"But how—" San Lang burst out, voice trembling between disbelief and the first pricklings of panic. "How are you even alive?!"

  The elders snapped their heads toward him. His outburst shattered the rigid decorum of the chamber, the echo bouncing off stone walls like an accusation. For the first time in decades, the air felt electric, sharp with tension.

  San Qi remained still. His cloak fell perfectly around him, his posture calm, deliberate. He didn't answer immediately.

  The silence stretched, heavy and deliberate, like the pause before a strike. When he finally met his brother's gaze, it was with eyes that told stories far older than either of them—one silver, one gold. Piercing, unflinching, unreadable.

  "Some things," he said slowly, measured, "are beyond your understanding."

  San Lang stepped forward, teeth bared, like a cornered wolf forced to face its superior. "You used something forbidden," he spat, the words trembling with anger and fear. "You cheated death—this is black magic!"

  The room shivered at the accusation. Murmurs ran through the elders like wind through reeds, tension snapping tight across the council.

  San Qi tilted his head, the faintest smile playing at his lips. "You speak of cheating, dear brother?"

  Then he turned—not toward San Lang, but to the council. His voice, low but clear, carried weight that demanded attention.

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  "If I may speak plainly…"

  The elders nodded, leaning forward. Even those who had doubted him seemed compelled to listen.

  He met each of their eyes in turn, calm, precise, unwavering. "I remained silent while rumors danced. I stayed hidden while betrayal grew bold. But there is something you must know before you cast judgment."

  He stepped into the center of the room, letting his presence fill every shadowed corner. His voice rose slightly, carrying over the murmurs, deliberate and commanding.

  "A maid was sent to my quarters. Not once. But every day. Always kind. Always dutiful."

  His gaze sharpened, locking with San Lang's, cutting through the pretense. "Until I noticed something… in my food. In my tea. In my blood."

  The elders leaned forward, eyes wide, the chamber suddenly quiet except for the steady beat of San Qi's pulse—measured, relentless, human and not-human all at once.

  "Poison," he said plainly. "Minute, precise, slow… enough to wither even the strongest wolf over time."

  Elder Wu's brow furrowed, lips pressed tight. "You are certain?"

  San Qi nodded once, faint but deadly in its finality. "I was dying. Every morning. A little more. I could feel it in my lungs. My bones. Even my spirit wolf… could not rise."

  He paused. The room held its breath. Then he leaned slightly forward, silver and gold eyes flashing as he met San Lang's gaze directly.

  "Yet I endured. I remembered. And then… I changed."

  The council chamber went utterly still. Not a whisper. Not a breath.

  San Lang opened his mouth again, but Elder Wu's voice cut through the tension like a blade of stone. "Enough. We will investigate. Thoroughly."

  All eyes turned to San Qi. Some with fear, some with awe, some with grudging respect.

  He inclined his head slightly, voice steady, calm, and final. "Do as you must. I am ready to prove myself—not just with bloodline or words—but with truth."

  Even the faintest flicker of doubt in the elders' eyes began to waver. The Alpha had spoken. Not with threats. Not with bluster. But with evidence, calm and unshakable.

  And in that quiet, the chamber knew: the heir was not just alive. He was awake. He was aware. And the wolf inside him… had fully returned.