Scent of Proof, Claim of Power

"Here, take these."

I stared at her, confusion clouding my thoughts.

Aurora Frostveil leaned in close, her breath warm against my ear as she whispered, "What you're holding right now are two prime moonroot stalks—the kind that fetch ten thousand marks per half-weight at the healer markets! These two together make a full weight. Take them to the herb traders in the merchant quarter, and if the market favors you, you might even get more than ten thousand marks!"

Aurora wore an expression that suggested I'd just received some tremendous windfall.

When I remained frozen in place, she added, "I don't share treasures like these with just anyone. Only my dearest pack-sister—Lyra Nightshade. Let's put the past behind us, shall we? Consider these moonroots my way of making amends!"

I laughed.

How could we possibly leave the past behind?

Not only would I bring it up—I intended to drag every last detail into the light for all to see.

I pressed down every emotion churning inside me and forced my lips into something resembling a smile.

"Thank you, Alpha."

"What's with the formality! We're pack-sisters, you and I."

Pack-sisters? We were clearly Alpha and subordinate. Nothing more.

Though by next moon-cycle, our positions would be reversed.

I carried the two small moonroot stalks back to my workstation in the Tracker Den.

Rowan Ashclaw, one of my junior scouts, spotted them immediately. His eyes went wide as he approached. "Den-Leader, aren't those the same moonroots you gifted away last moon-cycle?"

He was right. Last month, Aurora's mother Isolde Frostveil had fallen ill—her life-force weakened—and she'd been taken to the healers' sanctuary.

I had personally driven my runner-cart deep into the wild territories, tracking down a mountain herbalist to procure these very stalks.

After considerable haggling, I'd secured both for five hundred marks each.

And now Aurora had returned these same moonroots to me as my seasonal tribute-share, claiming each was worth five thousand marks.

I wanted to laugh. Yet somehow, the laughter wouldn't come.

All these years I'd served the pack with unwavering dedication, never complaining, never asking for recognition. Partly because I needed the ration allotments. But also because I'd believed Aurora and I were true pack-sisters, bound by something deeper than hierarchy.

These two moonroots had just struck me across the face hard enough to leave a mark.

On a working day, during the morning hours, I gathered my belongings and headed straight home.

The Beta Enforcer Marcus Frostveil spotted me leaving. He couldn't stop me, but he made sure to mention he'd be reporting my departure to the Alpha.

Before long, Aurora announced in the pack's message-rune channel: not only would my rations be docked for abandoning my post, but my merit standing would also suffer—for displaying an "uncommitted attitude toward pack duties."

When news of this spread, several of my den-mates immediately spoke up in my defense through the shared channel.

"First she's cheated out of ten thousand marks, and now her merit gets slashed? They really don't see our Den-Leader as anything more than prey!"

"Exactly! This entire year, our Den-Leader has always arrived at first light and left well after moonrise. Even when her own family fell ill, she never requested leave—she'd wait until her duties ended before rushing to the healers' sanctuary."

"Alpha Aurora, aren't you worried this treatment will freeze the hearts of those who've served the pack longest?"

I was just about to urge them to unsend their messages when Aurora activated the voice-rune for the entire channel.

Her fury crackled through the connection. "Den-Leader? It seems none of you understand who truly leads this pack!"

"Lyra Nightshade, you're nothing but a minor captain of the Tracker Den. Is this how you teach your subordinates to behave? Do you have any respect left for me as your Alpha?"

"This territory bears the Frostveil name. It was built entirely with Frostveil resources! I see now that you've all forgotten your place in the hierarchy. Effective immediately, the Tracker Den is disbanded. Lyra, you wanted to abandon your post? Fine—then never return!"

I didn't even have a chance to speak.

Aurora expelled me and everyone under my command from the pack's communication channel.

A private message from Marcus Frostveil arrived moments later.

"Lyra Nightshade, even though you completed twenty working days this moon-cycle, your abandonment of post today means your entire monthly ration is forfeit. Don't bother coming to the Central Den for formal release procedures—you've been banished."

Reading those words, I allowed myself a quiet smile.

They say the Discipline Keeper is nothing but the Alpha's loyal hound.

Once next moon-cycle arrives and I become Alpha, I'll be curious to see whose command that hound answers to then.

After the Tracker Den was dissolved, Aurora refused to offer any compensation. Instead, she withheld the ration allotments owed to every single one of us.