He pulled out a small howling stone and activated its connection to the Elder Arbitration Council.
"I'm filing a formal grievance. Kael Nightforge colluded with Adjudicator Elara Duskthorn during the sacred rite to swap my work and steal first ranking in the preliminaries. I demand her immediate removal and the return of what's rightfully mine!"
The other young wolves erupted in howls, eager to witness my downfall.
The pack-echo omens exploded:
[This is peak storytelling! The destined one is so powerful!]
[Finally made the call! The Elder Council is sending investigators!]
[The side character's about to be ruined!]
Selene fixed me with an icy stare, her wolf eyes gleaming with barely contained hostility.
"Before the Council investigators arrive, I'll give you one last chance to confess your oath-breaking."
Darian adopted that insufferable I'm-only-trying-to-help tone, his scent deliberately muted to project false humility. "Once this blows up, you'll lose far more than some preliminary rite standing."
The Howl-Net chatter flooded in, praising him:
[The ML is too kind—even now he's giving the second lead a chance to confess.]
[He's SO pure-hearted. That's why he keeps rejecting the FL, because of her intended mate-claim with the villain.]
[These two destined wolves can't be together because of that TRASH. The FL has to practically beg him to accept her tribute offerings!]
[Can this pathetic simp just explode already?!]
I was starting to question these viewers' collective ability to scent deception.
If Darian were really the noble wolf they imagined, why was he entangled with Selene when he knew she bore another's mate-claim? His so-called "rejections" were textbook playing-hard-to-get, the kind of manipulation any experienced pack member could smell from a mile away.
One glance at his clothing—not a single piece crafted from anything less than premium moon-blessed leather—told me everything. Selene had been bankrolling him from the Crownhollow pack stores for the Ancestors knew how long.
And they actually believed he needed rite prize offerings for training dues? The stupidity was dragging down the average intelligence of our entire territory.
I regarded them both with cold indifference and stated again, "I don't need to swap ritual sigils to win. Especially not for some preliminary rite."
Murmurs rippled through the gathered wolves.