She gave everything to her pack, her strength, her love, her soul. As Luna, she bore the weight of leadership with grace and compassion. Her mate vowed eternity, choosing her even without the blessing of fate. But fate had other plans. When he returned years later with his supposed fated mate, everything changed. Loyalty turned to betrayal. Love turned to lies. And her once-secure world crumbled. Abandoned by the man who promised her the moon and back, and hunted by jealous enemies who sense her vulnerability, she faces a brutal awakening. But beneath the scars lies a force they underestimated. She will not break. She will rise. Now, the woman they tried to destroy will become the storm. And in the ashes of betrayal, a new queen will rise fierce, free, and unbreakable. Will her heart dare to trust again, or will her destiny lie elsewhere, in power, revenge, or a love that truly sees her?
View MoreNightwind was quiet when they returned. Too quiet. The usual hum of life, pups wrestling in the courtyard, sentries exchanging rounds, the low rhythm of pack magic, was gone.Aria knew before anyone spoke. She knew it in the marrow of her bones. “My daughter,” she said. “Where is Liora?”Theron’s brow furrowed. Calder stepped forward quickly, grabbing a guard by the shoulder. “Where is she?” Calder demanded. “Speak.”The guard’s face was pale. “She, she went out for morning lessons. With Elder Myra. But they never came back.” Aria’s blood turned to ice. She vanished from the spot in a blur of speed.They found the training field torn. Trees scorched, earth ripped open like something had crawled through from beneath. Myra’s staff lay shattered on the ground, stained with blood. But not her own. And Liora was nowhere.Aria stood still in the center of the chaos, breathing hard, her heart pounding in the void she’d once thought healed. Then she saw it. A sigil burned into the bark of a t
The Eastern Wastes were not dead. They just slept differently. Ash trees towered upside down, roots stretching into the sky like the bones of giants. The soil pulsed faintly with violet veins. The wind whispered not in gusts but in names, some of them familiar, some of them hers.Aria led the small company across the ridge: Orion, Theron, Calder, and two scouts from Nightwind. None spoke much. The Wastes had a way of making even the boldest wolf quiet.At the edge of a black plateau stood the Temple of Shattered Stars, a broken obsidian structure half-buried in the land, the sky above it always swirling with starless clouds. No one had spoken of it in centuries. Not in books. Not in legend.But Aria knew the moment she saw it. “This is where she fell,” she whispered.Orion nodded. “And where she first rose again.”The entrance was not a door but a mirror. Fractured. Floating. Each shard reflected a different version of Aria. One with silver hair. One bleeding. One crowned. One burnin
The training began before dawn. In the ruins beneath Nightwind, older than the pack itself, Orion carved the first circle in ash. He used no blade, only his fingers, leaving glowing marks on the cold stone floor. The runes pulsed with a faint violet light.Aria stood at the center. No sword. No armor. Only truth. “Mirror magic doesn’t come from power,” Orion said. “It comes from clarity. You must reflect what is, not what you want to be true.”Aria nodded once. “First,” he said, “you must call the flame.” She closed her eyes, breathing deep, centering herself in silence. The circle around her warmed. Then ignited, not with fire, but with silver-blue light, flickering like water under moonlight.Orion watched carefully. “It responds to you. Good. Now, show me the memory that nearly broke you.”Aria’s eyes flew open. “What?”“You can’t fight Vaelith if you won’t face what made you vulnerable to her in the first place.”She looked away. “There’s nothing I haven’t faced.”“You’re lying.”
The storm rolled in just past midnight. Not rain. Not thunder. But wolves. Three cloaked figures emerged through the fog at the edge of Nightwind territory, their steps silent, their auras cloaked too tightly to read. The guards at the southern post raised their weapons instantly.But the lead figure, tall, hooded, with a blade strapped across his back, lifted both hands in peace. “I come with no war,” he said. “Only with truth.”The guard didn’t lower his weapon. “Name. Rank. Pack.”The stranger stepped forward and removed his hood. The guards flinched. His eyes were glowing, not gold, not silver, but a deep violet lined with white cracks, as though starlight itself had broken behind his irises. “My name is Orion Thorne,” he said. “I am the last of the Bloodhowl Pack, and I have come to speak with Aria Nightwind.”Aria stood on the high balcony of the council tower when the messenger reached her. She recognized the name before the scout even finished. “Bloodhowl?” she whispered. “Tha
The gates of Nightwind stood just as tall as she remembered. But they no longer welcomed her. Aria stood at the forest edge, Calder and Theron at her side, watching the sentries stiffen atop the walls as they spotted her approach.No horns. No calls of return. Just cold, tight silence. Behind her, a few Duskfang wolves shifted nervously. “You don’t have to go alone,” Calder murmured.“I do,” Aria said, tightening her cloak. “If I walk in with an army, they’ll call it a coup. I’m not here to reclaim my title with swords.”Theron raised a brow. “Yet.”Aria smirked faintly. “Give it a day.”She stepped forward. The wolves at the gate whispered. One ran inside. Another drew her bow, uncertain. Then the heavy creak of the inner gate broke the silence. And Elder Myra stepped out. Aria’s breath caught. Myra had raised her after her parents died in the border war. She was a quiet, unshakable woman with steel in her bones and compassion in her eyes.Now, she looked older. Tired. And… wary. “Ar
The air split with the sound of screaming magic. Serenya’s body trembled, her limbs cracking at unnatural angles, her skin shimmering with iridescent patterns that looked nothing like fur. Her mouth opened, but no words came, only a choked hiss, like steam escaping from a dying star.Kaelen clutched his head, groaning on his knees. Calder raised his sword beside Aria. “She’s not shifting. She’s shedding.”Aria didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Her breath caught as she saw what was beneath.A shadowy figure, feminine and serpentine, with veins of white fire and a face like melted glass, peeled itself from Serenya’s trembling frame. Its eyes were hollow, but not empty, within them churned reflections of other faces, other lives… versions of Aria that never survived.“You do not belong,” the creature whispered, its voice echoing in multiple tones, some sounding eerily like Aria herself. “You were supposed to burn.”“I did burn,” Aria replied, stepping forward. “And I rose.”The creature sneer
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