CHAPTER SIXTEEN: Moonlit Siege

The moon hung unnaturally still above Silverpine Tower, too full, too bright, as if summoned by something older than night. Wind howled between the glass spires like a thousand whispering secrets. From the rooftop garden, the city glimmered far below, unaware of the siege brewing at its center.

Zara stood just behind Maxim, hands clenched inside her coat sleeves. His silhouette faced the edge of the roof, sharp against the silvery light. His shirt was soaked at the back—blood, not his.

“They moved too early,” he said without turning.

Zara took a step closer. “The Talons?”

“They’re not alone,” Maxim said, voice like broken gravel. “Someone’s fed them intel. Our security was compromised. They knew about the Blood Key.”

Zara’s heart thudded. The Blood Key—the one hidden in Vale archives, the one Maxim had shielded from the Council and his rivals—was no longer safe.

“We have to move it,” she said.

He finally turned to her, and in his eyes burned the wolf.

“No,” he said. “We have to use it.”

Before she could ask what he meant, a crash echoed from below—glass shattering, metal groaning. The rooftop garden lights flickered, once, then twice, before going out.

They were here.

Maxim shifted, mid-motion—his form expanding, warping, but not fully. He held the transformation just enough to bare claws and fangs, his control like a razor's edge. Zara reached for her silver-laced dagger, hand steady though her pulse screamed.

Footsteps. Not just one set—dozens. Coordinated. Coming up from the emergency stairwell.

“Fall back to the elevator shaft,” Maxim growled. “We hold them there.”

Zara didn’t argue.

The rooftop was no longer safe, but the architecture below offered one advantage—choke points.

She sprinted down the back stairwell, Maxim at her side, shadows tailing them like bloodhounds. The emergency elevator alcove was lined with reinforced silver walls, a relic from old security protocols when rogue packs used to test corporate borders. The flickering lights revealed just how many of them were closing in. Zara caught glimpses of wolf eyes in the dark—feral, glowing.

A figure burst through the rooftop access behind them—Kieran Talon.

He wasn’t hiding now. His coat was gone, his wolf nearly full, silver veins crawling up his jaw. He looked like a man caught halfway between beast and ambition.

“Your empire ends tonight, Vale,” Kieran snarled.

Maxim didn’t reply. He moved.

Their clash shook the floor. Claws against claws. Bone against concrete. Maxim struck with a fury Zara had never seen in public—no measured restraint, no boardroom poise. This was war. The two Alphas collided again and again, each blow heavier than the last, as if they were tearing apart years of blood rivalry with every strike.

But more footsteps surged behind Kieran. Too many.

Zara backed toward the side corridor, heart racing. Her blade met one attacker, slicing across his arm. Another lunged—she ducked, twisted, drove the dagger into his side. Pain flared in her shoulder as claws scraped her coat. A third grabbed her wrist; she smashed the butt of the dagger into his nose, bones crunching under the impact.

They were being overwhelmed.

“Maxim!” she shouted.

He heard her—but so did someone else.

A new shape stepped forward. Zara’s breath caught.

Victor Vale.

He stood beyond the chaos, untouched in a black coat, watching like a priest at a sacrifice. His smile was calm, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“I told you,” he called out, voice steady. “He can’t protect you forever, girl.”

Maxim froze mid-strike.

Victor smiled.

“Do it,” he ordered.

Kieran obeyed.

From behind him, a glyph flared—red and ancient, carved in cursed blood. A summoning seal.

Zara recognized the sigil just seconds before it activated.

“No—!”

The explosion of energy sent her flying. Her back slammed into the wall. For a heartbeat, she couldn’t breathe. Then the ringing cleared—just enough for her to hear it.

The howling.

Not Maxim’s.

Something worse.

The summoned creature stepped out of the burning glyph—an ancient beast, taller than any Alpha, skin like charred obsidian, eyes molten red. Its limbs were too long, its breath a freezing gust of death.

Victor whispered, “Behold the Hollow Wolf.”

Maxim growled, low and dangerous, shielding Zara with his body.

“You brought that thing here?” he spat. “You’ve lost your mind.”

“No,” Victor said, stepping into the light. “I’ve remembered who I am.”

The creature moved fast—too fast. It struck, and Maxim barely dodged. Even then, blood sprayed.

Zara forced herself to her feet, lunging forward to drag Maxim back.

He was hurt. Deep slash across his ribs, blood pooling down his side.

“Max—”

“I’m fine,” he ground out.

He wasn’t.

The Hollow Wolf advanced again. Zara raised her blade, but it wasn’t enough. She needed something more. Anything.

Then she remembered the pendant.

The moonstone talisman Maxim had pressed into her hand days ago—the one bound to his bloodline.

She tore it from her neck, held it up. “I invoke the Pact of the Vale!”

The creature halted. For a second.

Victor’s eyes narrowed.

“You wouldn’t dare,” he hissed.

But she already had.

The pendant glowed. Bright silver light spilled out, forming a shield around them. The Hollow Wolf recoiled, snarling.

Maxim stared at her, wide-eyed.

“Zara—”

“You said the pact only responds to true blood and true claim,” she said. “I’m both now.”

The Hollow Wolf shrieked, shriveling back into the seal. Victor cursed, vanishing into shadow as the glyph fizzled.

Silence.

Maxim collapsed to his knees, breathing hard. Blood stained his shirt, his claws, the ground. His transformation slipped slightly—fur retracting, bones cracking back into place. He was himself again. Barely.

Zara knelt beside him, tears in her eyes. “You stayed standing.”

He laughed weakly. “Only because you did.”

Sirens blared in the distance—emergency lockdown protocols finally catching up. Somewhere below, the security grid roared to life, sealing entrances and trapping whatever remained of Victor’s strike team.

The siege was over. For now.

But nothing would ever be the same.

Not after tonight. Not after the Hollow Wolf. Not after Victor showed them what he was truly willing to summon in the name of power.

Zara tightened her grip on Maxim’s hand.

“We fight smarter from now on,” she whispered. “No more reaction. We go on the offensive.”

Maxim nodded slowly, bloodied but alive.

“One moon left,” he said. “Then we end this.”