Chapter 168

By the time we reached the plaza, the crowd had already begun to form. First hundreds, then thousands, pack members of every rank and region pressed shoulder to shoulder in the morning light. Some stood on benches or stone ledges, while others clutched phones and radios. The sky above was cloudless and tense, as if it understood what this moment was meant to carry.

Security had swept the perimeter three times before I arrived. Four individuals had already been detained, each one disguised with scent-masking salves that didn’t hold up under scrutiny.

One carried a microtone bead fused with a corrosion core. Another had tucked a coded drone key into the seam of his boot. They were intercepted before they got within ten feet of the crowd. A fifth was caught trying to slip past the relay gate with a burner scanner and a concealed signal scrambler tucked into the lining of his jacket. He didn’t make it to the second checkpoint.

The platform was set with deliberate simplicity. There was only a single podium, with no banners, no orchestration, and no slogans. Just the seal of the Unified Pack behind us and a livestream feed broadcasting from every allied region. A row of muted monitors displayed all eleven major territories. I stood behind the curtain, heart pounding so hard I could feel it in my fingertips, aware that every word I spoke would be archived, analyzed, and dissected in real time.

Simon gave the final nod. "You’re clear. They’re ready."

Emma adjusted my mic and gave my shoulder a quick squeeze. "Lead with the protections. Then give them what they need to feel safe. Don’t let the silence throw you. Silence is still listening."

Richard caught my hand before I stepped out, just for a second. His thumb pressed briefly against the inside of my wrist, grounding me. He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to.

I stepped out alone.

The crowd didn’t cheer or boo. They just watched, eyes fixed on me as I crossed to the podium and placed both hands on the wood. A gust of wind swept across the plaza, lifting strands of my hair and making my blazer ripple slightly at the hem.

I took a breath and began.

"As of today, refugee protections are expanded to include all regional borders. No Pack member, bonded or rogue, will be turned away from our gates without hearing. Mixed patrols will begin rotation this week, drawing from volunteer lists across three territories. Each joint unit will operate with full authority and mutual command."

There was movement in the crowd, quiet murmurs and shifting feet, but no surge of panic or resistance.

"Relay maps will be published tonight. Every checkpoint, safehouse, and rest node between the Eastern Range and our territory line will be logged, reviewed, and made accessible. No one will be left wandering in the dark."

A man in the second row lowered his hood. His mate beside him blinked back tears and touched his arm.

"We cannot claim unity unless we build it with our own hands. That begins now."

I paused, just long enough to let the silence deepen, and stepped back.

Richard joined me at the podium. His eyes met mine for the briefest moment. I could tell he was checking, making sure I was still steady.

He didn’t clear his throat or glance at the monitors. He kept his gaze forward and his voice level.

"The sabotage network has been fully mapped. We discovered the first resonance interference six weeks ago and tracked it through split clappers, tone beads, and rooftop emitters disguised as ward amplifiers. Every component was designed to fracture our control and blame it on instability."

He let the words settle.

"Each purchase traces back to shell firms linked to campaign accounts under David's camp."

The murmurs turned sharp. Outrage rippled across the assembly like static.

"The investigation packet will be made available to the public tonight. It includes names, transaction dates, and full financial records. We are not speculating. We are exposing."

The platform felt heavier beneath our feet. Richard turned slightly toward me. The signal.

I stepped forward again, and this time, my voice was clear.

"I was not born in this Pack. I was brought here as a child, without wolf, without family. For years, I believed I had none. But that is no longer the truth."

Behind me, Emma activated the projection. The screen lit up with a high-resolution scan of the Mooncut symbol, its ridges metallic and worn, edges catching the light like a weapon dulled from time.

Then Serena’s portrait appeared, formal but unpolished. She wore a dark blouse and carried a medical bag in one hand. Her eyes were steady, her mouth unsmiling but not cold.

I felt something twist in my gut. The image wasn’t unfamiliar, but it wasn’t comforting either. It looked like a warning of everything I hadn’t known I was carrying.

Then came the charter excerpt, the lines drawn and signed with full council seal, naming her as unifier and naming the possibility of a second heir.

I continued.

"My bloodline is hybrid. My mother was Serena of the Old Court, a nurse in exile who carried the last bondmark of the vampire line. My father was werewolf-born, identity still classified under internal review, but his rank was not low. My existence was not a mistake. It was hidden, and that choice was intentional."

I hesitated, looking at the crowd and trying to read their eyes. Some stared flatly. Others narrowed. A few heads dipped. Most simply waited, neither leaning forward nor stepping back.

"We were going to tell you. We were preparing to. This isn’t a reaction to fear or threat. It is a truth we chose to claim. We waited too long. That was our mistake."

A muscle in my jaw clenched, but I didn’t let it pull me under.

For a long moment, no one in the crowd moved. A child nearby coughed. One woman in a northern patrol cloak wiped at her eyes and shook her head.

Then one of the livestream side screens lit up. A council seal appeared. Then another. Then a third. Allied Packs chimed in one by one, their leaders speaking directly into the feed with pledges of recognition, endorsements of legitimacy, and vows of allegiance. They had received the evidence in advance. They were not reacting. They were affirming.

From the far back of the plaza, just barely visible through the shifting bodies, David appeared, flanked by two legal officers. The crowd parted slightly around them as the base of the broadcast stream updated.

Authority privileges suspended pending inquiry. Security hold placed on all campaign accounts. Investigation ongoing.

I exhaled slowly and took a step back from the podium.

The crowd didn’t scatter or shout or chant. They stood still, quieted by the weight of what they had seen. Many held their breath. A few lowered their heads.

Then, at the far edge of the plaza, a figure began to walk forward. Council Elder Thorne moved deliberately through the crowd until he stood at the base of the platform.

He removed his coat, folded it over one arm, and knelt.

He didn’t lower his eyes. He looked up and raised his voice.

"I was wrong. I did not fear your blood. I feared what it would force us to confront. You’ve shown us how to face it."

The words echoed longer than I expected. I didn’t trust them at first.

Part of me braced. I thought of every threat, every sidelong whisper, every tribunal where I had to defend the right to stay.

From behind him, more movement. One by one, others followed. Former doubters. Mid-ranking officers. One woman with a Council pin I didn’t recognize. They stepped into the clearing and stood or knelt with heads raised.

A young patrol member I vaguely recognized from the northern wall stepped up beside Thorne and knelt, pulling his unit badge from his chest and offering it up, eyes burning.

Someone in the back began to clap. Then another. Then several. It wasn’t explosive or coordinated. It was scattered and raw, but real.

I let the moment settle into the skin of the Pack.

I let them see all of me.