Omens Over Mooncall,The Alpha Heir They Tried to Ruin

She bit her lip, her face twisted into a mask of anguished sympathy. "You're just too strong for your own good. I've told you a hundred times—I can help you. With resources, with pack connections, with anything you need." Her voice trembled with admiration. "But you insist on doing everything yourself." She shook her head slowly. "You're nothing like those pampered Alpha heirs who've had territory and tribute handed to them since birth..." The Howl-Net chatter exploded across the scrying mirrors: 【Can the former intended mate seriously not tell the female lead is throwing shade at him?! Just forfeit the rite already and give first standing back to our precious male lead!】 【The female lead only offered tribute for this whole Moon-ink rite so she could sit on the adjudicator council—all for the male lead's sake!】 【Doesn't matter how much he lies. Once they pull the scrying mirror records, his "pure moonlight" image is going straight into the gutter!】 【The male lead comes from such a struggling pack and has to hunt his way through the Academy. He's been through so much hardship!】 I stared at Darian. At the moonstone-encrusted claw-ring on his finger, worth at least a hundred thousand in pack currency. The shadow-silk coat draped across his shoulders, easily eighty thousand. The drake-leather boots on his feet, another six thousand at minimum. My brow furrowed. Struggling pack? Hunting his way through the Academy? Were we talking about the same wolf? He was dressed more like old bloodline nobility than I was—and I was the actual Alpha Heir here. Anyone who'd ever worked with Moon-ink knew how easy it was to get the sacred pigments everywhere. That's why most rune-scribes wore cheap, stain-resistant pelts to work in. But Darian... I watched the comments continue to gush over his "admirable dedication" and "humble circumstances." I had no words. Before I could even respond, tears began streaming down Darian's face. "I know you're some wealthy Alpha Heir who doesn't care about tribute prizes this small," he choked out. "But for me, this rite standing represents an entire cycle's worth of Academy fees. I need this tribute. I can't survive without it." His eyes were red-rimmed, glistening with moisture. Then, without warning, he dropped to his knees before me. Thud. The sound echoed through the council hall like a death knell. "I know you swapped the ritual sigils because you wanted first standing. Fine—I'll give you the title. You can have the rite championship." His voice cracked, raw and desperate. "But please, can you at least give me back the tribute prize?" He bowed his head lower. "If you want me to ghost-scribe for you in the future, just ask. You don't have to steal my work." Selene rushed forward, cradling him protectively against her chest. "A wolf's knees are sacred to the pack! You're the victim here—why should you kneel to him?!" If I agreed with anything Darian said, I'd be confessing on the spot. I kept my voice level, letting no growl slip through. "As far as I know, Academy fees are twelve thousand in tribute per cycle. You could sell any single item you're wearing and cover that several times over." I paused, letting my gaze sweep meaningfully over his expensive attire. "And for the record—I have zero interest in winning a traditional Moon-ink rite. Why would I swap anyone's work?" Darian's expression flickered, freezing for just a moment. His scent spiked with something sharp—fear, perhaps, or calculation. Then he turned to Selene, wounded and helpless as a kicked pup. "These things aren't mine. They're gifts—from wolves who care about me. They have sentimental value." His voice rose with desperate conviction. "I could starve through three winters before I'd ever sell someone's heartfelt gesture for tribute." He pressed a hand to his chest. "All I want is to earn my way through my craft. Through my own two claws." "I'm not trying to steal the rite championship from you. I'm begging you—just give me back the tribute prize." His voice was raw, shredded, barely a rasp. Selene's eyes shimmered with emotion, her hand stroking his hair. "You sweet, foolish pup..." The other rite contestants closed in around us, accusations flying like snapping jaws: "Darian is literally kneeling and begging you. What more do you want?" "I can't stand these privileged Alpha parasites—thinking bloodline means they can steal other wolves' work." "Making him return the tribute prize isn't enough. His rite entry needs to be voided entirely!" The Pack-Echo omens erupted in righteous fury across every scrying mirror: 【Can this piece of trash just DROP DEAD?! He's forcing our precious male lead to KNEEL. I'm howling in grief, our poor baby male lead!】 【Thank the Moon Mother the female lead will expose him for swapping the ritual sigils and give the championship back to the male lead!】 【The best part comes later—the female lead never forgets how the male lead was humiliated. She pretends to pursue the former intended mate, then rejects the mating bond AT THE CEREMONY on their claiming day! The supporting male's whole pack is disgraced, their territory holdings collapse! The female lead claims their hunting grounds and drives his accomplice parents into such ruin they throw themselves from the mountain cliffs!】 I stared at that last omen. My vision went red at the edges, wolf surging beneath my skin. The Pack-Echo omens shrieked: 【WAIT—can he actually SEE these?!】 I wrenched my gaze away, forcing my claws to retract, pretending I hadn't seen a thing.

The omen-feed settled when I showed no reaction: [There's no way a side character can perceive the pack-echoes. The one above must be moon-touched.] [He's merely a stepping stone for the destined pair. His entire bloodline deserves extinction!] Fury burned through my veins like liquid silver. I had never harmed another wolf in my existence. So why should I clear the path for Selene Crownhollow and Darian Ashfen's fated bond? Why should I be framed until my pack's territory holdings crumble and my parents throw themselves from the mountain cliffs? The gathered wolves helped Darian to his feet, all howling for me to face judgment for stealing another's sacred work. Selene went straight for the kill, summoning the Rite Arbiters: "I demand a formal grievance be heard! Someone tampered with the ritual sigils and stole another contestant's achievement!" Darian hung his head in wounded submission, the very image of an innocent omega wronged. The Council Adjudicators' expressions turned grave. "The entire inscription process was conducted under scrying mirror surveillance," one of them said. "It would be impossible for anyone to have swapped the works." Darian's eyes glistened as he lifted his head, glaring at the long-haired female adjudicator at the front. "Elder Duskthorn, you're allies with Kael Nightforge's mother. Of course you'd side with him. But none of us even named the culprit, and you're already rushing to shield him. Don't you think that oversteps your authority?" Selene piled on, her voice cold as winter frost: "Elder Duskthorn, I offered five million in tribute to this rite. Not so I could watch you play favorites and manipulate outcomes from the shadows. My prize allocation needs to go to someone who actually earned it through honor." The other contestants joined the chorus: "So the adjudicator is allied with Kael Nightforge's mother? No wonder he had opportunity to swap the ritual marks!" "What a dishonorable scheme. And he calls himself Alpha-born? More like a parasite feeding off common wolves!" Darian fixed Elara Duskthorn with a stubborn stare. "I demand a review of all rite entries! And I demand that Elder Duskthorn—who's clearly protecting him—step down immediately!" Elara remained silent. I spoke before she could. "On what grounds are you demanding a review?" My voice cut through the noise. "On what grounds are you demanding Elder Duskthorn step down?" "Based on nothing but your baseless accusations? Do you have any idea how much burden you'd be placing on the Academy servants?" "You keep speaking of being some poor rogue who suffered hardship, but you don't hesitate to make life miserable for wolves who actually serve this institution." "Yes, Elder Duskthorn is my mother's ally. But she hasn't done a single thing to shield me. If you want her removed, you'd better present actual evidence." I could tolerate Darian slandering me—after all, it was nothing but speculation. But dragging an innocent wolf like Elara into this? That was unforgivable. Her bonded mate, Rowan Duskthorn, suffered from a failing wolf-heart. He survived only through constant healer rites and costly moonstone treatments. She'd refused my mother's offer to help cover the healing costs, insisting she'd handle the thousands in monthly treatment fees herself. That was why she treasured every position, every additional duty. She never complained. Never sought pity. I wasn't about to let Darian destroy her. The moment I defended her, Selene let out a mocking laugh. "Touched a nerve, did we?" "What's wrong—afraid we'll find proof of your little sigil swap once we investigate deeper?" Darian clenched his fists, his expression twisting as though he'd finally reached his breaking point. "All I wanted was for you to return the prize so I could pay my rite fees and remain at the Academy. That's all. But you've pushed me too far. Now you must face consequences." 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. "Wait, that's true—this rite is just a regional trial. Kael has always competed in inter-territory championships." "His pack's dominion is vast, and he's already established as a master rune-scribe. Why would he cheat?" "What would he even gain?" Doubt flickered across Selene's face. Her gaze slid toward me, uncertain now, her wolf instincts warring with her hatred. But Darian's lips curled into a mocking sneer. He jabbed a claw-tipped finger toward my face. "Need me to spell it out for you?" "It's for the guaranteed bloodline placement!" His voice turned razor-sharp. "You all think this rite is just about rankings and tribute prizes. But the grand champion gains a guaranteed position within the Ancient Moon-Keeper's Academy." "That's something no amount of territorial competitions can secure!" Gasps swept through the hall, the scent of shock permeating the air. Selene's eyes filled with disgust. "Even if you claw your way into an elite academy through dishonor, you won't survive the first moon cycle. And besides—" She smiled coldly, her fangs glinting. "Your true nature is about to be exposed." When my expression didn't waver, she pointed at me, voice dripping venom. "We'll see who's howling in defeat when the evidence is laid bare!" A group of uniformed Council investigators approached, one of them holding up a scrying crystal. "This contains the complete record—the ritual creation process and the submission procedure. We're here to settle this dispute once and for all." The lead investigator turned to me. "You're Kael Nightforge, the one who was reported for oath-breaking?" His tone was clinical, professional. "I'll ask you one final time: Did you swap another wolf's ritual work to secure guaranteed academy placement?" Darian and Selene exchanged gleeful looks, practically vibrating with anticipation as they waited for the scrying evidence to destroy me. I rolled my eyes so hard I nearly saw my own wolf spirit. "I was granted exceptional bloodline admission last year," I said flatly, spreading my hands. "Why would I swap ritual sigils to get admitted... again?"