if freedom was really possible inside these walls.