BLEEDING FOR THE CROWN
Izel
Izel stalks through the eastern corridor, fury rolling off her in waves strong enough to curdle the air.
The amulet resting against her heart burns a fiery red.
Her claws threaten to pierce her gloves.
Every servant she passes flattens themselves to the walls, eyes down, ears pinned. No one dares breathe too loudly.
Kade’s words still ring in her head. You’ve caused enough disorder. Dismissed. In front of the entire pack. Before guards, elders—before that bitch Freya.
Her jaw aches from clenching. The sapphire gleam of that cursed diadem still burns behind her eyelids. Freya had walked into court like she owned the Moon itself. And the pack had watched her—listened to her. Even Kade hadn’t stopped her.
Izel reaches the spiral stairway leading to the old council wing. She takes the steps two at a time, skirts whispering like angry ghosts. At the end of the corridor, heavy oak doors guard Elder Thane’s study. The scent of parchment and ale leaks through the crack.
She doesn’t knock. She shoves them open.
Elder Thane looks up from his desk. “Lady Izel,” he says, voice smooth as oil. “I heard there was… excitement in the court today.”
“Mockery,” she snaps. “Freya humiliated me before the entire pack. Kade stripped me of my title, refused to defend me.”
Thane leans back in his chair, hands steepled. “And what is it you want from me?”
“I want justice,” she hisses. “The High Council must see what she’s done—what she’s become. The envoy was a fucking disappointment.”
“Justice,” he repeats softly. “Or vengeance?”
Izel’s lips curl. “Both.” She draws a scroll from her sleeve, already inked with her formal petition. “I invoke Section Twelve of the Luna Charter. I request a Competency Trial.”
Thane’s brows rise. “A dangerous path. You would pit yourself against the true Luna before the High Council? Especially after knowing she bears the High Luna’s mark? That is a blood sport.”
“Let her bleed for her crown,” Izel says. “I will burn her with my fire. I will call upon my ancestors. I will siphon their powers and tear her apart.”
Thane studies her for a long moment. Then he smiles. “Very well. I will deliver your petition myself.”
As she turns to leave, his voice follows her. “Be certain you can survive what you’ve begun, Lady Izel. The Moon has a cruel sense of fairness.”
“I’ve never bowed,” she says without looking back. “I survive. Always. Like everyone in my family before me did.”
The doors close behind her with a heavy thud, echoing through the halls like the toll of a distant war drum.