[Third Person].
Two days later, the Carter household was unusually lively that evening.
Word had already spread across Stormveil that Alpha Draven’s coronation was drawing near. But what truly fueled conversation was not the coronation itself. It was the uncertainty surrounding redith.
In the main sitting room of the Carter estate, Monique lounged comfortably on one of the sofas, a cup of tea balanced in her hand, a thin smile resting on her lips.
"So," she began lazily, "it seems our dear little sister might not beco Queen after all."
Across from her, Gary let out a dry chuckle. "It was only a matter of ti," he said. "Did anyone truly think the packs would allow a wolfless Luna to sit beside their King?"
Mabel adjusted the shawl draped over her shoulders, her expression sharp with restrained satisfaction.
"Cursed by the Moon Goddess and without a wolf," she said. "That alone is enough to disqualify her. The elders will never accept it. Stormveil is not so charity house."
Their mother sat quietly at the far end, fingers twisting the edge of her dress, but she did not interrupt.
Gary leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "I told you all from the start—she climbed too high, too quickly. People like her fall harder."
Monique’s smile widened. "She has always been arrogant. Ever since she returned from Duskmoor, she barely even set foot in this house."
Mabel scoffed. "Not barely. She didn’t set foot here at all." Then, her tone sharpened. "When she returned to Stormveil, did she co ho? Did she acknowledge us?" she continued. "No. She went straight to the Oatrun estate as if we did not exist."
There was a flicker of resentnt in her eyes.
"She learned to be cocky," Mabel went on. "Holding her head so high. Acting like she is already Queen."
Gary leaned back, crossing his arms. "Well," he said coldly, "let’s see how long that head stays high when the crown never touches it."
Monique tapped her teacup lightly against its saucer. "I wonder how she will face the public," she mused. "The sa people who once whispered about her curse will now openly mock her."
Gary’s jaw tightened, old grievances resurfacing. "She brought humiliation to this family," he said. "People said we raised a cursed child. Said we lacked virtue because she had no wolf."
Then, his voice lowered, edged with bitterness. "I will only be satisfied," he added, "when I see her fall from that height she climbed. Only then will I forget the disgrace she caused us."
Mabel nodded slowly. "Yes," she said. "Let her taste what it ans to be looked down on."
For a mont, silence settled in the room. Then Monique spoke again, her voice light but cutting.
"If she is not crowned Queen, do you think Alpha Draven will still stand by her?"
Gary smirked. "A King needs strength beside him. Not weakness."
Mabel gave a small, cruel laugh. "Perhaps this is the Moon Goddess correcting her mistake."
None of them knew what was unfolding behind palace walls. None of them knew about the council’s internal disputes, or Randall’s hidden knowledge, or the secrets redith carried in her blood.
To them, it was simple. redith was wolfless. redith was cursed. And soon, if fate was kind, redith would fall.
And in that sitting room, beneath the warm lights of the Carter estate, three siblings waited for her downfall with undisguised anticipation.
***
Oatrun Estate~
Three days later, the morning of the scheduled council eting arrived.
redith and Draven finished their usual run before sunrise. They did not speak much while running, but there was an understanding between them. Today was the day.
After bathing, redith stood in the middle of the bedroom while her maidservants dressed her. There was not one hint of softness in her looks today.
Azul helped redith into a fitted dark outfit—structured, clean, and severe in its simplicity. It wasn’t lavish, but it carried authority. Kira adjusted the sleeves. Cora fastened the buttons neatly. Arya stepped back once everything sat perfectly.
"Hair?" Deidra asked.
"Put it up," redith replied.
Deidra worked quickly, curling redith’s silver hair and pinning most of it back so it frad her face without falling into it. The style was deliberately elegant but firm.
When redith looked at herself in the mirror, she did not see a girl trying to look like a Queen. She saw soone ready to take what was hers.
Finally, redith stepped into the bedroom, and standing there was Draven. He was already dressed in dark formal wear suitable for the council chamber. His eyes imdiately fell on her.
"You are ready," he said quietly in approval, already reaching out with his right hand.
"Mmm." There was not one hint of nervousness from redith as she took his hand and let him lead her to the breakfast table.
---
Breakfast was quieter than usual before Randall broke it.
"So," he said, dabbing the corner of his mouth with a napkin before fixing his gaze on Draven, "how do you intend to deal with the council?"
Draven did not look up from his plate. He cut into his food calmly, unhurried, as though the question concerned the weather.
"I haven’t decided," he replied, and redith, sitting beside him, felt the shift in the air imdiately.
Randall did not like that answer. "You haven’t decided?" he repeated, his tone asured but edged. "The coronation is at stake, Draven. This is not sothing you delay."
Draven finally set his fork down, but he still did not grant his father a glance.
"I said I haven’t decided," he answered casually. "And I would prefer to enjoy my breakfast without pressure."
The audacity of it made Dennis pause mid-bite.
Randall’s jaw tightened. "You are too stubborn," he said after a mont, shaking his head once.
Draven did not respond. He simply resud eating, and the rest of the table followed suit, no one daring to reopen the topic.
redith kept her composure, though she could sense Randall studying them both. He was looking for cracks. And he would find none.
Breakfast ended without further confrontation.
Randall rose first. Draven stood next, then redith. The three of them exited the dining hall together, an image of unity to anyone watching.
Outside, the cars were already lined up along the front courtyard. Engines idled. Warriors stood by.
Randall headed toward the first vehicle without another word and entered it smoothly.
Draven opened the door of the second car for redith. She stepped in without hesitation.
A second later, he joined her. Then the doors shut almost simultaneously.
The car engines roared, and the convoy set off from the Oatrun estate together, heading towards the council chamber.
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