The Rejected Mate (Elaine and Michael) novel Chapter 123

The council murmurs among themselves, voices low but urgent, like the distant rumble of thunder across a storm-dark horizon. The heavy stone walls of the hall seem to absorb and echo every fragment of sound, trapping the tension inside like a beast pacing in a cage. Torches flicker against the carved pillars, their flames bending under the weight of alpha energy and frayed emotions.

Wolves shift uneasily, claws clicking on the marble floor. Some whisper behind hands. Others stand perfectly still, rigid as statues, afraid that even the smallest movement might ripple the fragile silence and unleash chaos again.

Darius remains kneeling beside Nathan, his broad shoulders forming a protective shelter around the boy. One large hand rests on Nathan’s small shoulder, grounding him. Elaine pulls their son closer, her arm firm but tender as she cradles him against her side. Nathan leans into her, wide eyes darting between the council, the unconscious wolf on the floor, and the four disgraced elders about to face judgment.

Michael lies unmoving on the cold stone, his head resting on Kathy’s lap. Her trembling fingers trace gently along his brow, brushing away dirt and dried blood. The faint glow of his healing

slowly at work paints his bruises with a dim silver sheen–evidence that his wolf still fights to mend the damage. His chest rises shallowly, a fragile rhythm that keeps Kathy clinging to hope.

Finally–Rowan rises.

The room falls into absolute silence. A silence so complete it rings in the ears.

Even the torches seem to freeze, their flames stilled as if the air itself holds its breath.

Rowan steps into the center of the council hall. His black council cloak drags behind him across the polished floor like a moving shadow, swallowing the light wherever it passes. His eyes sweep over every face–commanding, assessing, unblinking. This is not just a councilman speaking. It is a judge of their world, a man who has stared down alphas gone feral, who has settled blood feuds centuries old. A man who does not bend beneath pressure.

When he finally speaks, his voice slices through the silence, sharp and steady.

“The council has reached a decision.”

A hush sweeps through the hall, deeper and heavier than before.

Efrein, Beatrice, Richard, and Lucille stand side–by–side. No armor of rank. Nothing to shield them but their own remorse and stubborn pride. Their eyes–once bright with authority–are now dimmed, stripped bare. They stand not as leaders, but as individuals whose choices have unraveled everything around them.

Rowan nods to the guards posted near the pillars. They step forward–not with weapons drawn, not in threat, but in silent readiness. A reminder. A boundary. A promise that the council’s judgment will be carried out.

Rowan turns back to the four offenders.

“Former Alpha Efrein. Former Luna Beatrice. Former Beta Richard. Former Beta Female Lucille.”

He draws out the titles slowly–former, each time, landing like a hammer blow.

Several wolves flinch.

“In deliberating your punishment,” Rowan continues, “the council considered the gravity of your actions. Your interference with the natural order of fated mates has caused not only emotional devastation but physical, mental, and spiritual harm to multiple wolves.”

He lets the words sink in.

“Your decisions nearly cost the Silverblade Pack the life of its Alpha-” his eyes flick meaningfully to Michael’s unconscious form, “-and endangered a child.”

Quiet murmurs rise behind him, an undercurrent of agreement swelling like a tide ready to crash.

“But,” Rowan goes on, his gaze turning colder, sharper, “the council also recognizes that your actions, are severe and deserve a harsh punishment. But because Luna Elaine requested a more merciful judgment, it prevents the harshest sentence.”

The hall ripples with surprise. Wolves glance at Elaine, some respectful, some confused. They heard Rowan mentioned earlier of Luna Elaine showing restraint on their punishment. They still couldn’t believe the council will honor it.

Elaine holds Nathan a little tighter, but her expression is unreadable–calm, controlled, soft around her son, hard around the truth of what was done to her.

Beatrice’s shoulders sag in relief. Lucille closes her eyes, whispering something that might be a prayer. Richard exhales shakily, while Efrein–always proud–tries to hold himself tall. But the tremor in his jaw betrays his breaking facade.

Rowan steps closer.

“You are hereby stripped of all ranks and privileges in the Silverblade Pack. Effective immediately.”

A wave of shock rolls through the crowd.

“You will retain your wolf form. You will retain your lives,” Rowan states. “But your authority, influence, and roles within pack leadership are dissolved. This means you will never be recognized as former pack leaders but as an ordinary pack members.”

His voice hardens even further.

“Furthermore, due to the instability your continued presence near the pack house may cause- emotionally and politically–you are restricted from entering the primary territory of the Silverblade Pack.”

Gasps echo throughout the room. Darius’s brows draw together in agreement, though he remains silent.

“You will reside,” Rowan continues, “in the eastern settlement. The old patrol sector near the forest ridge.”

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