*Starblood Dungeon, Night*The faint groan of chains echoed when prisoners shifted in their sleep. A sharp crack rang out like thunder.Then another.Torches flared as guards stumbled down the narrow stairwell, boots clattering against stone. When the first torchlight swept across the dungeon, the guards froze.Lesley stood in the center of her cell, one arm dangling free, the other still chained.The chain had snapped at the wall, the bolt ripped free of stone. Her hair was wild around her face, eyes glowing faintly Violet, as she stared at the torchlight.And she was laughing.The sound ricocheted across the dungeon, brittle and sharp, too loud in the cramped space.Aria, crouched on her cot in the cell opposite, pressed forward against the bars, her voice a hiss.“Yes. Yes! Show them. Show them you cannot be caged.”“By the moon…” one guard muttered, his hand tightening on his
*Starblood Dungeon, Deep Night* The silver shackles on Lesley's wrists burned with every movement, biting into flesh already exposed and swollen. But she wasn’t weak anymore. Not in her mind. Not since she had come. Loneliness had almost devoured her then, but Elira’s words had sunk deep, filling the hollow places. Every night that followed, she had let the whispers settle into her marrow, until she no longer felt abandoned but chosen. Elira’s whispers in her mind had already seeped deeper. “You are not broken, child. You are fury chained. And fury, when freed, is more dangerous than fire.” Lesley’s breath shuddered as she closed her eyes. Her wolf, once subdued and silent under the weight of silver, now prowled restlessly within. Its growl echoed in her chest, clawing at her ribs, fighting against the restraints. She could feel its hunger. Tonight felt different. Tonight the wolf didn’t feel caged. It felt fed. Fed by Elira’s words. Fed by her hatred. She thought of Cr
*Greenwood — Courtyard, Morning*The courtyard buzzed with movement as Greenwood prepared to send off its honored guests. Armor clinked, and wolves paced with the nervous energy that always came before a journey. The air had a faint chill that promised rain later in the day.Crystal adjusted the cloak at her shoulders, though it felt unnecessary now, her fire burned beneath her skin. She glanced toward Ryder, who stood a few feet away, speaking low with Alpha Thorne. His presence was commanding, but his eyes flicked to her every so often, as though reminding himself she was there, whole and safe.From the other end of the courtyard, Seer Veen approached. In her arms, a small bundle of herbs and charms clinked faintly. But her gaze was fixed not on Crystal, nor on Ryder, but on her daughter.“Alia,” Veen called softly.Alia rose from where she had been tightening the straps of a supply package. Ethan was at he
*Greenwood — Guest Quarters, Midnight*It was already nighttime. Everyone had retired for the night making Greenwood silent.The stillness was broken only by the distant cry of an owl.Inside, Crystal’s body was restless.Aelira stirred violently beneath her skin, clawing at her dreams until they changed into visions. One moment she was curled beneath Ryder’s arm, his warmth anchoring her to the present. The next, she was pulled into fire and smoke, a world half made of memory and half made of something that didn’t belong to her alone.Aelira’s voice rose, sharp and clear in her mind. Come, Flame.Crystal turned, and she was no longer in Greenwood. She stood in a wide clearing, though the earth was blackened and scorched, trees burned to husks. The air smelled of smoke. Her bare feet crunched over cracked stone, glowing faintly with veins of fire
*Silver Fang Stronghold — War Room, Night* The war room was built of black stone, lit only by braziers. A long oak table, scarred and darkened by centuries, stretched across the chamber. Maps of the wolf lands covered it, their edges curled and stiff with age, claw marks slashed through borders where wars had once raged. Greenwood’s crest was circled in blood-red ink, Ryder’s Starblood territory carved with deep gouges from the Alpha’s own claws. The Alpha of Silver Fang stood over it, broad-shouldered, his dark hair tied back, golden eyes glinting. His presence filled the chamber like a predator fills a den. “Too long,” he muttered, dragging one claw across the parchment map until it tore. His gaze fixed on Greenwood’s borders, his upper lip curling. “The High Alpha thinks silence is submission. That our stillness means defeat.” His Beta stood a step behind, lean where the Alpha was built of iron, his movements sharper, quicker, like a wolf made to move unseen through shadow
*Greenwood — The Moonlit Clearing*Tonight was the Festival of the Moon — a night older than kingdoms, older than dynasties. A night when wolves set aside war and duty, gathering to honor the bond between the packs and the moon that watched over them all.Crystal stood at the side of the clearing, her heart racing as she took it all in. Lanterns carved from crystal bark hung in the branches, glowing with captured moonlight. Long tables overflowed with roasted meat, fresh bread, and honeyed fruit. Wolves wore woven garlands of ivy and silver thread, their laughter filled the night.Once again, Greenwood was filled with joy. Pups darted between legs, warriors clasped each other’s shoulders in greeting, and songs rose toward the stars. And yet, as Crystal stepped forward, she felt dozens of eyes shift toward her.The Flame. Ryder’s mate. The prophecy come to life.Once, their stares woul