"She killed her husband," one of the elders on the council said coldly.
A young woman sat at the center of the chamber, her head bowed, golden-blonde hair falling over her face, concealing her expression. Her hands were clenched into tight fists, pressing into the fabric of her white gown as her almond-shaped hazel eyes stared downward.
She sat silently before the council—men and women all above the age of thirty-five, believed to be wiser and more experienced in handling such delicate matters.
They were discussing the death of her husband—or now ex—Mr. Frederick.
Another elder spoke up. "So, what are we going to do about the burial? He wasn't even from a wealthy home, and they're struggling financially. They haven't even paid off the debt from their church wedding."
Ariana's lips quivered as she sat motionless. Her heart pounded, her breath uneven. She tried desperately to maintain her composure.
'How long could she hold it in the pain the embarrassment?'
Her husband had died on the day of their wedding.
It was a tragic event—he had gone to a nearby store to get her flowers, a simple act of love, and never returned. The accident had shocked everyone. But the weight of the truth pressing on Ariana's chest was even heavier.
That evening, when he left, she had been planning to confess something to him—that she was pregnant with another man's…child.
Ariana also lived with a condition that made her voice a fragile thing. At thirteen, she'd been diagnosed with a rare illness that made speaking nearly impossible. The most she could manage was a faint whisper, but even that felt like being strangled from the inside. Her throat would close up, tighten, and threaten to steal what breath she had left.
Since then, she had stopped trying. Sign language had become her only voice. Her doctor had warned her: if she strained her voice again, she might lose it completely.
As the elders continued their discussion, one of them asked impatiently, "How are we supposed to know what really happened if she can't even speak?"
"She could write it down," another voice offered.
But a third scoffed, sarcastic and dismissive, "And how many hours do you think that would take? Please, we do not have such time to waste."
'Waste…' Ariana repeated in her head in disbelief as she gritted her teeth tightly.
The words stung like ice against her skin. Ariana sat trembling, unable to defend herself. She didn't know how the rumors had spread—how they had turned against her so quickly—but it felt like knives from every direction. Her silence, once a survival tactic, had become ammunition used to mock and accuse her.
A single tear slipped down her cheek.
She bit her lip hard, trying not to break.
'Not in front of them…hold it in a little longer'
Her thought whispered to her.
And all around her, they blamed her—for her husband's death, for her silence, for simply existing.
"How sure are you she killed him? Were you even there when it happened?" a lady spoke.
The room grew tense.
Shame burned in her chest.
Because of her situation, her father—once a respected member of the Council of Elders—had been disgraced. Not only had she been shamed in front of the entire council, but he had been stripped of his position.
They had said, "If a man cannot lead his own household, how can he guide the community?"
And just like that, he was no longer fit to be a councilor.
Ariana realized that instead of bringing happiness to her loved ones, all she ever brought was sorrow. Just like her ex-husband had died because of her, so had her mother.
If you asked her father, he would say that her inability to speak was a curse from the Moon Goddess. Her mother had died the day she rushed to the hospital to get medication for Ariana's condition, which had worsened to the extent her neck swelled. On her way back, she was involved in a brutal accident. She never made it home.
It haunted Ariana—how both deaths had mirrored each other.
What could she do?
The worst part was finding out she was pregnant the day before her wedding. She had planned to tell her father also, to explain everything. But that same day, her father broke the news that she was to be married the very next morning.
In their community, men paid a bride price—a symbolic gesture, money and goods given to the bride's family to show they could care for her. But in Ariana's case, things were different. Her father owed money to Mr. Frederick's parents, and allowing Ariana to marry Frederick meant the debt would be cleared. No bride price. No more burden on the family.
So, Ariana had agreed to the marriage—not out of love, but out of guilt. She wanted to ease her father's troubles.
If only she had known… marrying Frederick would only make things worse.
She was pregnant with another man's child. She and Frederick had never even consummated the marriage.
No one beneath her status would believe her now.
A lady then spoke. "So what are we going to do? Who is the father of the child she's carrying?"
There was another long pause as an elder spoke "I don't think we can handle this situation here. She must be taken to the Alpha King for punishment."
The words struck like lightning.
Ariana's body froze.
Her twin sister, Ava—who was unnaturally obsessed with the Alpha King—had told her about him, their father also had warned them. Even though Ariana had never seen him, the rumors were enough. Terrifying, cruel, and merciless. The Alpha King was known as the most brutal man alive.
Even her father, normally stern and composed, stiffened at the mention of the name. Everyone in the room seemed to stop breathing.
Punishment from the Alpha King didn't mean justice—it meant agony. Ariana was sure that even the fact that she was pregnant wouldn't stop him. He wouldn't care. She would still be punished.
Her hands trembled violently as she raised her head. Slowly, she clasped her hands together in front of her chest. Her body quaked as she tried to rise to her feet.
She would not let her unborn baby suffer—the little child had done nothing wrong. If they wanted to punish her, at least let them do it after the birth.
"Sit before the council!" one of the elders snapped.
But Ariana couldn't. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She lifted her hand, pleading silently—desperately.
It was considered unethical and disrespectful for a person to stand while the council elders were still in session and had not been dismissed.
Then her father roared, "Sit down, Ariana!"
Her whole body flinched.
She shook her head, trembling harder now. She couldn't go to the Alpha King. Anyone but him.
It was better—far better—to be punished by the council than to fall into his hands.
After all… she was already an abomination.
A wolf had given birth to a human.
She was a living taboo. A cursed child.
And if the Alpha King found out… she wouldn't just be punished.
She would be erased.
After a moment of heavy silence, the others finally stood.
"This is disrespectful!" one of the elders barked.
"The Alpha King will be the one who decides your fate. Council dismissed!"
They all nodded, their voices rising in unison.
"Dismissed!"
A man moved, hitting his staff against the table.
One by one, the elders began exiting the chamber—no words, no looks exchanged. That was the rule. Once dismissed, they walked straight out, not acknowledging anyone.
And then… silence.
Ariana stood alone, her face as white as sheet. Her lips began to open and close in shock as she tried to speak—but no sound came. Her eyes welled with tears, but they refused to fall again.
She turned slowly…and froze her father stood before her now.
His eyes were filled with restrained fury.
"Why did you do that, Ariana?" he demanded.
Her lips continued to part as she raised her hand, trembling, and signed with shaky fingers:
Father, I… don't want to go to the Alpha King.
His eyes darkened.
"You don't want to go?" he said sharply. "Then answer the simple question—who is the father?"
Silence.
His voice hardened further.
"For the last time, Ariana—who is the father?"
She hesitated, then slowly signed:
I don't know… Fath—
SMACK.
The sharp sound echoed in the room.
Ariana gasped as her father's hand struck her cheek.
He had never hit her before.
Not once in her life.
And now… he had.
"I give you two days," her father growled, his voice like thunder. "Two days to tell me who the father of that bastard child is that you're carrying."