Chapter 2: The Eagle's Judgment

We reached the gathering grounds at the summit. Captain Vanya stepped into the center of the clearing, gravel crunching under her combat boots.

"Accompanied families, take your positions behind the perimeter line," her voice carried over the gale, flat and militaristic. "Do not interfere once the evaluation begins."

Behind us, the spectators moved into place.

Mothers straightened their woolen coats, laughing softly among themselves. Fathers stood tall, arms crossed over broad chests, their expressions eager. They looked like spectators waiting for a parade to start, completely blind to the fact that they were offering their daughters to an auction block.

"Formation," Vanya barked. "Half-moon."

We moved into place, forming a rigid arc along the chalk line painted into the dirt.

Beside me, Nadine nervously smoothed the front of her slip, her fingers twitching against the sheer fabric.

"I'm so nervous," she murmured, barely loud enough for the wind to carry.

"Don't be," Gwen whispered from my other side. She stared straight ahead, a glassy, practiced smile on her lips. "Think about the estate. The Alphas will be waiting. Strong, powerful... ready to choose us. It’s an honor to be hunted."

I looked at Gwen, but said nothing.

She had applied a swipe of smuggled cherry gloss to her lips—a reckless violation of the strict no-adornment rule. Her mind was already lost to the fairytale the elders had spent eighteen years feeding us. There was no reasoning with a girl who mistook a slaughterhouse for romance.

A sharp, rhythmic tap echoed across the clearing.

The quiet chatter along the perimeter died instantly.

Lady Vane rounded the side of the wooden pavilion. She wore tight black leather—a high-collared corset cinched tight at her waist and fitted trousers tucked into knee-high boots. Her dark hair was pulled into a severe braid that reached the small of her back.

In her right hand, she carried an eagle-headed cane. The polished silver beak glinted under the red moon.

She didn't smile. She didn't have to. The absolute authority of the Council radiated from her with every measured stride.

"Good evening, girls," she said, her voice smooth and perfectly modulated. "The Alphas have traveled a great distance tonight. Let us see if you are worthy of their chase."

Beside her, Captain Vanya lifted a heavy silver chalice filled with folded slips of parchment.

Vanya dipped her gloved hand inside, letting the tension stretch until the wind seemed to hold its breath.

"Clara Belmont."

Clara stiffened. She stepped forward three paces, stopping in the loose dirt.

Lady Vane approached her without haste. She stopped an arm's length away, her dark eyes scanning Clara with the cold assessment of a livestock buyer.

With a swift motion, Lady Vane brought the cane up. The silver eagle beak hooked beneath Clara’s chin, forcing her head back until her neck was completely bared.

"Eyes forward," Lady Vane instructed.

Clara held her gaze, her breath coming in shallow, rapid bursts.

Lady Vane lowered the cane, dragging the cold metal down Clara’s collarbone. The silver drifted past her waist, tapping Clara’s hip before suddenly driving the blunt tip hard into her side.

Clara gasped, doubling over from the sudden impact.

Instinct took over. Clara’s eyes flashed a fierce, luminous amber, and a low, warning snarl broke past her lips as her inner wolf snapped to the surface to defend itself.

Lady Vane didn't flinch. She simply retracted the cane and nodded once to Vanya.

"Seven," Lady Vane said.

Across the perimeter, Clara’s mother broke into polite applause, beaming as if her daughter had just won an academic prize.

Vanya moved in instantly. She caught Clara by the elbows, spun her around, and bound her wrists with thick, coarse rope. Clara’s golden eyes faded back to brown, her posture slumping in quiet resignation as she was led toward the transport trucks.

She had passed the threshold. Her fate was sealed.

Lady Vane wiped the tip of her cane with a dark handkerchief, tucking the cloth into her sleeve before turning back to the formation.

She didn't wait for Vanya to draw another name. Instead, she walked down the curve of the arc, her boots pacing slowly until she came to a halt.

Directly in front of Faye.

Faye stood with her chin lifted, but her fingers were trembling against the seams of her dress.

My childhood friend. The girl who had shared my bread, who had hidden in the pines with me when the elders preached their lies. Faye was the only girl in our generation born without a wolf. A biological anomaly. In this pack, an anomaly was a death sentence.

Lady Vane didn't raise the cane. She didn't test Faye’s reflexes. She simply stared, her expression entirely blank.

"Shift," Lady Vane commanded.

The clearing went utterly still.

Even the wind seemed to drop away, leaving only the distant rustle of pine needles.

On the sidelines, Faye’s parents stood shoulder to shoulder. Her mother pressed a handkerchief to her mouth, her knuckles white. Her father stared straight ahead, his posture stiff as stone. They knew what was coming. Everyone on this cliff knew.

Faye swallowed, the sound harsh in the quiet.

"I can't," Faye whispered.

Lady Vane’s brow arched a fraction of an inch. "Louder."

"I can't, my lady," Faye said, her voice cracking slightly. "I have no wolf."

Lady Vane didn't deliver a lecture. She didn't scold her for wasting the Council's time.

In one fluid, merciless arc, the eagle cane whipped sideways.

The heavy silver head struck Faye across the cheekbone. The sound of metal meeting bone cracked like dry firewood.

Faye crashed to the dirt, curling on her side as blood welled across her cheek.

"Unfit," Lady Vane said, her voice dropping into cold dismissal. "Dispose of her."

Two armored guards broke from the perimeter, their heavy strides closing the distance. They hauled Faye up by her arms, lifting her feet clean off the gravel.

"Mom! Dad! Please!" Faye cried, kicking wildly at the air. "Please help me!"

Her voice echoed down the rock face, raw and desperate.

Along the perimeter line, her parents didn't move. Her father’s fingers twitched against his coat, but he held his ground. Under pack law, interfering with an evaluation was treason, punishable by the slaughter of the entire bloodline.

They stood there, silent and motionless, letting their daughter be dragged into the shadows of the tree line.

Faye's cries grew fainter as the guards pushed deeper into the dark timber. Then the woods swallowed the sound entirely.

My feet remained planted on the frozen rock.

Every instinct screamed to break formation, to tear after those guards, to drag Faye back into the light. But logic was a heavier chain. One false step, one growl of defiance, and the enforcers would turn their sights on Elsie. My sister’s survival depended on my silence tonight.

I kept my chin level. I kept my breathing steady.

Down the line, the soft, rhythmic clicking resumed.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Lady Vane turned back to the half-moon of trembling girls. Her dark eyes swept over the remaining tributes, searching for the next flaw, the next prize.

The shadow of her leather coat fell across my feet.

The eagle-headed cane stopped on the gravel, its silver beak pointing directly at my toes.

"Next," Lady Vane murmured.