Chapter 10
Daniel
A few weeks had passed since the spectacle at his office, and nothing else had happened.
No more summons from the Council. No demands from Claudia. Nothing.
It was unnerving.
Daniel was on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop. He wasn’t na?ve enough to think the alpha-vixen had given up her claim on his mate and their son.
Toby had been a little ray of sunshine—well, when he wasn’t causing chaos. Daniel had given up trying to tidy away all the craft supplies, and he was pretty sure the green paint stain on the cream rug was permanent.
Even with his life turned upside down, he wouldn’t change a single thing.
Although life with an overexcited dog slobbering on his clothes he could do without. Still, Barney was harmless—or mostly harmless—just as long as you weren’t a newspaper or the mailman.
Daniel was just finishing his cup of coffee, preparing to head to the office, when the summons arrived.
Not a clerk this time—oh no.
This time it was the court’s bailiff.
They escorted him from his house like a criminal, driving him straight to the Pack Council chambers. He’d barely had time to grab his jacket, let alone his phone, before he was standing in front of a line of Elders seated atop a curved dais.
Claudia sat beside her legal advisor, looking regal—head held high, dressed head to toe in designer clothes, not a hair out of place.
Clearly, she’d been given more notice than he had.
It was a low tactic. Summoning him like a rogue. As if his bond was some back-alley ritual scraped from the bottom of an archaic text.
Claudia’s voice lanced through the chamber—slick, venomous.
A self-supercilious smirk curled her lips while her legal team lobbied the Elders.
The weasel-faced lawyer’s beady eyes darted around the room as he struggled to recite his argument, before pulling a slip of paper from his jacket pocket and reading aloud:
“He invoked the Hollow Moon Rite without Council witness or formal registry. That bond is spiritually invalid. I move to nullify it under Clause 4, Subsection B of the Eldritch Obsolescence Statute!”
Whispers rippled through the chamber. Elders leaned in. One shuffled parchment. Another rolled their eyes like age had worn their patience thin.
Daniel understood how that felt.
But this—this was what he was best at.
He was certain that the law favored him. He just needed to prove it.
Stepping forward, prepared to plead his case, his boots echoed louder than Claudia’s fury. Matthew sat in the back, hands folded, face unreadable, with Grady next to him.
“With respect,” Daniel said, “Subsection B doesn’t nullify rites. It reclassifies them.”
Claudia twisted toward him, a look of hate etched on her face.
“Reclassified as ceremonial only. Not legally binding,” her legal advisor pressed.
“Incorrect.”
Daniel lifted the scroll Keiran had left with him, bound in storm-thread and truth.
“Clause 4, Subsection B states that any ritual performed under lunar protocol and ancestral conditions—even if obsolete—remains binding if not repealed by Council decree.”
He stepped closer, voice colder than the biting wind outside.
“And no decree was issued. The bond stands.”
Silence.
He could feel her rage cresting behind him.
The Elders glanced at each other. One—Elder Mira—spoke.
“Does the record confirm lunar alignment?”
He nodded once. “December 15th. Ten years ago. Full moon. Blood match. Flame vow.”
Elder Stirling raised a brow. “Witnesses?” she asked.
“None,” he said. “As per Hollow Moon tradition. But the bond registered an ether flare—minor, but traceable.”
Claudia hissed.
Daniel couldn’t help but feel a little spark of satisfaction at her reaction.
“So you expect us to honor a gutter-light memory? You defied tradition, concealed the rite, and manipulated an omega for emotional leverage!”
The question—and the rage behind it—wasn’t unexpected, coming from an Elder representing the Silverspire Collective.
Daniel turned.
Not to the Elders.
But to Matthew.
“Did I manipulate you?” he asked quietly.
Matthew met his eyes—steady, scorched—but still standing.
“No,” he said. “You offered. I chose you.”
His words cut deeper than Claudia’s accusations, stripping Daniel bare—and swaddling him in comfort.
“Thank you. That will be all. The Elders will now retire to their chambers to consider their verdict. We are adjourned until then.”
It was official—the coffee at the courthouse was by far the worst he’d ever tasted.
In fact, sewer water would probably taste better.
Okay, maybe not. But still, if the Council’s goal was to subdue plaintiffs by poisoning, they were on the right track.
Grady, tired of his whining, had gone in search of a proper coffee shop, while Matthew sat quietly reading a tatty magazine left on a bench.
It had been hours.
What was taking so long?
When he’d spoken to Keiran, Daniel had been sure this was an open-and-shut case. But with Elders on the Council clearly aligned with Claudia, he couldn’t be too sure.
Just as he was starting to wonder if they should head home, the court assistant waved them back inside—Grady hot on their heels, coffees in hand.
As before, the Council was seated on their dais. Elder Mira cast a sweeping look around the room before standing.
“Hollow Moon is outmoded. Controversial. But it is the law. Unless evidence of coercion is found…”
Her gaze swept over them. A small, tight smile graced her lips.
“…the bond remains recognized.”
Claudia shrieked. “This council is blind!”
“Silence, or I will hold you in contempt! This is the finding of the court, and you will abide by it, Ms. Hamilton. Court is dismissed.”
One by one, the Council rose and retired from the room.
“I’m not listening to any more of this!” Claudia snapped, rising from her seat to storm out —
Only to be faced with a jubilant Grady, who threw his hands in the air, whooping. Showering her with coffee.
“Oops! Sorry, not sorry,” he muttered.
Claudia shoulder-checked him out of the way, gnashing her teeth, her heels clacking furiously across the ancient stone.