The Shadow's Mercy

"I can’t do this, Silas! My body isn't built for this!"

I gasped for air, my back hitting the cold stone floor of the training hall for the tenth time in an hour. My lungs felt like they were filled with crushed glass, and my muscles screamed in protest.

Silas stood over me, not a single hair out of place, his violet eyes tracking my every movement. "Your body is exactly what it needs to be. Your mind is the problem. You still think like a rejected omega. You’re waiting for a pack to tell you you're allowed to stand up."

"I was never trained to fight!" I snapped, wiping sweat and blood from my brow. "In the Blood Moon, the unshifted are kept in the kitchens or the archives. I was a clerk, Silas! Not a soldier!"

"And look where that got you," he retorted, his voice cold and sharp. "Betrayed by your blood and discarded like trash. Do you think Sarah is practicing her embroidery right now? No. She’s practicing her 'Luna' walk. She’s picking out the flowers for the wedding she stole from you."

The mention of Sarah’s name acted like a jolt of electricity. I forced myself up, my legs shaking. "Again."

Silas narrowed his eyes. "Good. Don't use your eyes. They lie to you. Use the mark."

He lunged. He was a blur of shadow and lethal intent. In the Blood Moon pack, an Alpha’s speed was legendary, but Silas was something else entirely. He didn't just move; he seemed to rewrite the space between us.

I closed my eyes. The mark.

I focused on the heat in my palm. Suddenly, the world didn't go dark. It turned into a map of silver and gold threads. I could feel Silas’s heartbeat—a heavy, rhythmic drum—and the rush of displaced air. I stepped to the right, a fraction of a second before his fist whistle past my ear.

I didn't stop. I channeled that boiling heat into my elbow and slammed it backward, connecting squarely with his ribs.

Crack.

Silas grunted, stepping back. He touched his side, a look of genuine surprise flickering across his face before it was replaced by a dark, hungry grin.

"There she is," he whispered. "The Queen of Thorns."

"I broke your rib," I breathed, my heart racing with a different kind of adrenaline. "I actually hit you."

"You did more than hit me, Elara. You burned me." He pulled back his shirt. A black scorch mark in the shape of a hand was seared into his skin. "That’s Vespera fire. It doesn't hurt the flesh; it hurts the soul. If you’d put more weight behind it, I’d be on the floor."

I stared at my hand. The violet glow was receding, leaving my skin pale and trembling. "I don't understand. If I have this power, why didn't I shift at sixteen? Why did everyone think I was broken?"

"Because you were trying to be a wolf," Silas said, walking toward me. He didn't stop until he was in my personal space, his scent of midnight air and iron surrounding me. "You were trying to fit into a mold that was too small for you. You don't have a wolf, Elara. You have a Dragon’s soul trapped in a wolf’s world."

I froze. "A... what? That’s impossible. Dragons are myths. Extinct for millennia."

"So were the Vesperas," he countered. "Until you jumped into my river. The Blood Moon didn't reject you because you were weak. They rejected you because their instincts knew you were their natural predator. They were afraid, Elara. Fenris was terrified of you."

"He didn't look terrified," I spat, the memory of his smug face burning in my mind. "He looked like he was enjoying himself."

"Bullies often do when they think the victim can't bite back." Silas reached out, tilting my chin up. "Tomorrow is the Coronation. The 'Royal' wedding. Every Alpha from the seven territories will be there. They expect a funeral for a dead girl. Instead, they’re getting a reckoning."

"How do we even get in? He’s barred the borders."

"He barred the borders to wolves," Silas said, a cruel twist to his lips. "He didn't bar the borders to the Shadow King’s carriage. You’ll be by my side. And Elara?"

"Yes?"

"When we walk into that room, I don't want you to look at Fenris. I don't want you to look at Sarah. I want you to look at the throne. Because by the time the sun rises the next day, it won't be theirs anymore."

The door to the training hall creaked open. A young maid stood there, trembling. "My Lord... the dress has arrived. And the... the other thing you requested."

Silas nodded. "Go. Get ready. Transform the girl into the nightmare they deserve."

The dress was a masterpiece of malice. It was made of silk so dark it looked like poured ink, with silver embroidery that looked like thorns winding up my ribs. It didn't hide the mark on my hand; it framed it.

I stood before the full-length mirror, barely recognizing the woman looking back. My hair, once dull and matted from the river, was now a shining river of chestnut, pinned back with obsidian clips. The bruise on my cheek from Fenris’s necklace had been healed by Silas’s touch, leaving my skin flawless.

A knock at the door. Silas walked in, dressed in a formal black suit that made him look like a god of the underworld. He stopped in his tracks, his violet eyes darkening as he took me in.

"You look..." He paused, his voice dropping an octave. "Lethal."

"That was the goal, wasn't it?" I turned, my heels clicking against the marble. "Is it time?"

"The carriage is waiting. But first..." He held out a small velvet box.

I opened it. Inside was a necklace. It wasn't the heavy, clunky silver of the Blood Moon. It was a thin cord of woven shadow-silk, holding a single, massive violet diamond.

"The Heart of Vespera," Silas said. "It was stolen from your people during the Great Purge. I reclaimed it from a black-market auction in the South. It belongs to the true ruler of this land."

He stepped behind me to fasten it. His fingers were cold against my neck, sending a different kind of shiver down my spine. "Do you feel it?"

As the diamond touched my skin, a roar echoed in my mind—not a howl, but a deep, tectonic rumble. My vision sharpened. I could hear the heartbeat of every guard in the castle. I could feel the very earth beneath the manor.

"I feel... everything," I whispered.

"Good," Silas said, stepping back and offering his arm. "Let’s go crash a wedding."

The drive to the Blood Moon territory was silent. The closer we got, the more the air felt heavy with the scent of pine and betrayal.

As we pulled up to the grand packhouse, the music was already blaring. It was a celebration of my "death" and their "glory." Hundreds of expensive cars lined the driveway.

The carriage door opened. Silas stepped out first, his presence alone silencing the guards at the gate. Then, he reached back and took my hand.

I stepped out into the light of the full moon.

The guards gasped. One dropped his spear. "L-Lady Elara?"

"That’s 'Queen Elara' to you," Silas said, his voice a low growl that made the guards' knees buckle.

We walked toward the grand ballroom doors. I could hear Fenris’s voice inside, boisterous and arrogant, giving a toast.

"To my beautiful Luna, Sarah! And to the strength of the Blood Moon, finally free of the dead weight that held us back!"

The crowd cheered.

Silas looked at me. "Ready?"

I gripped his arm, my knuckles white. The violet mark on my hand began to pulse, synchronized with the diamond at my throat. "Open the doors, Silas. I want to see his face."

With a wave of Silas’s hand, the massive oak doors didn't just open—they were blasted off their hinges.

The music stopped. The cheering died. Three hundred wolves turned as one to the entrance.

There, in the middle of the room, stood Fenris and Sarah, draped in white and gold. Fenris held a wine glass aloft, his face frozen in a mask of pure shock. Sarah’s glass shattered on the floor, the red wine staining her white dress like blood.

"Hello, Fenris," I said, my voice carrying to every corner of the silent room. "I heard there was a party. I hope I’m not too late for the cake."

"Elara?" Fenris stammered, his face turning a sickly shade of gray. "You... you’re dead. You jumped into the river. No one survives the Silver Vortex!"

"The river didn't want me," I said, stepping forward, each click of my heels sounding like a heartbeat. "It seems I have a higher purpose than being your 'dead weight.'"

Sarah recovered first, her face contorting with rage. "You! You dare show your face here? You’re a banished omega! Guards! Kill her! She’s trespassing!"

The guards hesitated, looking at Silas, who stood behind me like a mountain of shadow.

"The first one to move," Silas said softly, "will be the first one I feed to the abyss."

Fenris growled, his Alpha aura flaring, trying to intimidate the room. "Silas Vane. This is a private pack matter. You have no right to be here."

"I have every right," Silas countered, stepping level with me. "I’m here as the escort of the rightful Sovereign of these lands. And according to the ancient laws—laws your 'pack' seems to have forgotten—a rejected mate of the Blood Moon line who survives the trial of the river has the right to challenge the Alpha for everything he owns."

"Challenge?" Sarah laughed hysterically. "She can't even shift! What is she going to do? Audit his taxes?"

"I don't need to shift to break you, Sarah," I said, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.

I raised my hand. The violet mark glowed so brightly it blinded the front row.

"Fenris Thorne," I announced, the power of the Vespera diamond vibrating in my chest. "I am Elara Vance, the Last Primordial. I don't just challenge you for your title. I challenge you for your life."

Fenris looked at the mark, then at Silas, then back at me. Realization finally dawned on him, and with it, a primal, gut-wrenching fear.

"The Vespera mark..." he whispered. "It's impossible."

"Nothing is impossible," I said, stepping into the center of the ballroom. "Now, Alpha. Shift. Let’s see how your golden wolf fares against the daughter of the storm."