Chapter 19: The Moon Goddess’ Blessing

The battlefield stood frozen.

No one moved.

No one breathed.

Silver light flowed from Lyra’s body like gentle moonbeams, washing over the wounded warriors.

A Blackwood wolf who had been unable to stand slowly rose to his feet.

The deep gashes across his chest vanished.

Another warrior looked at his once-broken arm in disbelief.

“It’s… healed.”

Around the battlefield, whispers spread like wildfire.

“She’s healing them.”

“The Princess is healing everyone.”

“This is impossible…”

Even the Blood Hunters hesitated, staring at Lyra with fear.

Malrik’s violet eyes narrowed.

“So…”

“The Moon Goddess truly chose you.”

He tightened his grip on his black sword.

“That only makes killing you more important.”

Without warning

He vanished.

“Lyra!” Karl shouted.

Malrik appeared directly in front of her.

His sword sliced toward her heart.

But before the blade could reach her

A brilliant silver shield burst into existence.

CLANG!

The impact sent a wave of energy across the valley.

Malrik was forced backward several steps.

He stared at the glowing barrier in disbelief.

“A Divine Shield…”

Lucien smiled proudly.

“The Moon Goddess herself is protecting her.”

Lyra looked at her own hands.

“I… I didn’t do that.”

The gentle voice returned inside her mind.

You are never alone, my child.

The words filled her with warmth.

For the first time since her life had fallen apart…

She wasn’t afraid.

Karl pushed himself to his feet despite the pain in his ribs.

His silver eyes never left Lyra.

His wolf spoke quietly.

Look at her…

She isn’t just our mate.

She’s destined to change this world.

Karl felt a mixture of pride…

And shame.

He had rejected the woman now risking her life to save everyone.

Arnold slowly stood beside Karl, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth.

Karl glanced at him.

“You alright?”

Arnold gave a faint smile.

“I’ve survived worse.”

For a brief moment, the two men looked at each other.

The rivalry between them disappeared.

Only one thing mattered now.

Protecting Lyra.

Karl extended his hand.

“We fight together.”

Arnold looked at it for a second.

Then nodded.

“Together.”

Their hands clasped firmly.

Beta Damien smiled.

“Now that’s something I never thought I’d see.”

Malrik’s expression darkened.

“Touching.”

He raised both hands toward the crimson eclipse.

Dark clouds swirled violently.

The black crystal floating above him pulsed with sinister energy.

Blood-red lightning struck the battlefield.

The corrupted hunters roared as their bodies grew even larger.

Bones cracked.

Claws lengthened.

Their eyes completely lost their humanity.

Victor laughed.

“Now…”

“Kill them all!”

The monsters charged once again.

Karl shifted into his enormous black wolf.

Arnold transformed into his majestic silver wolf.

Lucien’s body erupted in dazzling blue light.

Unlike a werewolf…

His transformation was different.

His muscles expanded, silver markings spread across his skin, and his blue eyes glowed like burning ice.

He had become a true Lycan warrior.

Moonhaven’s soldiers stared in awe.

“So that’s…”

“A Lycan.”

Lucien gripped his greatsword.

“Let’s finish this.”

The three powerful warriors charged together.

Karl tore through corrupted hunters with crushing strength.

Arnold moved with incredible speed, striking enemies before they could react.

Lucien fought like a force of nature, every swing of his sword sending enemies flying.

For the first time…

Hope returned to the battlefield.

Behind them, Lyra knelt beside injured villagers.

Her hands glowed softly as she healed each wound.

An elderly woman took Lyra’s hands, tears streaming down her face.

“You saved my grandson.”

Lyra smiled gently.

“I’m just glad he’s alive.”

The little boy from earlier looked up at her with shining eyes.

“Are you really a princess?”

Lyra blinked.

She looked down at her simple dress, stained with dirt and blood.

Then she smiled.

“I don’t know.”

The boy grinned.

“You don’t look like a princess.”

She laughed softly.

“What do princesses look like?”

“They wear shiny crowns.”

Lyra reached over and gently ruffled his hair.

“I think being kind is more important than wearing a crown.”

Nearby villagers overheard her words.

One by one, they smiled.

Perhaps…

She already had the heart of a queen.

Across the battlefield, Malrik watched everything unfold.

His face remained calm.

But inside…

He was furious.

The people were beginning to believe in her.

That could never happen.

He slowly reached into his cloak and removed a small silver flute engraved with ancient runes.

Lucien’s expression changed instantly.

“No…”

Arnold looked at him.

“What is it?”

Lucien’s voice became urgent.

“Stop him!”

But it was too late.

Malrik raised the flute to his lips.

A haunting melody echoed across the valley.

The sound was strangely beautiful…

Yet unbearably cold.

Lyra’s smile vanished.

A sharp pain exploded inside her head.

She cried out, dropping to her knees.

The silver light surrounding her flickered violently.

Karl turned immediately.

“Lyra!”

Arnold sprinted toward her.

Lucien’s face filled with horror.

“The King’s Lament…”

He whispered.

“The flute that controlled the royal bloodline…”

Lyra clutched her head as broken memories flooded back faster than ever before.

A hidden tunnel beneath the palace.

Her mother’s desperate embrace.

Her father’s final battle.

And one terrifying face…

Not Malrik’s.

Someone else.

Someone standing behind him that terrible night.

A shadow…

Wearing a crown.

Lyra’s eyes flew open.

She whispered through trembling lips,

“There was…”

“…another traitor.”