Free Web NovelChapter 376: Chapter 376 History On Trial
Ethan POV
By afternoon we have settled into the fact that his mating and marking has in fact happened and we are delirious with happiness. The packhouse has been busy, the quiet kind of busy, but also the kind where everyone knows where they are going and what to do. We can almost feel the excitement of the Omegas as we tell them about the plans for tonight. fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm
Right now though, I stand at the head of the council chamber with my hands flat on the table, feeling the weight of what we’re about to do settle fully into my spine.
We call a full Council.
Not a working group, not elders only, not a closed-door compromise, but everyone who has ever hidden behind precedent or tradition when it suited them, everyone who benefited from a story being told one way instead of another.
Allison stands at my side, not behind me, not offset, exactly where she belongs, her posture calm and open, restraint no longer a shield but a choice she’s wielding deliberately. Ezra is to my right, Elijah to my left, both of them steady, present, unflinching, and when the doors close and the wards seal, the sound echoes just enough to make the room pay attention.
Mother is already seated. Not at the dais but among the councilors and that alone shifts the air in the chamber.
I don’t start gently.
"Today," I say, voice carrying without effort, "we are cementing Allison Grey’s position as future Luna of Blue Ridge." A murmur moves through the chamber, sharp and immediate, some startled, some resentful, some relieved, and I let it exist without interruption, because silence isn’t authority, control is.
"This isn’t a vote," I continue, eyes moving deliberately from face to face. "It’s a reckoning."
Councilor Harlan stiffens and Maren’s lips thin. Several elders glance at one another, already recalculating which way the ground is shifting.
I tap Daniel’s tablet once, and the screens along the wall light up.
"What you see here," I say evenly, "is our recorded history. Not all of it. Just the parts you chose to preserve." I gesture, and Daniel scrolls.
Treaties without addenda, lineages without footnotes, alliances summarized into slogans and conflicts described without cause. Pages where dates jump, where names vanish and where decisions are attributed to ’the pack’ instead of the individuals who forced them through.
"This," I say, "is how my father learned what he believes."
Jack’s myth on paper, on screen. For all to see.
Purity, wolves alone. Foxes as opportunists and witches as tolerated tools. A Luna defined by obedience and bloodline instead of leadership and consent. I look directly at the elders who curated it.
"You didn’t lie," I say calmly. "You omitted. And omission shapes belief just as effectively as fabrication."
"This is inflammatory." Harlan rises halfway out of his chair.
"No," I answer without raising my voice. "It’s overdue."
I tap the table again, and more files appear, cross-referenced records from allied packs, royal archives, even our own older ledgers that were quietly reclassified and buried.
"Here’s what you removed," I continue. "Fox-wolf alliances that saved Blue Ridge during famine. Lunas who were not wolves by birth and councils that failed because they refused to adapt. Decisions that cost lives." The room is dead silent now.
Ezra’s presence is a solid heat on my right shoulder and Elijah’s calm steadies my left.
"This curated history," I say, "fed my father’s certainty. It gave him permission to be a purist. And I will not pretend ignorance anymore."
"You’re threatening the stability of the pack." Maren’s voice cuts in, sharp.
I turn to her fully.
"No. I’m threatening your comfort." A few heads lift at that.
"I’m speaking publicly tonight," I say. "At the pack dinner. The entire pack will hear what was hidden and why. They will hear how change was framed as betrayal when it was survival."
Harlan’s face reddens.
"You can’t.."
"I can," I interrupt, still calm. "And I will. So I suggest you get your facts in order, accept the change that’s already happening, or get out of the way." The words land heavy and final. And the room takes in a collective breath.
That’s when mother stands. Not abruptly, not theatrically, but with the quiet certainty of someone who has already decided, and the sound of her chair moving back feels louder than any shout.
"I am stepping back as Luna," she says, and the room jolts as if struck. "Effective immediately." Gasps break the silence as shock ripples outward. She doesn’t look at the councilors, she looks at Allison. Her gaze softening, her small smile kind when her next words isn’t.
"I will not preside over a pack built on fear and curated memory," mother continues. "And I will not stand in the way of what Blue Ridge is becoming." Allison’s breath catches. I feel it beside me.
Mother moves forward, slow and deliberate, and stops in front of Allison, lifting her hands without asking, waiting.
Allison nods.
Mother places her palms lightly at Allison’s temples, her voice steady and clear.
"I initiate you, Allison Grey, as future Luna of Blue Ridge," she says, "with my full faith and blessing." The wards hum, low and unmistakable, recognition rippling through the chamber, and for a heartbeat the world seems to tilt around that truth.
Then she looks at me and I get up. I unlock our sacred cabinet, getting the golden dagger, which is only used when power shifts in a pack. She presents her right palm, Allison mirroring her.
I slice a small cut on both their hands, and mother grabs her hand in hers, speaking the sacred words, not just her blessing, although that is very important.
"Blood to blood I recognize you. Heart to heart I trust you. Soul to soul I support you. A Luna is the mother, and a mother is the backbone of the trust in a pack. I, Luna Ella Blue, hereby place the power, the title and the responsibilities of Luna of Blue Ridge onto Allison Grey, mate of my sons, Alphas Ethan, Alpha Ezra and Alpha Elijah. Marked, mated and accepted. May the moon bless you until the day you take your last breath." Many coloured light swirls around mother and Allison for a moment, and then settles.
Mother nods, letting Allison go and bowing to her. Chairs scrape in the room as all the councilors mirror her. Some with pleased faces, some with anger and some just stand there until everyone settles again after mother sits down.
Allison doesn’t flinch. She stays calm, warm and smiling. She nods to the room, and her aura now matches mine and my brothers. She is a Luna Princess.
When the meeting finally breaks, it does so in fragments, councilors filing out with expressions ranging from stunned to furious to quietly thoughtful, the old order cracking in ways that can’t be repaired with silence anymore.
We regroup in the corridor to plan the pack dinner, voices low but focused, adrenaline still humming under our skin, and for a moment it feels like we might actually make it through this without another explosion.
Then Father steps out of the shadows.
His presence hits like a pressure change, his fury barely contained, eyes locked on Allison with something sharp and dangerous.
"This isn’t over," he snaps. "You think titles and theatrics make you untouchable." He leans in, my brothers moving before I can, putting themselves in front of our mate, and I’m just a step behind them to block her from him. "I’ll destroy you." He screams, his wild eyes taking us in. Her marks, our marks.
That’s when Abigail speaks.
"Absolutely not." She steps out of the side corridor like she’s been there the whole time, arms crossed, expression bored in a way that promises devastation, and father freezes as if he’s just realized who he’s been yelling in front of.
"Alpha Jack of Blue Ridge," Abigail says crisply, "you are hereby stripped of title and authority. Effective immediately." The hallway goes silent except for father’s ragged breath.
"You don’t have that power," father spits.
"I do," Abigail replies pleasantly. "And I’m exercising it." She lifts her hand, magic flaring sharp and clean, and the wards respond instantly.
"You are declared rogue," she continues. "Banished from Blue Ridge lands. Return will be treated as a hostile incursion."
Father turns toward mother, rage and disbelief tangling as she steps up besides Abigail, her eyes showing devastation.
"You’ll let this happen?" He hisses, trying his last chance.
Mother steps forward in front of Abigail, her face pale but resolute.
"I reject you," she says quietly. "As mate. As Alpha. As anything to me."
The bond snap is not loud, but it’s brutal, a sudden vacuum that knocks the breath from her lungs, and mother collapses, knees buckling as the severance tears through her.
Allison is there instantly, arms catching her before she hits the floor, holding her upright as mother gasps, shaking. Elijah and Ezra move with her, standing on either side, one hand on mother’s back, eyes on father’s figure, knowing he is the unpredictable element here.
"I’ve got you," Allison murmurs, steady and sure.
Father stares at them, something hollow finally cracking through his fury, and then guards are there, escorting him away, his protests echoing uselessly down the corridor.
I look at Allison, at the way she cradles mother without hesitation, at the calm authority in her posture even now, and I know with absolute certainty that whatever history thought it owned, it just lost.
Tonight, the pack will hear the truth.
And nothing will ever go back to the way it was.
