Nyx
The Council is restless again. I can feel it in the air before the meeting even starts. That stale, heavy quiet filled with judgment disguised as tradition. The kind that suffocates more than it speaks. They’re all sitting there when I walk in.
Old faces, older fears. The Council Chamber smells like cold marble and political rot. Cameras hum quietly from the corners. Live feed for the networks. I can already imagine the hashtags waiting to be born. Kaelen stands at my back as always, silent and steady.
“Alpha Nyx,” Elder Marrow begins, voice slick as oil. “There are growing concerns about… perception.” I fight the urge to roll my eyes. There it is. The word. Perception. Not truth, not strength. Perception. They wanted me to pick Orion.
“Whose perception? Yours? The packs’? Or the
