The council chamber did not empty quietly.

Wolves filtered out with snarls under their breath, claws clicking against stone as the weight of Elaria’s decree rippled through the fortress like wildfire. Her words—sharp, irrevocable—hung in the air like blood in the water. She had invoked the healer’s right, the oldest law of survival, and by doing so she had bought Draven time… but she had also painted a target on her own back.

Eyes had turned on her with suspicion, with disbelief, ...