CHAPTER 10 : EXILE

The words wouldn’t stop echoing in Lyria’s mind. HE KNOWS YOU. She stared at the note until her eyes started to burn. The message sat right there on her desk, picked out by lantern light, while rain battered the palace windows. Thunder rumbled through the mountains—none of it as unsettling as the symbol below the words. A black crescent moon with a vertical s***h. She’d seen it before, inside Selene’s hidden chest. The same symbol that made Nyra lash out, wild and scared. Someone wanted her to see it. Someone wanted her to understand. The problem? She didn’t. Not yet. The servant girl was gone. Dead. She’d risked everything just to warn Lyria, and all she left behind was this cryptic message. “He knows you.” Who exactly? The hooded stranger? The man in Selene’s chambers? Or someone else entirely? Every answer spun up more questions. A sharp knock tore through the silence. Lyria looked up just in time for the door to swing open. Three royal guards marched in, faces bleak and rigid. Not the sort who bring good news. The captain stepped forward. “Lady Lyria.” Her title felt colder than ever. “The Alpha has summoned you.” She got to her feet, and honestly, she already knew nothing ahead would help her. The storm outside seemed to get angrier as she walked with the guards through the palace. Tonight, the halls felt narrower and meaner. Whispers clung to her. Servants stopped talking. Nobles watched her pass. There was not a single smile, not a word of support. Fifteen years. That’s how long she’d served. And this—this chilly silence—was her parting gift. It hurt, yeah. But she wasn’t even surprised. Betrayal felt almost familiar. The guards stopped outside the council chamber. The doors were wide open. Inside, a crowd waited. Not just the council—elders, war captains, nobles, even ordinary wolves crowded in. Word had gotten out. This wasn’t a private meeting; this was public judgment. Or maybe something worse—a public execution of her reputation. She stepped in, and the room fell quiet. Everyone stared. The place buzzed with suspicion, curiosity, disappointment, and outright contempt. Hardly anyone looked sympathetic. Still, Lyria forced herself to stand tall. If they were going to watch her fall, she wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing her crumble. At the center sat Kael. Next to him: Selene. It was still jarring—the Luna’s seat, her seat, now occupied by someone else. Selene had a concerned, sympathetic look plastered on her face. Lyria almost snorted. The game never ended with that one. Kael’s expression? Blank. That hurt most. Once, she could read every flicker of emotion on his face. Now, nothing. The Alpha stood, and his voice filled the chamber. “This council has concluded its investigation.” A knot twisted in Lyria’s stomach. She knew what was coming, but hearing it out loud still felt brutal. “Evidence confirms that treasury funds were withdrawn under Lady Lyria Nightbane’s authorization.” Murmurs rippled through the crowd. She stayed silent. The evidence was a lie. Anyone could copy her signature, but nobody cared. The story mattered more than the truth. “The investigation also found irregularities in several council decisions made during her tenure as Luna.” Whispers again. Judging looks and accusations. The charges piled up, all crafted to make her look corrupt, dangerous—a villain. Lyria scanned the crowd. No one questioned the evidence. No one stepped up for her. Not even Talia, her former friend, who sat near the back, avoiding her gaze. Something inside Lyria broke. Not dramatically, not in tears. It just snapped—quiet and final. Hope faded away. She stood alone. Kael looked right at her now, eyes unreadable. “Do you have anything to say in your defense?” His question echoed. Every eye was on her. Waiting. Judging. Lyria stepped forward, heart steady. She felt calm—almost strange, but she understood now: nothing she said would change a thing. The verdict was decided before she walked in. This hearing was just for show. Still, she spoke. Not for them, but for herself. “I am innocent.” Silence. “I never stole from this pack.” Nothing. “I never betrayed this pack.” Still nothing. “I gave fifteen years of my life to protect you all.” Her eyes swept the room. “I fought for you.” Silence. “I bled for you.” Still silence. “I sacrificed for you.” Everyone looked away. The lack of support felt louder than any accusation. Lyria looked at Kael, one last time—a final chance, a last hope. “You know me.” Her voice came out softer now, raw. “You know who I am.” The chamber stilled. For a second, something flickered across Kael’s face: doubt, regret, pain. But then it disappeared, replaced by that mask of authority. He’d let her go. She saw it. Kael took a slow breath, then pronounced sentence. “Effective immediately, Lyria Nightbane is stripped of all remaining authority.” Gasps rippled through the crowd. Everyone expected it, but the finality stung. Kael kept going. “Her position within the pack is revoked. Her council privileges are revoked. Her lands are seized. Her titles are removed. Her authority is terminated.” Each word landed like a hammer. No hesitation, no mercy. Everything she’d built, earned, become—gone. He wasn’t done. “Lyria Nightbane is sentenced to permanent exile.” The room exploded in whispers and shock. Even some elders looked rattled. Exile meant abandonment, isolation, and—let’s be honest—probably death. Most wolves didn’t last long alone, outside pack territory. Lyria felt the world tilt, not from fear, but disbelief. Kael had actually done it. The man she loved for fifteen years had banished her. No evidence. No trust. Something cold settled inside her. Not heartbreak anymore—something stronger. Acceptance. The hearing ended fast. No more to say. The council rubber-stamped the sentence. The crowd broke up, whispering and pointing, but it all felt distant. Muted. Unreal. She returned to her chambers under guard—no longer Luna, not even a respected member. Just a criminal. An exile. One hour. That’s what they gave her to pack up fifteen years of her life. It felt deliberate, cruel. She moved like a machine. Grabbing necessities, ignoring the memories, shoving away the pain threatening to swallow her. At her desk, she stopped. Her mother’s journal stayed. The warning notes stayed. The symbol, the mystery, the unanswered questions—those stayed too. If the pack wouldn’t let her clear her name, she’d do it herself. Somehow, she knew: the truth was out there. And someone was terrified she’d find it. The hour vanished. Guards walked her down to the main gates, where the whole palace seemed to have gathered, watching. Waiting. Enjoying the spectacle—the fallen Luna, the disgrace, the exile. She kept walking. Head high, back straight, no tears. She wouldn’t give them that satisfaction. The gates loomed ahead. Darkness lay beyond—unknown roads, dangers she couldn’t name, a future nobody could predict. Weirdly, she felt lighter with each step. Because this place wasn’t home anymore. A movement caught her eye. Selene stepped forward—the new Luna: graceful, beautiful, perfect. Everyone expected her to show kindness, maybe mercy. Instead, Selene hugged her. The gesture shocked the crowd. Gasps everywhere—what a generous Luna. Lyria almost laughed. Only she could hear what Selene whispered, soft and almost loving, right in her ear: “You’re exactly where I want you.” Lyria froze. Ice flooded her veins. The hug was brief—then Selene stepped back, smiling sweetly, as if comforted her. Nobody suspected. Nobody saw the triumph burning in her eyes. Nobody except Lyria. For the first time, Lyria felt sure. Selene was involved. Maybe not in everything, but in something—something dark, dangerous, powerful enough to destroy her. The gates creaked open, iron groaning. The wilderness waited outside. Lyria glanced back—one last look at her former pack, at Kael, at everyone she’d fought for. Then she turned, and walked through the gates. The doors slammed behind her.