LOGIN{Ava’s POV}The forest did not sound the way it used to.That was the first thing I noticed.Not the cold biting through my clothes, not the ache in my legs that never fully left anymore, not even the way my breath kept fogging too fast, too sharp— like my lungs were trying to outrun my thoughts.The forest itself was… wrong.I crouched low beneath a thicket of twisted roots, my back pressed to a bark that felt older than memory. I had stopped moving minutes ago; no, longer than that. Time blurred when I ran too long— when the power inside me surged and receded like a tide I didn’t know how to swim against.I listened… and I heard everything.Too much.A beetle shifting beneath the soil three paces away. The slow drip of water sliding down stone far to my left. The heartbeat of something small and warm hiding inside a hollow log.I squeezed my eyes shut.Stop.I didn’t want this.Every sense felt sharpened to a blade, cutting into me from the inside. My ears rang with sound that refus
{Gregon’s POV}The wastelands had learned my name.They whispered it through cracked stone and dead rivers, through the bones half-buried beneath blackened sand. Even the wind carried it now— low but afraid.Good.Fear was the purest form of remembrance.I stood at the edge of what remained of my encampment, watching Corrupters crawl back from the edges of the Reigns like wounded insects. Fewer than before. Far fewer. The moonchild’s interference had seen to that.My jaw tightened; not in rage, but in calculation. Loss was not failure. Loss was information.My Corrupters knelt when they reached me. Every last one. Their bodies were warped by corruption and loyalty alike with spines bowed, and eyes glowing faintly with the echo of my will. The strongest of them trembled, blood crusted at their mouth where Ava’s shadow had burned through him.These were the ones who had gone to attack the Palace. After days of weary travelling, they were finally home, coupled with the two soldiers I had
{Revna’s POV}~ In The Space Of A Few Days ~Power is loud when it is first born.It shouts. It boasts. It spills blood too quickly and mistakes noise for dominance.I did not allow that mistake.By the second night after the ruins and Scrotes bowed to me, I stripped the camp of chaos.The Rogues had spread themselves across the broken outpost like scavengers— fires everywhere, voices raised, and laughter too sharp, too careless. They thought themselves victorious simply because they had chosen a name and knelt once.Fools.I stood at the edge of the camp and watched them for a long moment, committing every weakness to memory. The way some wolves clustered in groups, feeding bravado off one another. The way others lingered on the fringes; quiet, observant, and dangerous in the way storms are dangerous before they break.Those ones would be useful.I stepped forward and the fires dimmed as if they sensed me.“Form ranks.”My voice was not loud. It did not need to be. It cut cleanly thr
{Revna’s POV}The wind in the outskirts of the Western Wilds carried many things— the smell of unburied rage, the metallic tang of abandoned hopes, and the whispers of wolves who had nothing left to lose.Perfect.These were the places where kingdoms rot quietly, long before they collapse loudly.I walked into the ruins of an old battle outpost, the stones scorched black by a forgotten war. Rogues lingered around makeshift fires, their eyes sharp with hunger— some for food, others for purpose. This was my next location. The Rogues noticed me instantly.Of course they did.A lone woman entering a den of desperate wolves was either suicidal… or something far worse.I let them wonder which one I was.With my presence, a towering Rogue stepped forward towards me, all muscle and suspicion. He scanned my maid’s dress; tattered now, the disguise shed like a useless skin, and he scoffed.“You’re lost,” he growled.I smiled faintly. “No. I’m inevitable.”A murmur rippled through the group beh
{Revna’s POV}The Reigns had always smelled of order— of rules, of obedience, of wolves who bowed simply because they were taught to.Tonight, it smelled different.It smelled afraid.I walked through the small farming village of Kervin with my hood low and my steps unhurried, passing cracked lanterns, shuttered stalls, and wolves pretending they weren’t listening for danger in every gust of wind. The Palace had fallen out of rhythm, its spines fractured. Gregon’s shadow had poisoned the horizon. And Ava— that bitchy eclipse-born miracle, had turned their faith into trembling confusion.Perfect.This was the best soil for new ideas.For rebellion.For me…I drifted past a circle of villagers gathered around a dying fire. Their murmurs were low, desperate.“Another outpost gone…”“The Palace says everything is under control—”“Liars! They can’t even protect their own walls.”I paused just close enough for their fear to brush against me like warm breath.Fear had a texture. A flavor. An
{Revna’s POV}The Palace was still shaking from the chaos I had unleashed.Not physically— no. The stones remained intact, the banners still hung; torn where soldiers had panicked, but present. But the people… the people were splintered. Suspicious. Fractured.Exactly as I wanted.I slipped out of the Palace the same way I slipped into trouble— quietly, with intention sharp enough to draw blood. No one noticed me leave. Why would they? To them, I was a disgruntled maid, a liar whose “accusation” had been laughed out of the King’s presence.But now the truth was out and if only they understood how close their world had already come to burning.My boots clicked against the rocky path of the Reignile ground, each step a reminder of my own restraint. I had exposed Ava. Publicly. Truthfully. Perfectly. And yet they chose not to believe me.Calita was mute.Calita could not have spoken.Therefore, my claim had been madness to them. But then now, Ava has been discovered and it turns out I ha







