Chapter 9 - The Gathering of the Eleven Packs
By midday, the Great Courtyard of Blackstone Fortress was packed from wall to wall. Representatives from all eleven great packs of the north had arrived, summoned not by royal decree or fear of punishment, but by the ancient, resonant pulse of the newly awakened bloodline.
Gray wolves from the frozen tundra, brown wolves from the pine forests, black-coated war packs from the western canyons, and the proud white she-wolves of the eastern mountains stood shoulder to shoulder in absolute harmony.
Ilira walked out onto the grand balcony, flanked by Aldrick and the colossal shadow-wolf—now resting its massive head peacefully beside her hem like a loyal hound rather than a caged primordial terror.
A collective intake of breath swept through the thousands gathered below. Then, one by one, the alpha leaders of the eleven packs dropped to one knee.
"We lived in the shadow of a broken throne," spoke Garreth, the fierce alpha of the western mountain pack, his voice booming across the courtyard. "We forgot the ancient bond. We accepted division. But the true blood of Elenara has returned to light the path."
Garreth raised his fist to his chest, bowing his head. "The western packs pledge their loyalty, their blades, and their souls to Queen Ilira and King Aldrick."
"The northern tundra pledges!" shouted the alpha of the ice-packs.
"The eastern forests pledge!" echoed another.
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Wave after wave of roaring approval rolled across the courtyard, a deafening symphony of unity that shook the very foundations of the mountains. Ilira raised her hand, and silence fell instantly.
"The era of division is over," Ilira’s voice echoed clearly, carried by the wind to every corner of the fortress. "No more empty titles. No more fabricated trials. From this day forward, every wolf, every human, and every soul in the northern realms stands as one people under one crown."
