Chapter 2 - THE VIPER IN THE COURTROOM
The heavy oak doors swung inward, revealing First Counselor Mard flanked by four elite guards clad in silver-plated armor. Mard’s face was a mask of calculated deference, but his eyes darted nervously toward Senna, calculating the damage control required for his failed plot.
"My King," Mard began, bowing low, though his posture lacked true respect. "The elders are murmuring. Rumors are spreading through the lower barracks that a human clerk has bewitched the Alpha King’s judgment. This... union, or whatever aberration occurred in the ring, violates ancient pack law."
Aldric stepped in front of Senna, shielding her from view like a mountain blocking an oncoming storm. The air in the chamber grew dense, heavy with the suffocating weight of an Alpha’s true dominance.
"Watch your tongue, Mard," Aldric growled, his voice a low, rumbling threat that made the guards instinctively take a half-step back. "You speak of my chosen mate."
"She is human, Sire!" Mard pressed forward, his voice rising in desperate escalation. "She carries no wolf blood, no political leverage, and no reverence for our customs. If you seat a human clerk beside you as Luna, the northern houses will rebel. The bloodlines of Ithinar will be tainted!"
From behind Aldric, the soft rustle of fabric announced Senna’s movement. She stepped past the King, her head held high, ignoring the throbbing pain in her shoulder. She walked right up to the First Counselor, stopping only inches away. Despite her smaller stature and human fragility, the sheer force of her unyielding spirit made Mard flinch.
"Tainted?" Senna repeated, her voice dripping with lethal calm. "Is that what you call a human who survives a three-round slaughter meant to kill her quietly? Your precious traditions, Counselor, seem to rely heavily on murder in the dark."
Mard’s face flushed a mottled red. "You speak out of turn, lowborn—"
"Quiet," Aldric commanded. The single word cracked like a whip through the room.
The King stepped closer to Mard, his amber gaze boring straight into the counselor’s soul. "You arranged the trial, Mard. You altered the delegation roster to place Senna in the arena, hoping her death would send a political message to the Low Field. Do you take me for a fool?"
Silence descended upon the chamber, thick and suffocating. The guards exchanged uneasy glances, their loyalty to the crown warring with decades of allegiance to the council.
"I demand a tribunal!" Mard spat, dropping all pretense of politeness as panic took hold. "You cannot condemn me without the consensus of the elders!"
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"I am the Alpha King," Aldric declared, his voice echoing off the stone walls with absolute finality. "My word is law. Guards, strip him of his insignia and take him to the obsidian cells."
Before the guards could move, Mard’s hand flashed to his belt, pulling a silver-plated dagger etched with runic poison—a weapon designed to paralyze even a wolf shifter. With a snarl of pure desperation, he lunged past Aldric directly toward Senna.
