There was something different in the way the wind moved through the trees. It carried whispers. Not of wolves. Not of spirits. But of me. “You feel it, don’t you?” Kael asked softly, brushing his hand down my arm. “The shift.” We stood at the edge of the forest, watching the sun dip beneath the horizon. The pack house glowed in the distance—warm, full of laughter and healing. But I didn’t feel peace. I felt a storm in my bones. “She’s not just in me,” I murmured. “She’s marking me. She’s trying to take over.” “You won’t let her.” I wanted to believe that. But this morning, I almost slapped a pup who startled me. Last night, I almost growled at Kael when he reached for me in the dark. And when Liam looked up at me with those bright, innocent eyes—I flinched. Because I wasn’t sure which version of Elara he was seeing anymore. The Luna. Or the shadow. ⸻ The Elders returned that evening. “Something is brewing,” the oldest said, her voice cracked like ancient bark. “You
I couldn’t sleep that night. Liam was curled against my chest, his tiny heartbeat thudding like a metronome, steady and sweet. Kael sat just a few feet away, his eyes trained on the window, glowing faintly in the dark. But I couldn’t rest. Because I felt her. She was out there. Watching. Waiting. And no matter how many times I told myself it was over—that Damon was gone, that the void was sealed, that we were safe—my blood whispered otherwise. “Still can’t sleep?” Kael asked gently. I shook my head. “She’s here. I know she is.” He nodded once. “I feel it too.” “What do we do?” “We wait.” I exhaled, pressing a kiss to Liam’s hair. I wasn’t going to let her take anything from me. Not him. Not Kael. Not me. ⸻ The next day, it started. Animals went quiet in the woods. Birdsong vanished. Wolves grew restless, howling in the middle of the day. And my reflection? Started moving when I didn’t. First it was subtle. A blink out of rhythm. A
Liam. I saw him before anything else. His small body locked in Damon’s arms, squirming, terrified—but alive. “Mom!” he screamed, reaching toward me. My heart dropped to my knees. Kael moved beside me instantly, but I held up a hand. Not yet. Damon’s smile was slow, cruel. “You really made it back. I’m impressed. You even brought your little Alpha dog. How romantic.” “Let him go,” I said. My voice shook—not with fear, but power. Old. Divine. Dangerous. Damon didn’t flinch. “Oh, I will. But first… we’re going to talk. You and me. About choices. About power. About what you owe me.” I stepped forward, the air thickening with every breath I took. “I owe you nothing.” His eyes glittered. “No? Then why did the void spit you back out instead of swallowing you whole? You think you’re chosen? You’re a weapon, Elara. Always have been. You were forged to destroy, not protect.” I glanced at Liam. His bottom lip trembled. He was scared, but he was watching. I had to be
We charged. Kael’s golden wolf barreled beside me, his fur blazing like a comet, his eyes wild with the kind of fury that gods forgot mortals could feel. My magic poured from me in waves, white-hot and wild, tinged now with something deeper—red. Not rage, but claim. The part of me I once ran from now surged with power in my veins. The ancient god loomed above us, all bone and silence and shadow. It didn’t breathe. It consumed. Its arms stretched like branches of a dying tree, its face a hollow void, and when it roared— The sky tore. But we didn’t stop. Not now. Not ever. I threw the Moonfang first. It spun like a silver star, slicing through the air and burying itself in the creature’s chest. It didn’t stagger—it laughed, a sound like grinding glass. “You bring mortal weapons into a place that devours time?” it hissed. I skidded to a stop, raised my arms, and summoned the Luna Star from the center of my soul. “No,” I said. “I bring truth.” And I unleashed it.
She tilted her head, my mirror in every way except the eyes. Mine burned with fury. Hers shimmered with absence. Like the moon right before it goes dark. I tightened my grip on the Moonfang. Kael stepped beside me, still unsteady but upright. “What is she?” “Me,” I said. “Or who I’d be… if I stopped caring.” Shadow Elara smiled wider. “You make it sound like a bad thing.” “She’s a fracture,” Kael muttered. “A product of the void. You bled yourself into this place, and it took that blood. Fed on it. Shaped it.” “I didn’t ask for this,” I said through gritted teeth. She laughed. “No. But you needed me. And now you’re wondering—how much easier would it be if you stopped bleeding for everyone else?” The air pulsed around her like a second heartbeat. The void liked her. She was made of its silence, its secrets. And it was offering her to me. As an upgrade. “I’m not broken anymore,” I told her. She shrugged. “Maybe. But you’re still afraid.” “No,” I said, stepping forward. “Yo
“Kael,” I whispered. The name fell from my lips like prayer and ash, cracking under the weight of a truth I couldn’t bear. He was dying. The void around us shimmered, pulsing in time with the blood pouring from his chest. His body was still. Too still. Only the faintest rise and fall of his ribs told me he was still tethered to this realm. I cradled him in my arms, pressing both hands over the wound where the ancient thing had pierced him—claw or blade, I didn’t know. I only knew it was deep. Too deep. “Don’t you dare,” I breathed, voice trembling. “Don’t you dare leave me. Not now. Not after everything.” His eyes fluttered open. Barely. “Elara…” His voice was a scrape of breath. “I felt it. The bond…” I couldn’t say it. He already knew. The sacred tether that had linked us heart-to-heart had snapped like fraying silk. But Kael smiled anyway—faint, broken, full of the kind of love that breaks people. “It’s not gone,” he whispered. “Just… hidden. Buried. Like me.” “Don’t