By morning, the entire pack knew.

Elliot learned that from the kitchen staff, who fell silent when he entered. Someone had pinned a drawing to the noticeboard: five wolves wearing wedding veils while a tiny Omega held their leashes.

He took the drawing down.

“Leave it,” said the cook, without meeting his eyes. “They'll only put up another.”

Elliot folded the paper into quarters and slipped it into his pocket.

He was not hungry. Still, he filled a plate because the collar around his throat made him lightheaded whenever he went too long without eating.

He sat alone near the pantry door.

A shadow fell over his breakfast.

Lucas Ashford dropped into the opposite chair. “So. Which one of us is the lucky groom?”

“None, if I can help it.”

“Careful. I might start thinking you're playing hard to get.”

Elliot pushed his plate away. “I would rather be left alone.”

Lucas's grin faltered. He recovered quickly. “Then stop making yourself everybody's problem.”

He left before Elliot could answer.

A bell summoned Elliot to the council archive at noon. Sebastian was waiting beside a table covered in marriage statutes.

“I've reviewed every amendment,” Sebastian said. “The ceremony is binding, but its enforcement can be delayed if the candidate is disqualified.”

Elliot stared at him. “You want to disqualify me.”

“I want to prevent a political disaster.”

“By proving I'm a traitor?”

“If the evidence supports that conclusion.”

“The evidence was forged.”

“Then demonstrate it.”

Elliot's hands shook. “I was in the infirmary when the eastern map was stolen. Adrian knows.”

“Adrian's records show that you left for seventeen minutes.”

“I went to the storage room for bandages. He sent me.”

Sebastian finally looked up. “Then why didn't he say so?”

That question had kept Elliot awake for three weeks.

“I don't know.”

Sebastian's expression softened for a fraction of a second. Then he pushed a form across the table.

“Sign this. It permits the council to investigate your claim without requiring testimony at the ceremony.”

Elliot read the first page. Halfway down, he found a clause authorizing temporary confinement during the investigation.

“You want to lock me up.”

“A precaution.”

“I'm already guarded.”

“Then you have nothing to fear.”

Elliot returned the pen. “I won't sign.”

Sebastian's mouth tightened. “You are making this unnecessarily difficult.”

“No. I'm reading what you put in front of me.”

He left before Sebastian could call the guards.

In the courtyard, Ryder was supervising combat drills. The Alpha saw Elliot and immediately dismissed the younger fighters.

“You,” he called. “Come here.”

Elliot kept walking.

Ryder reached him near the training fence. “When I speak, you answer.”

“I heard you.”

“Then show some respect.”

Elliot looked at the snow beneath Ryder's boots. “Respect isn't something you can order.”

Ryder's wolf flashed gold behind his eyes. A pressure rolled through the courtyard, the instinctive dominance of a powerful Alpha.

Elliot's knees weakened.

Ryder noticed and stepped back, but not before Elliot caught the brief satisfaction on his face.

“You think you can marry into command,” Ryder said. “You wouldn't last one patrol.”

“I never asked for command.”

“You asked for something.”

“I asked you to believe me.”

Ryder went still.

The training yard seemed to hold its breath.

Then he said, “My brother died on that border.”

Elliot's anger drained away. He remembered the younger Cross brother laughing over coffee three days before the ambush.

“I know,” he whispered. “I'm sorry.”

“Don't.” Ryder's voice cracked like a whip. “Don't use his name to make me pity you.”

Elliot walked away without another word.

At dusk, Adrian found him in the infirmary searching through old appointment logs.

“You shouldn't be in here without permission,” the healer said.

“You told Sebastian I left for seventeen minutes.”

Adrian closed the door. “The clock recorded your exit.”

“You sent me for bandages.”

“I remember.”

“Then tell them.”

Adrian looked toward the locked cabinet where patient records were kept.

“If I contradict the official report without proof, the council could remove my license.”

Elliot could barely believe what he was hearing. “Your license?”

“I need access to those records to help you.”

“You could have helped me three weeks ago.”

Adrian flinched.

Elliot stepped past him. “You don't have to worry about helping me anymore.”

That evening Gideon summoned the five heirs to his private chamber. Elliot was required to attend, but nobody offered him a chair.

“The choosing remains scheduled,” Gideon announced.

Damien stood by the fireplace. “And if we refuse?”

“The heir selected will either accept the covenant or forfeit his inheritance.”

Lucas swore softly.

Sebastian asked, “What if Elliot refuses all five?”

“The covenant has no provision for it.”

Elliot looked from face to face. Five men, furious because he held a power he had never wanted.

Damien turned to him. “You enjoy this.”

“No.”

“Watching us fight over you?”

“None of you are fighting over me,” Elliot said. “You're fighting over your pride.”

Ryder slammed his palm onto the table.

Gideon barked his name, but the damage was done. Elliot had seen the truth in their faces: they feared the humiliation of being chosen more than they feared hurting him.

After the meeting, Elliot found a note pushed beneath his door.

THE MOON CEREMONY WILL SETTLE EVERYTHING. COME ALONE TO THE OLD SANCTUARY TOMORROW NIGHT.

There was no signature.

He held it beneath the lamp. The paper smelled faintly of cedar, iron, medicine, rain, and citrus.

Five scents woven together.

Elliot should have burned it.

Instead, he placed it beside the scratched drawing and wondered how much worse things could become.

After returning to his room, Elliot tried the key Ruth had given him. The old archive lay behind the east staircase, in a narrow room that smelled of dust and binding glue.

He found the Moon Covenant in a cabinet marked HISTORICAL REVISIONS. The modern edition contained a single paragraph about compulsory selection. The older version was longer.

A sentence near the bottom had been crossed out in red ink. Elliot tilted the page toward the lamp. Beneath the ink he could make out three words: freely offered choice.

He copied them into his notebook.

Footsteps sounded outside. Elliot closed the book. Through the frosted glass he saw Sebastian speaking to an elderly clerk.

“The original pages are not for general circulation,” Sebastian said.

“Councilwoman Bell authorized access,” the clerk replied.

“That authorization can be reviewed.”

Elliot waited until the voices moved away. He photographed the page with his phone and returned the volume to its shelf.

Back in his room, he studied the picture. Someone had not merely updated the law. Someone had deliberately hidden language about consent.

He thought of Damien's anger, Ryder's grief, Adrian's silence, and the way Lucas laughed whenever he felt cornered. They all treated the coming ceremony as an insult to themselves.

None seemed interested in the possibility that the law had been manipulated to trap Elliot too.

His phone buzzed. An anonymous message appeared: DO NOT MAKE THIS HARDER THAN IT HAS TO BE.

He stared at the screen, then saved a copy.

For the first time, he wondered whether the border accusation and the marriage demand were part of the same design.

He put his notebook beneath his pillow and left the lamp burning until morning.