They walked back under a bruised dawn sky, the scent of smoke and iron still clinging to their clothes.They had found the Crimson Watchers’ hidden outpost near the eastern ridge—a hollowed-out ruin veiled with illusions, where dark magic simmered and prisoners were drained for rituals. They tore it down to its bones, leaving the stones soaked with the blood of the watchers who had taken too many lives.But it wasn’t the end.Not yet.They had only wiped out one of the hideouts, and Ariya felt it in her marrow that many more remained, waiting like snakes in the dark.Ember walked beside her, silent, her hair tied back, her knives still sheathed but fingers twitching now and then, as if ready for another fight. Maelin moved on Ariya’s other side, eyes scanning the tree lines, cloak fluttering as dawn wind pushed against them.They passed the sentries stationed at the forest’s edge, receiving nods of respect, the young warriors bowing as Ariya led her people home.The pack’s main hall w
“He’s here.” Maelin’s voice was barely a whisper, yet it cut through the smoke and the quiet rustle of settling ash as Ariya turned, her golden eyes narrowing. The cold dawn breeze lifted her hair as she scanned the treeline, the world slowing, the sound of crackling embers and distant moans from the wounded Watchers fading into silence. And then he stepped out. He moved like shadow, like mist at dawn—tall, broad-shouldered, his dark cloak fluttering around him as he emerged from the trees. His black hair fell in damp waves, a few strands clinging to sharp cheekbones dusted with ash. His lips curled in a faint, unreadable smile as his gaze swept over the ruins, the fallen Watchers, the dying fires. But it was his eyes that struck her most. Red. Deep, living red, like embers caught in a storm, glowing softly under the pale dawn, and when they met hers, Ariya felt something seize in her chest—a quiet, breathless pull, like the world itself had stilled to watch him. “Who is that
The moon was a swollen red eye over Stone Hollow when Ariya arrived. They moved in silence, cloaks wrapped tight, slipping between shadows that bent like old prayers under the cold night. Ember led them along goat paths and deer trails, every step measured, every breath quiet, while Maelin watched the treeline, hands near her daggers. Stone Hollow was no longer a village. It was a nest for the Crimson Watchers, their sigils painted in dried blood on doorposts, their sentries prowling like restless hounds. Ariya studied them from a ridge, her eyes reflecting the moon’s burn. Her mind was sharp, clear, the rage from Kael’s injury tempered into focus. She would not let them strike first again. “We do this fast,” Ariya whispered, her gaze locked on the streets below. “We finish this before dawn.” “And if they bring Veylan into this?” Maelin asked, dark eyes cautious. Ember’s jaw tightened. “Then we remind him who she is.” They descended, moving like ghosts. Maelin’s kn
The moon hung low over the Moonspire, heavy with promise, casting long, silver shadows across the courtyard. Inside the expansive war room, usually reserved for the most critical of pack decisions, the air pulsed with a fierce, barely contained energy. Ariya stood at the head of the long oak table, tracing her fingers across the carved map laid across its polished surface. The map was not just a physical representation of their territory, but a living, breathing entity, marked by the blood and tears of her pack. To her right, Ember stood, arms folded, eyes sharp and unblinking, her presence a silent anchor. To her left, Maelin adjusted the black band around her wrist, a nervous habit, her gaze thoughtful as she absorbed every detail. Kael, his chest still heavily bandaged, leaned against the doorway, refusing to rest, his gaze fixed on Ariya, a silent sentinel.Around the table, a dozen other faces were gathered: the grizzled Alpha-ranked warriors who commanded the pack’s various patr
The forest burned.Night bled into the glow of flames as shadows twisted between trees, the hiss of embers and the crackle of splintering bark louder than the screams. The scent of pine and ash choked the air, a grim perfume for the battle that raged. Ariya moved like a storm through the clearing, her eyes glowing gold, a primal fury fueling every strike. Claws extended, she cut down the last of the Crimson Watchers that had dared to breach Shadow Fang’s perimeter, their dark tunics and crude weapons no match for her honed strength. Each swing was precise, each kill swift, driven by the desperate need to protect her pack.She had almost made it back to the Moonspire, the immediate threat seemingly neutralized, when she felt it—a cold prickle along her spine, that gut-deep warning she had learned never to ignore. It was the whisper of danger, a shadow within shadows. Her senses screamed, urging her to move, to react.She spun just as the Crimson attacker lunged from the darkness, a cur
The moonlight was thin over the courtyard as Ariya stood at the balcony, arms crossed as she watched her warriors spar below. She was called the Moon Queen now, the Alpha of Shadow Fang in all but official title, yet the silver crown remained locked in the Moonspire’s vault, untouched. Its weight, even from a distance, felt like a phantom ache on her brow, a promise and a burden she was not yet ready to fully embrace.Maelin’s words from days ago lingered in her mind: "Are you ready to trust him?" The question had been about Kael, about the former heir of a rival pack now serving as her second.Ariya had answered with silence, but the truth was clear—she had accepted Kael’s oath, yet trust was not a single act but a series of choices made day after day, battle after battle. It was a fragile thing, easily shattered, especially when the very history of their kind was riddled with treachery.The coronation could not happen yet, not until she was certain every threat to her people was dis