CHAPTER 12 – Through the Catacombs

(Afnan’s POV)

Smoke and dust chase me down the corridor.

The twins cling to me, one tiny hand tangled in my cloak, the other pressed against my neck. Their warmth keeps me from thinking about the noise outside the clash of metal, the howls, the roars that sound far too close.

The cellar door slams behind us.

I fumble with the key Delph gave me and jam it into the lock. It turns once, twice, until the mechanism clicks. The sound feels final.

The tunnel yawns open before me, narrow and cold. Moist air brushes my face, carrying the faint smell of old stone and rust. I whisper a prayer to the Moon Goddess, not for strength just for silence.

I descend the stairs, step by careful step, keeping my balance despite the weight in my arms. A lantern hangs on the wall; its flame sputters to life when I touch it. The light throws shadows across carvings older than the pack itself, wolves chasing the moon, eyes made of worn silver.

Every story I ever heard about these tunnels said they were haunted. Maybe they are. But tonight the ghosts are kinder than the living.

Somewhere above, the fighting changes pitch.

A heavy boom shakes dust from the ceiling. The twins whimper, and I press my lips to their hair. “It’s all right, moonlings. Just a storm. Just thunder.”

We reach the first fork three tunnels leading in different directions.

Ruhn said north. North wall.

I turn left, trusting instinct. The tunnel narrows until my shoulder brushes the damp stone. My heart drums against my ribs, too loud in the silence.

Then a voice echoes faintly behind me.

“Luna?”

I spin, lantern raised. A figure stumbles into view, Ruhn, cloak torn, eyes wild.

“They’re inside the mansion,” he gasps. “The elders’ guard found the side passage.”

My pulse spikes. “How many?”

“Too many. Go. I’ll seal the door behind you.”

He doesn’t wait for thanks. He shoves the heavy iron gate across the tunnel entrance and starts chaining it shut. I turn away, forcing my legs to move faster.

The tunnel slopes downward. The air grows colder, heavier.

Water drips somewhere ahead, echoing like footsteps.

I whisper to myself to stay calm, to keep moving, but every sound now feels alive, the hiss of air, the flicker of the lantern.

When the tunnel finally opens into a wider chamber, I stop to catch my breath.

A faint glow leaks from a fissure in the ceiling, pale moonlight cutting across the darkness. It falls on an old emblem carved into the wall, a wolf standing guard over two pups.

I trace it with my fingers. “Maybe you were here before us,” I murmured to the stone. “Maybe you’re still watching.”

The twins shift. The boy blinks up at me, half-awake. “Mama?”

I smile even though my throat burns. “Almost safe, little one.”

Then the sound comes again,footsteps. Not Ruhn this time.

Heavier. Closer.

I kill the lantern and press myself against the wall, heart hammering. The steps pause, then continue, slow and measured.

A flash of silver light glints ahead of the armor. Council soldiers.

I edge backward, searching the floor for another way out. Then, a narrow tunnel branching off to the right, half hidden behind a collapsed pillar. I slip into it, crouching low. The twins stay quiet as if they understand.

The soldiers pass, their voices muffled.

“…Alpha wants them alive…”

“…Elders said no witnesses…”

When the echoes fade, I let out the breath I’d been holding and start forward again. The tunnel twists sharply, then climbs upward toward a faint smell of rain.

When I finally see the night sky, I almost collapse.

The tunnel opens into a hollow beneath the north wall, just as Ruhn said. Beyond it, the forest stretches black, endless, free.

I step out into the cold air. Wind whips my hair across my face. The sounds of battle are distant now, just faint thunder in the valley.

For a long moment I stood there, unsure which direction to take.

Back toward the border means rogues. East means nothing but snowfields.

Then I remember the stories of the Moonfall Valley, a neutral land where no pack claims dominion. It’s days away, maybe more, but it’s the only place the Council won’t follow immediately.

I adjust the twins in my arms, take one last look at the fortress lights flickering in the distance, and whisper, “Hold on, Delph.”

Then I start walking into the trees.