Talia's POV My heartbeat's all over the place, and I'm breathing funny.Alpha Axton is looking straight into my eyes, and I can tell he's got questions on his mind. How do I put this into words? This is something I can't share with anyone. At least until I figure out what it is.As Alpha Axton gets nearer, I feel this weird tingle all over-like someone just flipped a switch. The power goes out. That powerful energy and overwhelming force? They're gone for good.I blink and stretch my fingers, feeling a bit shocked. I just broke a tree branch with a light touch, and now I feel fine. This makes little sense.I tightened my fists, checking if there was any leftover strength, but nothing came up. It's like the effects of the potion were never there.Did I imagine it? Axton's eyes narrow as he checks out the broken branch lying on the ground. He looks tense, and I can tell he heard that noise.He steps closer and says, "Talia. I heard something snap from across town. That was the sound of
Alpha Bran's POVThe smell of blood fills the air, heavy and hard to breathe in. It's all chaos here on the battlefield with growls, biting jaws, and the heart-wrenching shouts of the fallen. My warriors and the rogues in a battle for goddess know why; their furs are all messed up with dirt and blood. Fabian stirs inside me, always on edge, his energy throbbing under my skin, craving more chaos.We've been going at it for what feels like forever, yet these rogues just keep coming back. They fight with a sense of urgency like they need to win. I just can't wrap my head around it.Williams battles alongside me, his actions quick and on point. He digs his claws into one enemy's chest and tears the rogue to shreds, breathing heavily. For a second, his eyes catch mine, and it's clear we're both thinking the same thing. Can't they just give it a rest?I sink my claws into the throat of a rogue who charges at me, twisting his head hard. I hear his sharp snap in the night, and suddenly he fal
Bella's POVI pace my room, my bare feet making no sound against the floor, but inside, my mind is screaming. The candle on my dresser flickers, casting restless shadows along the walls, mirroring the turmoil churning in my gut. I already know what happened on the battlefield. The whispers are everywhere in the hall, the tense energy thrumming in the Packhouse. Everyone wants to know who is carrying the forbidden child. It won't be long before Bran finds out the truth about him. He's their blood. The rogue's blood.Alpha Bran knows.Or at least, he will soon know, if those fools have not given him my identity already.I clutch my stomach instinctively, my hands pressing against the swell beneath my dress. My child. A child I have sworn to protect, no matter the cost. But how? Where do I run? I can't even go far in my condition before these people will catch up with me.For a second, my thoughts spiral to the rogue camp. The place I once called home, before I became Bran's Luna, the w
Bran's POVThe air smells of moist ground and pine, mixed with a sharp metallic whiff of blood that clings to my outfit. The palace is quiet but not peaceful. The whole place is thick with tension and secrets ready to unfold. I'm going to find out whatever Bella thinks she’s hiding.I enter the meeting room, with just one lantern lighting up the place and making shadows dance on the wooden walls. My Beta, Williams, is already up and looking serious as he stands before the long oak table. He knows the reason we're here. Everyone does. Rumors are all over the place. The murmurs are increasing in intensity, slamming into the boundaries of my territory.My mate may have betrayed me.My Luna might be carrying the blood of rogues.I refuse to believe it without proof. I refuse to act on instincts alone. But if this is true, if Bella has defiled the sanctity of this pack with a child that isn't mine, I will not show mercy."You're late," Williams says, his blue eyes assessing me, looking for
Bran's POVThe verdict has been spoken.Bella is guilty.The weight of my words settles over me like iron shackles, heavier than the judgment I passed. I watch as the warriors drag her away, her wrists bound in iron cuffs that suppress her wolf. She doesn't fight. She doesn't even look at me anymore.Not like she used to with love.She's silent as they lead her down the stone steps to the dungeons, where traitors rot. The woman I once called my Luna, the one I trusted above all, now wears the mark of betrayal like a second skin.But even as I stand here, every muscle coils, every breath ragged, something inside me clenches with an unbearable tightness.I should feel relief and vindicated, but I don't feel any of it.The scent of burning torches thickens in the air as the council begins to disperse, murmurs of the night's events carried on whispers. The warriors nod in approval. Elders exchange knowing glances. Even Williams, my Beta, wears the expression of a man who had expected this
Bella's POVChains bite into my wrists, cold and stiff. Their weight drags me down, a reminder of my fall from grace.I sit in the cubicle, my hands bound, my ankles locked together. The silence around me is suffocating, except for the faint murmur of voices beyond the thick wooden doors of the council chamber. They're deciding my fate.But I already know the verdict.I should have seen it coming the moment Bran looked at me with something worse than hatred. A man like him doesn't hold grudges; he simply wipes away the existence of those who betray him.A shudder runs through me, but I mask it with a measured breath. Fear is weakness. And I refuse to let them see me weak.The doors creak open.Light spills into the confined space, showing the strong faces of warriors who step forward to seize my arms. Their grip is firm, and so are their movements. They don't speak to me. I'm not worth words anymore.I'm dragged forward into the hall, the scent of burning torches mixing with the stale
Bran's POVMy room feels like it's closing in with all this silence.The torches on the walls flicker, throwing shadows that twist and turn like reminders of my past mistakes. It feels like a heavy weight on my chest, reminding me that all I've worked for is falling, thanks to Bella.I run my hand down my face, feeling my fingers shake a bit. I'm not sure if it's coming from being mad or just tired. Could be either one.I really shouldn't have let her back in.That thought crashes into me like a war hammer, leaving me gasping for air. I sensed something was off as soon as she came back. The way she talked with a stiff posture and her eyes scanning the room made it seem like she was mapping out all the exits and weak spots in me. She was often somewhere else mentally.Still, I brushed off the warnings.I let out a bitter laugh that sounded empty and piercing. Longing for something that felt like home before everything went to hell, Alpha Bran opened his gates to his enemy without a sec
Talia's POV The training ground is lit up with torches as the night approaches. The air is filled with the smell of wet soil and sweat mixed with burning wood. Warriors are out in groups, talking while the noise of swords clashing fills the air. I gulp, feeling my stomach twist and my nerves high with excitement. What's going on here? Alpha Axton told me it was time to start training and show my worth to the pack. I get it, the truth is I need to work on my self-control. The effect of the portion I took is still in my veins. It comes whenever my anger triggers and leaves when I'm calm. I need to learn how to control it before things get out of hand. I keep clenching and unclenching my fist to help myself feel more centred. "Alright, Talia.". Axton's voice is steady, but there's a sharpness in it like a challenge. He moves forward, gazing round the warriors before nodding toward a woman standing apart from the rest. Lyric. She's got a tall, slender body and tons of streng
POV: BellaI never planned to return to him, and definitely not here in his so-called chambers where everyone literally runs around when he barks orders. I don't want to be anyone's puppet. Not again. I vowed to rise all by myself and take my rightful position at the top.But life has a way of stripping your pride until all you have left are the bones of survival. And tonight, I walk on those bones-step by step-toward the place I swore I would never crawl back to.Ahead lie the gates of the Dark Council, adorned with ancient carvings and writhing shadows. They recognize me and that's because I don't seem to stay away from here. Even though I tried to stay away, they kept me like a ghost in their halls.I lower my hood. My face is raw from the wind and shame. I walk in freely as always. The guards don't stop me. He must've known I'd come.I walk into the chamber. It hasn't changed. The same looming pillars, carved obsidian thrones, and his suffocating presence cling to my lungs like sm
Marlik's POV (The Head of the Dark Council)They call me the Hand of Silence. The One Who Casts the Longest Shadow. But names lose meaning after centuries. What matters is control and purpose. And keeping chaos chained at the edge of the world.And yet, even now, even with the full strength of the Dark Council bent beneath my voice, my mind lingers elsewhere.Bella.Her name lingers like a thorn in my breath. It's distracting.I remember the first time I saw her. She was clearly broken, but not crushed. That's the type of woman I like. A young woman with fire behind her betrayal. Most who betray their pack run with shame and regret. But she held no regret. Only bitterness, and hunger-for power, recognition and for something more than what the Starlight Pack ever allowed her to be.She was cast out after her deception-the foolish plot to replace Bran's fated mate with a rogue's child in disguise. A gamble as bold as it was stupid. And when it failed, she expected death. Instead, she wa
Author's NarrationTalia stirs beneath her blanket, but her eyes remain shut. She's gone again, not in body, but in spirit.This is the second trance. The next gate is as the Moon Goddess has instructed.She wakes in a place where everything hums. The sky is gold. The ground feels like air. Light moves like water, rising and falling in waves. There's no wind, scent, or sound-just the heavy presence of something waiting.She stands, heart quiet but alert. She knows now not to speak because the Trials don't answer to voice, only to action. The Moonstone glows faintly on her chest, and she grazes it with her fingers. It feels warm and ticking, like her heartbeat.The light around her shifts, pulling itself into a straight path which leads her on as she takes cautious steps.After walking on air for some seconds, the golden air fades, and she finds herself in a clearing ringed by tall glass walls. Each one shows a version of her. In one, she's small again, clutching her mother's scarf. In
POV: The Dark Council Head "You should be scared of the man you're becoming. Despite all the powers and fights, you lack that inner peace you've always wanted. You have no mate, no children and most of all no joy. It's painful because I'm tied to you. And now I cannot even have my fair share of happiness just because you chose the dark part." Fen my wolf purrs. He won't just keep quiet for once. "I am Malrik. This is the life I have chosen, and as a part of me, you deal with it." When I said everyone turned against me when I was a nobody, I mean everyone including my wolf. Don't get this wrong. He was once my ally, but since I chose this part he turned. Fen and I had never agreed since then. At first, I was not happy about it, and I cursed Selene for giving me a wolf who was not always on the same page with me, but not anymore. He can think whatever or say anything. My plan stays. I had once been hidden. But not anymore. Now I shake the ground of every supernatural court. Vampi
POV: The Dark Council HeadI walk down the corridor in silence. The floor beneath my boots is cold, each step I take echoing through the hall. I don't enjoy the silence, but I've grown used to it. These halls remember everything. Every lie. Every betrayal. Every choice I made.She floats beside me, her spirit glowing faintly in the light. Elara. The keeper's grandmother. She was once a powerful wolf. Now, just a spirit. But still dangerous and still strong. I guess that's my mistake. I should have ended her life that night. I shouldn't have locked her spirit up. "You walked without permission," I say. My tone is calm, but it has a warning behind it. "Again."She lets out a dry laugh. "I don't belong to you."We keep walking. The torches along the walls flicker more brightly as she passes. Even fire respects her. That's always been the case."No," I object. "But you are bound here. You should know your boundaries. You can't just keep roaming about any time you feel like, you know; som
POV: The Old Keeper (The New Seer)I was never supposed to hear her voice again. But she never seems to stop calling and coming. The hall glows, a hint of her presence.The old runes on the walls emit a dim shimmer-not bright enough to chase away shadows, but enough to remind me that I'm not alone down here. I sit with my back against the cold stone wall, my legs stretched before me and one foot bouncing softly in rhythm with the whispers in my head. The whispers never stopped since she returned. Or let's say since she had been aware of my presence here.I remember once being brave and knowing who I was. Now I count moments by the number of breaths I can take before my past claws its way into my thoughts.And just like every time before, here she comes.Her voice reaches me before her form does-soft, low, and carried like wind through bone."You remember more than you should."It echoes through the hall like it's soaked in moonlight. Her hunting yet comforting voice. She's closer now
POV: The Old Keeper (The New Seer)I was meant to be the Stone Keeper. I was chosen right before birth. So says my grandmother. My parents were killed because they weren't supposed to bring me to life. But it happened somehow and they got punished for it. The stone started calling to me when I was young. I heard its voice, felt its pull and sometimes touched it. But that was in my dreams. I was happy, and proud or maybe the right word is overjoyed to be the chosen one.The Moon Goddess chose me. Not because someone told her to, or because I asked. The stone chose me itself. So I heard. I stood alone on Starlight Crest, high above the land, with the wind pushing at my back. The light of the moonstone reached out to me, surrounding me. I felt its warmth settle inside my chest. At that moment, I truly believed I had found my purpose.I was proud and brave. Maybe even foolish.That night, everything changed.I was meant to complete the trials to become the official Keeper. I had already
POV: The New Seer of the Dark Council (Council of the East)I see her.Even before the stars split.Even before the Moon Goddess lays her hand on her heart.I see the girl awakening.Not with my eyes or with the cursed black things that smoulder in my head and glow when they shouldn't. But deeper. The way roots see water underground. The way wolves hear a storm coming before the first drop falls.Talia.Her name echoes inside me like it's written behind my teeth.She stands in that dream-space, her spirit wide open, and I'm there-barely, briefly. A shadow just outside the light.I wasn't supposed to see her that clearly.But I did.And now I can't unsee her.Her light. Her fear. Her power.The Moonstone has chosen her, and the trials have begun.I sit motionless in the far end of the council chamber, body still as bone, even as the fire in the center crackles and spits dark orange sparks.I don't speak until I must.Until I feel them watching me. The Council of the East-seven old clo
POV: TaliaTalia's body is still in Misfit Town.She lies motionless in her bunk, one hand still faintly glowing with the pulse of the stone. Bran is the first to find her. He had followed the ripple of magic that burst through the trees when she touched the stone. Now, he kneels beside her, his face pale with fear, trying not to panic.But this isn't about her body. It's about where her spirit has gone.Talia opens her eyes to skyless light. She's no longer in the woods or her room or anything that feels familiar. Everything around her is soft and glowing, like the space between stars had taken shape.This place isn't real in the way real places are. It feels more like memory and meaning stitched together. There's no ground, but she doesn't fall. No air, but she can breathe.In front of her, a tall stone arch rises out of nothing. Symbols glow along its edges-the same ones that had appeared on her arms. The same rhythm and same pull.A voice echoes across the space.Talia, Keeper of