Chapter 20 The Sovereign’s Grace

The aftermath of the ritual left the Blackwood Stronghold in a state of reverent shock. The silver light that had pulsed from the moonstone chamber hadn't just healed the physical wounds of the pack; it had acted as a spiritual balm, washing away the lingering miasma of the Thorne family's decade-long oppression.

Scarlett awoke the next morning to the sound of birds chirping in the frost-covered pines outside her window—a sound that had been absent from the North for years. Her soul felt anchored, the jagged edges of the transmigration finally smoothed over by the Lunar Key's stabilizing energy.

Beside her, the bed was empty, but the pillow still carried the scent of cedarwood and cold rain. Caleb was already out, no doubt re-establishing his dominance over the outlying territories.

"You're awake," a soft voice said.

Scarlett turned to find Elder Martha standing by the hearth, stoking a fire that filled the room with a warm, amber glow. The old healer's eyes, once filled with such sharp skepticism, were now clear and filled with a quiet, profound respect.

"The pack is calling it the 'Dawn of the Silver Witch'," Martha said, bowing her head slightly—a gesture Scarlett hadn't expected to see so soon. "The sickness in the nursery has vanished entirely. The pups are stronger than they have been in a generation. You didn't just save their lives, Scarlett; you saved our future."

"I only did what was necessary, Martha," Scarlett replied, swinging her legs out of bed. She felt a new strength in her limbs, a resonance of power that hummed in her veins like a low, electric current.

"It was more than necessity. It was a choice," Martha corrected. "And the North does not forget its debts. But you must be careful. The ritual was... loud. In the world of the occult, a flare of power like that acts as a beacon. There are those who have been waiting for the Lunar Key to wake up. Not just the Thorne family, but the Order of the Black Sun."

Scarlett froze. In the original novel, the Order of the Black Sun were the true antagonists—an ancient cabal of human and supernatural extremists who believed that the only way to achieve balance was to extinguish the Lycan line entirely. Julian Thorne had been nothing more than their pawn.

Before she could ask more, a distant, thunderous crack echoed through the mountains. The floor beneath them shuddered, and a low, guttural roar of shifting earth followed.

"An avalanche?" Scarlett asked, rushing to the window.

"No," Martha whispered, her face turning pale. "The Frost-Bight Pass. It’s where our main water source originates. If that pass is blocked, the Stronghold will be paralyzed within days."

Scarlett didn't wait. She grabbed her leather jacket and her jade brush, her instincts as an occultist overriding the cold logic of the villainess she was supposed to be.

By the time she reached the courtyard, Caleb was already there, his wolf-form—a massive, silver-white beast—standing at the edge of the precipice. He shifted back to human form with a fluid, terrifying grace, his eyes locking onto Scarlett.

"The mountain is screaming, Scarlett," Caleb growled, his golden eyes filled with a dark urgency. "Someone didn't just cause a landslide; they used a Void-Hex to seal the pass. My warriors can't break it. The silver in the stone is reacting to the curse."

"Then I'll break it," Scarlett said, stepping toward the edge.

"It's too dangerous," Fenris, who was standing nearby, blurted out. But this time, his voice held no malice—only a genuine fear for her safety. "The Hex is designed to feed on spiritual energy. It will drain you dry."

"It will drain a Lycan, Fenris," Scarlett said, a confident, lethal smile touching her lips. "But it doesn't know how to handle the Five-Element Star Array."

She turned to Caleb. "I need your blood, Caleb. Just a drop. Your Kingly aura is the only thing that can anchor the spell against the mountain's own weight."

Caleb didn't hesitate. He stepped forward, slicing his palm with his own claw and pressing the bleeding hand against Scarlett’s jade brush. The jade instantly turned a deep, pulsating crimson.

Scarlett began to dance—not the predatory dance of the banquet, but a slow, rhythmic movement of the Celestial Heavens. She painted the air with the blood-infused jade, her movements creating a massive, glowing star-pattern that hovered over the blocked mountain pass.

“By the marrow of the earth and the fire of the soul, I command the void to break!”

She slammed her palms together. A pillar of blinding, golden-white light erupted from her, channeled through the array and striking the mountain pass. The Void-Hex hissed, a black, oily smoke rising from the snow as the curse was vaporized.

With a deafening roar, the blocked stones didn't just fall—they were pulverized into dust. The frozen river beneath began to flow again, its crystalline water sparkling under the morning sun.

The silence that followed was absolute. Thousands of wolves had gathered in the courtyard, watching the "Thorne Witch" stand at the edge of the world and command the very mountains to move.

Caleb walked to her side, his arm wrapping around her waist as she leaned into him, exhausted but triumphant. He didn't say a word to the crowd. He didn't need to. The look of absolute, soul-bound pride in his eyes was a decree more powerful than any speech.

"My Queen!" Fenris was the first to shout, his voice echoing through the valley.

"My Queen!" the pack responded, a roar of a thousand voices that shook the very foundations of the stronghold.

Scarlett looked at the flowing water, then at the man holding her. She had won the pack. She had stabilized her soul. But as she looked toward the southern horizon, she knew Martha was right. The beacon had been lit, and the shadows were already moving.