The standard honors wrapped up quickly.

The ceremonial caller's voice rose with practiced excitement: "And now, the moment you've all been waiting for—the Moonlit Contribution Honor!"

"A chest of silver-tribute, plus a prestige patrol mount and elite den grant!"

The great hall fell silent for a heartbeat, then erupted into a buzz of speculation.

Everyone knew the weight of this prize.

"Who could it be? Beta Thorne?"

"My wager's on Elder Vance from the Border Patrol—his wolves doubled their territory gains this year."

"What about..." someone lowered their voice, "Omega Liaison Ashford? He's the Pack Steward's golden pup."

Kael Ashford clearly heard that last remark.

The curve of his lips deepened, a flicker of smug certainty crossing his eyes.

Beside him, Selene smoothed an invisible crease from her ceremonial gown, her smile perfectly composed.

I picked up the gilded scroll and slid it open, taking my time.

"This year, our pack welcomed an exceptional new member." My gaze swept across the gathered wolves. "She joined the Wardcraft division less than six moons ago, yet she spearheaded the core sigil breakthrough for the Starsea Ward—saving the pack nearly ten thousand silver-marks and pioneering an entirely new protective pathway."

Whispers rippled through the crowd.

As my words sank in, the smugness on Kael's face slowly calcified. Selene's polished smile evaporated.

I continued reading: "She is young, yet possesses extraordinary talent and focus. She keeps a low profile, yet her achievements shine brilliantly."

"By unanimous decision of the Elder Council, this cycle's Moonlit Contribution Honor goes to..."

I paused, letting my gaze land squarely on Kael's face.

The color had already begun draining from his cheeks. That confident smirk hung frozen in place—a poorly fitted mask starting to crack.

I looked away and announced clearly:

"From the Wardcraft Division—Lyra Stonevale!"

"Winner of the Moonlit Contribution Honor!"

Applause and howls of celebration detonated simultaneously.

The torchlight swung to an unremarkable table tucked in the corner.

A young she-wolf in simple attire, her dark hair pulled back in a practical braid, scrambled to her feet. Bewilderment and disbelief were written across every feature.

A packmate gave her a nudge, and she finally snapped out of her daze, making her way to the raised platform on unsteady legs.

In that instant, Kael's face turned the color of raw liver.

It was a shade born of shock, humiliation, and barely contained rage all churning together.

His fists clenched so hard his knuckles went white. His once-straight spine curved forward slightly, coiled tight, his stare boring into Lyra on the stage.

Selene was clearly rattled too.

She twisted toward him, one hand pressing down on his rigid arm, her lips moving rapidly as she whispered something urgent.

Kael didn't seem to hear a word. His chest heaved violently.

Growing desperate, Selene reached under the table and seized his hand, her fingers locking around his palm, fighting to contain the explosion building inside him.

From the raised platform, I saw it all with perfect clarity.

Lyra had reached me now, still looking dazed.

I handed her the ornate honor plaque and the ceremonial mount token. Her hands trembled as she took them.

"Th-thank you, Alpha Blackthorn... thank you to the pack..."

She was so overwhelmed she could barely string words together.

"You earned it."

I smiled, clasped her hand in the traditional greeting, and gave her shoulder a light pat.

The applause continued below. Wolves rose to their feet, cheering and releasing short howls of approval.

Lyra clutched her prizes, her face flushed apple-red, bowing again and again.

After stammering through her acceptance words, she floated off the platform in a happy fog, still hugging the honor plaque.

I cleared my throat and raised my voice to carry across the hall.

"Everyone, may I have your attention please."

The great hall gradually quieted, all eyes returning to the platform.

"The Moon Gala honors have now concluded."

"However, this year we have one more honor to bestow... a very special one."

A ripple of curiosity stirred through the gathered wolves, whispers spreading like wildfire through the great hall.

I gave a slight nod to the omega attendant standing at the side of the raised platform.

She approached carrying a square gift box draped in deep blue velvet, a silver ribbon tied around it that caught the torchlight with understated elegance. Her steps were measured, unhurried. She placed the box on the stone podium before me.

It wasn't large, but it was exquisite.

Kael's face—which had been dark with barely contained fury—shifted the moment he saw it.

The resentment and rage drained from his eyes like a receding tide, replaced by rekindled anticipation. He straightened in his seat and glanced toward Selene.

Selene's brow furrowed slightly, a flicker of confusion crossing her features. But within seconds, she gave Kael an almost imperceptible nod—part reassurance, part signal.

I reached out and let my fingers glide over the smooth velvet surface.

"This honor carries no silver-tribute attached. It's not tied to hunt tallies or patrol reports." My voice was steady, even carrying a hint of warmth. "It simply represents the pack's... appreciation for one wolf's rather unique contributions."

Kael's spine went ramrod straight. The corner of his mouth twitched upward, impossible to suppress.

A look of smug certainty flashed in his eyes—I knew it.

He probably assumed the silver chest and the patrol mount were just window dressing, and that this "special honor" was the real prize prepared specifically for him.

Perhaps a blood-right deed to prime hunting grounds. Or something even more valuable—territory shares, a seat among the elders?

The gathered wolves seemed to share his speculation, their gazes ping-ponging between Kael and me.

I lifted my head, caught his eyes with precision, and smiled.

"Kael Ashford. Liaison Ashford."

I called his name.

In that instant, the anticipation on Kael's face peaked.

He drew a deep breath and smoothed the lapels of his midnight-blue velvet coat, trying to project an air of composure. But the eagerness and triumph in his eyes were practically spilling over.

He walked to the front and stopped before me, a dazzling smile spreading across his face.

"Alpha Blackthorn."

His voice rang out, vibrating with barely contained excitement.

I said nothing more. I simply gestured toward the box on the podium.

Kael stepped forward and lifted the velvet box with both hands.

It was lighter than expected.

A flicker of confusion crossed his face, but it was quickly buried beneath a fresh wave of anticipation.

He turned to face the assembled pack, holding the box aloft like a trophy. His gaze found Selene's direction for a brief, triumphant moment.

Then, projecting to the entire hall, he declared:

"Thank you, Alpha Blackthorn! Thank you for the pack's recognition! I will continue to serve faithfully and never disappoint this... special favor the pack has shown me!"

Scattered applause trickled through the crowd.

It was obvious—he wasn't well-liked here. The scent of disdain hung faintly in the air from several directions.

In her seat, Selene's face relaxed into a relieved smile. She clapped along, soft and measured.

Kael, brimming with self-satisfaction, couldn't wait any longer. His fingers attacked the silver ribbon.

They trembled slightly with excitement, and it took him several seconds to undo the elegant knot.

The velvet lid finally lifted.

The smile on his face froze solid the instant he saw what lay inside.

The ceremony master and the omega attendant, standing closest on the platform, saw it first.

The attendant's hand flew to her mouth, her eyes going wide as saucers.

The ceremony master's professional smile calcified into something almost comical—pure, undisguised shock.

The front rows began to see it too.

The whispers ignited like water hitting hot oil—a sharp sizzle, then a rapid spread into an uproar that could no longer be contained.

Someone adjusted the moonstone lantern. The pale beam tightened, centering on the carved wooden chest in Kael's hands.

No silver-tribute inside. No den-grant tokens. Nothing of value.

Just five chicken butts.

Cleaned and cooked, they gleamed with that distinctive pale-yellow sheen of braised meat. Arranged in a perfect circle on the white silk lining at the bottom of the chest.

Each one plump. Glistening with oil.