Chapter 5 – The Alpha Who Never Forgot

The wind was bitter when Aria descended from the mountains.

She wore a hooded cloak woven with shadow-thread, a gift from Theron. It cloaked her scent and muffled her heartbeat, making her presence almost undetectable. Almost.

Below the temple, nestled in a crescent valley thick with mist and pine, lay the outpost of Duskfang, a rogue border haven where loyalty was bought in blood and favor, and the Moon Goddess was rarely spoken of aloud.

But within its walls was one wolf who still held her in memory.

Alpha Calder Duskfang. Her ally once. A rival of Kaelen’s in youth, but never an enemy. He had challenged Kaelen for the title of Alpha long ago… and lost. But not dishonorably.

Aria found him in the training yard behind the main hall, shirtless and sweating, swinging a blade at a wooden effigy carved to resemble a bear-sized warg.

He paused as she approached.

“I hoped I’d see you again,” Calder said, not turning. “Even if the world said you vanished.”

“I did vanish,” Aria replied, pulling back her hood. “But not forever.”

He turned then, golden eyes widening just a little, not with surprise, but relief.

“You’re still breathing.” His voice was rough with unsaid things.

“Barely,” she said.

“I heard about the fated mate.”

“I heard she’s about to be crowned Luna.”

Calder growled. “She’s wormed her way into their minds like rot in the roots.”

“I need allies,” Aria said. “Ones who still remember what I stood for.”

He looked at her carefully. “Do you stand for the same things now?”

She hesitated. “I stand for myself. For truth. And for vengeance, if that’s the only way to reclaim what was stolen.”

He nodded slowly. “Then I’m yours.”

Inside Calder’s war room, Aria spread a hand-drawn map across the table. Theron had marked it with ancient ley lines, hidden pathways of dormant power running beneath the territories.

“These are faultlines in the magical realm,” she explained. “Serenya’s feeding off them.”

Calder pointed to a mark just west of Nightwind territory. “The Hollow of Echoes. The ground there’s gone black. No birds. No prey. Even rogues won’t pass through.”

“She’s building something,” Aria said. “Or summoning.”

“She’s using Kaelen as a gatekeeper.”

Calder shook his head. “He always wanted to protect, but he was too easily deceived. Too quick to see love where there was only illusion.”

Aria swallowed. “She’s bound him. But not through true fate.”

Calder leaned in. “Then we break the bond.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Then we make it brutal.”

That night, Aria sat beneath the moon in silence, letting her thoughts circle like carrion birds. For all her training, for all her clarity, her heart still ached when she imagined Kaelen’s hand in Serenya’s. His voice promising her the world.

She remembered his first promise, whispered beneath silver trees:

"If the stars forget your name, I’ll remind them who you are."

He’d forgotten first.

Her fingers closed into fists. Just before dawn, a scout returned with news.

“Movement near the Hollow,” he reported. “A group of wolves in ceremonial garb. And… her.”

Aria stood. “What are they doing?”

“Building a pyre. At the center of it, a mirror.”

Aria felt her blood turn cold. Serenya wasn’t just mimicking rituals. She was trying to reflect power. And reverse it.

Calder rode out with her and a small unit of trusted fighters. They moved like ghosts, skirts of mist hiding them from sight. By dusk, they crouched at the edge of the Hollow, watching.

At the center of the clearing, Serenya stood robed in white, her hair unbound. Around her, stones pulsed with violet light. Wolves knelt before her, humming in low unity.

Kaelen stood at her side, expression unreadable, but silent.

Then, she began to speak in the Old Tongue. Not the Moon Goddess’s blessing.

But an invocation of the Devourer, a god of false reflections, long banished in the Age of Fracture.

Aria’s throat tightened. This wasn’t a coronation.

It was a binding ritual. One meant to overwrite her legacy, drain her remaining aura, and claim her rightful Luna blessing for Serenya.

And Kaelen… was helping her do it. Aria stepped from the trees.

Her cloak fell away. The chanting stopped. Every head turned.

Kaelen’s eyes widened, and for a second , just a second,  his bond to Serenya flickered. Something inside him recognized her. Then Serenya hissed.

"You're supposed to be gone."

Aria’s voice was calm, cold. “You tried to erase me.”

“I did,” Serenya said, “and now I’ll finish what I started.”

She raised her hands, magic swirling like oil and smoke.

But Aria stepped forward, blade drawn, the bone blade of the dead god.

With a single arc, she sliced the mirror at the pyre’s heart in half.

A shriek echoed through the clearing. Not Serenya’s. But something inside her.

The wolves staggered back as the violet light snapped like glass. The ritual was broken.

Kaelen fell to his knees, clutching his head. And Serenya… began to shift.

Not into a wolf. But into something far worse. Something with eyes that bled smoke. Something not born of this world.

Aria braced herself. She hadn’t come to ask for her title back. She had come to end a curse.