The chain pulled a shadow from Cassian’s chest. It had the shape of a black wolf and eyes full of bewildered fury. His human body collapsed in the water while his Lycan spirit clawed at the silver links. Evelyn leaped from the platform, but the hidden crown threw her back. Lucian sat on the stone throne with both hands locked around its arms. Blood ran from his nose. “The old magic accepts sacrifice,” he said. “It never cared whether the witness volunteered.” The eclipse darkened another fraction, turning the cavern light the color of bruises.
Mira shouted instructions from the ledge. The crown was built from three authorities: the king’s beast, the witness’s truth, and the packs’ consent. Lucian had stolen the first two, but the gathered wolves could still refuse him. Evelyn faced the ledges. “You watched him shame me,” she called. “You watched him poison your children into soldiers. If you want him as king, stay silent.” No one moved. Lucian smiled. Then old Mara from the kitchens stepped to the water and bared her throat—not in submission, but refusal. “No crown of mine,” she said.
Noah joined her. Then Seraphina. One by one Moonclaw wolves repeated the words. Royal guards followed. Their voices filled the cavern until the throne trembled. Lucian’s confidence cracked. He poured more stolen power into the chain. Cassian’s wolf spirit snarled soundlessly as another link closed around its muzzle. Evelyn could