ログイン(Delph’s POV)
The forest had gone quiet. Too quiet for dawn.
Even the birds refused to sing, and that silence weighed heavier than the cold.
Delph crouched at the edge of a ravine, rain misting through the trees, his breath forming small clouds against the dark. His boots sank into damp moss as he studied the prints on the ground, shallow, quick, cautious. Afnan’s.
She’d passed this way not l
POV: AfnanThe first light of dawn filtered through the open arches of the Alpha’s chambers, pale and tender like silk brushed over stone. For the first time in moons, there was no sound of battle,only the steady rhythm of breathing.Afnan lay awake, eyes tracing the silver vines etched across her arm where the curse had burned its mark. It no longer hurt. The veins shimmered softly in the light, living proof that the Moon’s power had changed her, but not broken her.Between her and Delph, the twins slept, tangled in a heap of blankets and soft curls. One stirred, mumbling something about wolves chasing stars. She smiled faintly and brushed a strand of hair from his face.Peace had come at last.And yet… peace was heavier than war.She turned her head toward Delph. He was still asleep, one arm slung protectively over the children, the faintest frown between his brows, as if even in dreams, he didn’t quite trust that the world had stilled. His chest rose and fell in slow, deep rhythm,
POV: DelphThe smoke still rose over Bloodstone Fortress, thin, tired ribbons curling toward the soft light of morning. Rain had fallen through the night, washing away the blood and ash, leaving the courtyard slick with silver puddles that reflected the rising sun.Delph walked slowly through the ruins, his boots crunching on broken stone. The once-mighty gates of Bloodstone lay scattered in pieces before him, twisted by flame and light. His fingers brushed against the charred wood. It was the same gate he had sworn to protect when he first became Alpha. Now it stood open, humbled, like everything else that had survived this war.All around him, wolves stirred among the wreckage, exhausted but alive. Some limped. Some carried others. None spoke. They were waiting, not for victory, but for what came after.He stopped at the center of the courtyard, lifting his face to the pale dawn. We won, he told himself. But the words rang hollow, like an echo in an empty hall.A soft voice cut thro
(POV: Delph & Afnan – Shared)Silence.Not the silence of peace, but of everything holding its breath.Delph stood in the heart of the Moon’s Gate, his chest rising with shallow, uneven breaths. All around him floated fragments of light, runes and symbols spinning slowly in weightless air, as though the stars themselves had been drawn down into this chamber.Afnan stood across from him, her skin aglow with soft silver light. The mark on her wrist, once raw and burning, now shimmered like liquid fire. It pulsed in time with the heartbeat of the Gate. “Where… are we?” Delph whispered.His voice barely echoed. Even sound seemed afraid here.Afnan turned to him, her eyes reflecting the glow like pools of moonlight.“Inside the Gate,” she said softly. “Inside the Moon’s will.”The air hummed. Shapes flickered around them, faces, memories, battles.Delph’s past spilled into view like a dream made of smoke.His father’s shadow loomed tall, the scent of iron and dominance pressing down on hi
(Corin’s POV)The first crack split the marble like a scream.Silver light bled up through the floor of the throne hall, turning polished stone into molten glass. Wolves stumbled back, shielding their eyes as tremors rippled through the fortress. Above us, the ceiling groaned, the carved moons fracturing, dust raining down like ash.For one silent heartbeat, it felt as if the world itself held its breath.Then the fortress roared.The light surged again, brighter this time, alive, pulsing from the catacombs below. The Moon’s Gate was awake.I pushed myself off the cold floor, blood slicking my arm. Pain knifed through my ribs, but I was still breathing. Still standing.All around me, chaos reigned, soldiers clashing, banners torn, the Council’s enforcers shouting orders no one obeyed anymore. “Fall back!” one barked.“The Moon rejects us!” another screamed.They were right. The Moon had chosen. And it wasn’t them.I gritted my teeth and lifted my head. The throne stood ahead, massive
(Delph’s POV)The air grew colder the deeper we went.Our torches hissed in the dark, light trembling against ancient stone. Each step echoed like the ghost of an oath long forgotten. Somewhere above, the fortress screamed with war, the howl of blades, the crack of crumbling towers, but down here, there was only the slow, rhythmic heartbeat of the earth.And Afnan’s mark.It glowed faintly ahead of me, painting her skin with moonlight. Every time the flame-shaped crescent pulsed, the walls around us seemed to breathe, stones shifting slightly, whispering fragments of old tongue. “We are close,” Maelis murmured, her eyes flicking between runes etched into the stairwell. “The catacombs predate the packs. This is where your ancestors sealed the Moon’s first gift.”I tightened my grip on my blade, more comfort than weapon.“I thought the Moon’s gift was power,” I said quietly.Afnan glanced back at me. In the half-light, her gaze was sharp, soft, knowing. “No,” she whispered. “It was cho
(Afnan’s POV)Darkness hums like a heartbeat.I drift in and out of it, sometimes weightless, sometimes burning. Voices rise and fall around me, blurred and distant, like waves pulling against the shore.Maelis chants. I know that sound anywhere. The rhythm of ancient words, older than Bloodstone itself.Somewhere close, Delph’s breath trembles. The scrape of his claws on stone. The desperate, silent prayers that never leave his lips.“Please,” he murmurs once. “Take me instead.”The Moon doesn’t answer.When I open my eyes, everything is red.Not blood, light. Flickering, molten light that dances across the walls. I’m lying on a cold stone table, the air thick with incense and smoke. The scent of burnt silver clings to my skin.Delph kneels beside me, his face caught between fury and fear. “You’re here,” he whispers, voice cracking like old glass. “You’re still here.”I want to speak, but pain blooms along my arm, where Serena’s arrow struck. It isn’t a wound anymore. It’s alive.The
(Afnan’s POV)Morning in Moonfall smelled like rain and wildflowers.Mist drifted low across the valley, veiling the cottages and pale-lantern trees in a silver glow. Afnan stood by the healer’s hut, her twins clinging to her skirts, as the village began to stir. Somewhere nearby, a bell tolled sof
(Afnan’s POV)The valley sang in whispers.Not of wind or water, but something softer, like the breath of the Moon herself, woven through the mist. Every step I took felt like trespass and blessing all at once.Lyra walked ahead
(Delph’s POV)The forest bled rain and memory in equal measure.Each drop that fell tasted like smoke and iron, as if the heavens themselves remembered the fire that gutted Bloodstone. I moved through the northern woods with the storm whispering in my ears, my cloak heavy, my wounds burning beneath
Corin's POV Every wolf wants a throne until the silence starts asking for orders.The great hall was quiet, except for the crackle of the hearth. Shadows trembled against the carved walls, stretching long across the stone floor. I sat in the Alpha’s chair for the first time not because I wanted to







