Chapter nineteen:The claiming moon

The Claiming Moon rose blood-red over the treetops.

It was a sacred night—meant for unity, for bonds to be declared, honored, and witnessed. But tonight, the scent of war poisoned the wind.

Brian stood at the edge of the ceremonial cliff, his wolf form tense, silver fur shimmering under the moonlight. Behind him, Alex shifted slowly back into human form, breathing hard, clutching the cloth Rachel had handed him—an ancient ceremonial robe, white with gold trim, meant for Omegas of noble lineage.

All around them, the pack watched in breathless anticipation.

And in the shadows beyond the circle, Jerik and the rogues waited.

Donovan raised his voice above the rising wind. “Let it be known, under the gaze of the Moon Goddess, that this bond has survived every test. Let the Claiming Moon bless their union—and grant them the strength to lead.”

Brian turned to Alex and extended his hand.

But before Alex could step forward, Jerik burst into the circle, flanked by three towering rogue Alphas and a few trembling Betas from distant territories.

“You hold a ceremony,” he hissed, “while your people fracture and fall.”

Brian’s growl echoed, his body bristling. “You weren’t invited.”

Jerik’s smirk widened. “I don’t need an invitation to claim what’s mine.”

He pointed at Alex.

“That bloodline belonged to my pack—before your ancestors betrayed us and stole our lands. I am here to take it back.”

Rachel stepped forward. “Your pack was banished for murdering children and rejecting the old ways.”

Jerik’s eyes narrowed. “We were punished for surviving. For evolving. And now, you’ve brought one of us back into your fold.”

Alex’s voice rang out, clear and steady. “I am not one of you.”

Jerik’s smile faltered. “A wolf can’t run from his blood.”

Brian stepped in front of Alex, voice dark with fury. “He’s not running. He’s mine. Chosen by the Goddess. And if you touch him—”

Jerik lunged.

The circle exploded into chaos.

Wolves collided, teeth bared and claws slashing under the blood-red moon. Screams echoed as the rogues surged forward, met by loyal pack warriors. Rachel shifted mid-run, slamming a rogue to the ground with practiced grace. Daniel fought beside her, protecting the council members.

Brian and Jerik clashed with the force of a thunderstorm—two Alpha bloodlines battling for dominance. Trees snapped. Blood sprayed. The earth shook beneath them.

Alex ran through the circle, trying to avoid rogue betas, his instincts screaming at him to hide—but his heart wouldn’t let him abandon Brian.

When he saw Jerik sink his teeth into Brian’s shoulder, Alex didn’t hesitate.

He screamed—and shifted.

For the first time, his Omega wolf form took shape, sleek and silver like moonlight.

He launched forward, knocking Jerik back with surprising strength.

The moment his body touched Brian’s, their bond erupted into a blinding burst of energy—white, pulsing, crackling like lightning. The rogues nearest them stumbled, recoiling.

Jerik fell backward, panting. “What—what are you?”

Donovan shouted from the side. “They are the future of this pack. And you… are its past.”

As one, the pack began to howl—long, loud, unified.

The rogues, seeing the tide turn, retreated into the forest, dragging the injured Jerik with them.

When the last howl faded, the Claiming Moon reached its highest point.

Brian turned to Alex, bloodied but smiling.

“Still want to be mine?” he asked.

Alex laughed, shaking under the weight of everything. “I always was.”

They kissed, under the moon, the pack finally accepting—not just their love, but their leadership.

This was more than a bond.

It was a beginning.