The blood moon had vanished into the western horizon, dissolving into the velvet dark of early morning. But though the light had faded, the energy it left behind clung to the world like a living shadow. The pack lands did not return to calm. Instead, they pulsed with tension. Unease coiled in the air, thick and electric.
Sleep was a stranger to me that night. How could it come, when the flames of the moon trial still echoed through my skin, when my refusal of Lucian's bond continued to ricochet through the pack like an earthquake splitting ancient stone?
The silver fire had faded, but its residue lingered in my veins. I could feel it with every breath I took. It wasn't just power, it was memory, magic, prophecy, and something older still. A voice hummed beneath it all, laced into my soul like a melody I hadn't realized I'd always known. It whispered truths I wasn't ready to face.
Names. Faces. A throne.
Outside my quarters, Kieran stood watch. He'd refused to leave after the trial, silent but resolute. His presence was a comfort a steady shield in the rising storm.
I joined him just before dawn, the first stars fading from the sky.
"You feel it too, don't you?" I said.
He didn't look at me, but nodded.
"Something's coming."
No sooner had the words left his lips than the ground began to tremble.
A low, groaning vibration spread through the valley, shaking the leaves from the trees, sending birds screaming into the sky. Wolves across the village raised their heads, ears twitching. A collective ripple of dread passed through the bond that connected us.
Then came the howls.
Long.
Drawn.
Unfamiliar.
Wrong.
They didn't sound like any wolf I had ever known. They were hollow, as if echoing from some ancient abyss. Cold enough to silence every whispering voice within me.
Kieran turned sharply toward me. "The grove."
We ran.
The sacred grove was alive with tension by the time we arrived. Warriors stood at the ready, Beta guards formed a protective perimeter, and the Elders murmured among themselves, each one cloaked in silvery wards. The moonstone ring from the trial still shimmered faintly on the ground, humming with lingering magic.
Lucian stood near the front, flanked by his most trusted fighters. His eyes flicked toward me the moment I arrived. Something unreadable passed through his gaze.
But before he could speak, the forest shifted.
The very trees bent backward as if pushed by a hand of pure force.
And from between their trunks, cloaked in robes the color of dying stars, a figure emerged.
Tall.
Graceful.
Utterly otherworldly.
Each step he took caused the grass to ripple outward. The air grew colder. I could feel the power radiating from him, like standing too close to lightning.
He stopped at the edge of the moon circle.
Then he spoke.
"I am Malrik. Son of the first Alpha. Heir to the forgotten blood."
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Even the Elders exchanged startled glances.
Lucian's voice was sharp. "The first Alpha's line ended in the Time of Fire. We have the records. Your bloodline was purged."
Malrik smiled, and there was something cruel in the curve of it.
"Records lie. History is shaped by victors. But blood remembers."
He raised his hooded head. Beneath it, his face was smooth and sharp-edged, but it was his eyes that held me captive.
Silver and black.
Two moons colliding.
I gasped.
Because for one terrible moment, I felt him inside me not possessing, but resonating.
His magic was like mine. But older. Wilder. Tainted.
A vision slammed into me brief, blinding.
A burning field. A city of stone. A throne of bone.
And at its center Malrik, crowned by fire, while wolves howled in chains beneath him.
I staggered. Kieran caught me.
Malrik's gaze never wavered.
"Aurora Quinn," he said, voice velvet and steel. "Daughter of prophecy. Flame-born. You have awakened the chains. And now, the prison crumbles."
I steadied myself.
"What do you want?"
"To finish what was started. To restore the throne of the Moonborn. And to claim what was stolen from my bloodline."
Kieran stepped forward, voice low. "Why now?"
Malrik turned to him slowly. "Because she broke the bond. Because she chose herself. In doing so, she shattered the oldest curse. The Moon has shifted. The age of prophecy has ended. The age of rule has begun."
Lucian's growl rumbled across the grove. "You won't touch her. You won't touch any of us."
Malrik chuckled. "Bold words from the Alpha who feared his mate."
I lifted my chin. "Don't mistake me for your pawn. I may carry the Moon's mark, but I serve no one."
He studied me for a long moment.
"Not yet."
Then he raised his hand.
The moonstone circle lit up again, symbols erupting in lunar fire. The trees around us twisted, warping into unfamiliar shapes. The wind moaned.
A throne emerged.
Spectral. Glowing. Ancient.
It rose from the center of the circle, forged of moonstone and bone, wrapped in vines of silver flame.
The pack gasped.
The throne pulsed with power.
And it called to me.
My heart thundered.
I knew this throne. Not from stories. From dreams. From visions. From a memory I had never lived but always carried.
It was mine.
Or it could be.
Malrik extended a hand.
"Join me. Sit upon it. Embrace what you are."
His voice deepened. "Your father already has."
The air left my lungs.
"No," I whispered.
A new figure emerged from the shadows.
Hooded. Slow. Familiar.
He stepped into the light.
Pulled back his hood.
And I saw him.
My father.
Alive.
Older. Weathered. But it was him. No illusion. No trick.
"Papa?"
His eyes filled with sorrow. "Aurora."
My knees weakened. Kieran steadied me again.
"I saw you die," I choked.
"I let you believe that. I had to."
"Why?"
"To protect you. To protect the bloodline. They would've killed you if they'd known who you were. What you could become."
Malrik stood beside him, a silent sentinel.
Lucian pushed forward, face twisted in disbelief. "You sided with him?"
"He kept her alive," my father said.
"You betrayed your pack!" Lucian shouted.
"I saved my daughter."
Malrik turned to the crowd. "You call me enemy, but I am salvation. The Alphas you've known are children playing with fire. Aurora is the flame. And I am the wind."
He turned back to me.
"When the Blood Eclipse comes, your soul will be called. You will have to choose. Pack… or Power."
Then he vanished.
Into the shadows.
My father lingered a moment longer. He met my eyes.
"I'll be waiting, little moon."
And then he, too, was gone.
Silence fell like snow.
The grove remained motionless, as if holding its breath.
Lucian came to my side.
"We need to act. Before this rift becomes war."
I stared at the place where the throne had stood.
My blood burned.
Malrik had opened something I could not close. The path forward was no longer simple.
It was written in fire and shadow.
And I stood at the center.