Chapter 28: The Mark of the Moon

The descent from the Archives was quiet.

The kind of quiet that hums with power.

Raven walked beside Kade in silence, her footsteps light on the moss-covered ground as they made their way back from the mountain’s base. The forest felt different now—more aware, as though it too recognized the blood that pulsed in her veins.

The Crescent Bloodline.

The Ancients had named her.

And now, there was no going back.

Her hands trembled slightly, not from fear, but from the aftershock of awakening. Magic curled under her skin like lightning waiting to be unleashed. It was no longer a whisper but a living, breathing thing. Something that knew her better than she knew herself.

“You’re quiet,” Kade said, his voice breaking through the stillness.

Raven glanced at him. His face was unreadable, his jaw tense. Ever since the Ancients had knelt to her, something had shifted between them. A fragile thread pulled taut by destiny, secrets, and something neither of them dared to name yet.

“I’m just… trying to understand what this means,” she murmured. “The prophecy. The power. My mother…”

“You’re not alone,” he said. “Whatever this becomes, we face it together.”

She wanted to believe that. She wanted to hold onto it like a lifeline.

But deep down, she felt the weight of her bloodline pressing on her chest. The Crescent Blood wasn’t just rare—it was dangerous. People would come for her. Enemies. Kings. Rogues who bowed to no throne.

And even within the pack… there were those who wouldn’t accept her.

As if on cue, a rustle echoed from the trees ahead. Guards stiffened, hands on hilts. Raven froze.

A figure stepped out.

Tall. Dressed in warrior garb. Blonde hair braided back. Eyes cold as steel.

Kyla.

Raven exhaled slowly.

Kyla’s gaze swept over her like a blade. “So it’s true,” she said. “You’re the Moonborn.”

“I didn’t ask for this,” Raven said calmly.

Kyla snorted. “Neither did I. But I earned my place in this pack. Fought for it. You… just walked in. Now the Ancients are kneeling, and the Alpha’s looking at you like you hung the stars.”

Kade’s voice cut like ice. “Watch your tone.”

But Raven stepped forward, raising a hand.

“No,” she said. “Let her speak. I want to hear it.”

Kyla crossed her arms. “You want to play queen, Raven? Fine. But understand this—power like yours draws more than prophecy. It draws war. And when it comes, don’t expect everyone to fight for you.”

The words stung. Because they were true.

Raven didn’t respond. She turned and walked past Kyla without a word, head high.

She didn’t need everyone to believe in her.

She just needed to believe in herself.

Back at the palace, the war table had turned into a command center.

Maps were unrolled. Markers placed. Reports gathered from border scouts.

Kade stood at the head, flanked by Beta Roland and two senior commanders. Raven remained at his side, now an official member of the war council—though some still side-eyed her with thinly veiled doubt.

“Our scouts report strange movement near the Shadow Border,” Roland said, pointing at the southern edge of the map. “No confirmed breaches, but the energy is shifting. Like a storm gathering.”

“It’s him,” Raven said. “The one from the East Wing. He’s waking something up.”

Kade’s jaw tightened. “Then we prepare the defenses. Double patrols near the border. Alert the outer villages. And send a raven to the Crescent Peak elders—we’ll need their wisdom.”

“We’ll also need a show of strength,” Roland added. “The rogues are restless. Some believe the Moonborn is a myth. If they see Raven command magic—”

“I don’t even know how to control it yet,” Raven interrupted. “I don’t want to set the forest on fire just to prove I’m real.”

Kade’s gaze met hers. “You won’t be alone. We’ll train you.”

Raven nodded slowly. She wanted control. Not just to protect herself—but to protect the pack that was slowly becoming hers.

That night, she stood alone in the moon garden.

Silver petals shimmered under starlight. The wind carried whispers through the trees, like distant lullabies. Raven knelt by the pool at the center of the garden, staring at her reflection.

There it was—the mark.

A glowing crescent just beneath her collarbone, visible only in moonlight. Proof of everything.

“Scared?”

She turned. Kade stood at the edge of the garden, hands in his pockets.

Raven offered a small smile. “A little.”

“Good,” he said, stepping closer. “Fear means you care about the outcome.”

They stood in silence for a moment. Then Kade took her hand gently.

“Let me show you something,” he said.

He led her to the training field, now quiet and bathed in silver light. He tossed her a wooden sword.

She caught it with raised brows. “What’s this?”

“Magic is only part of who you are,” he said. “But power… true power… comes from knowing how to fight for what you love.”

He lunged.

She dodged instinctively, swinging back. Their wooden swords clashed with a satisfying crack. She laughed—genuinely—for the first time in days.

They sparred until sweat soaked her hair and her heart pounded from more than just the movement.

Kade dropped his sword and stepped closer, breath uneven. His hand cupped her jaw, thumb brushing her cheek.

“I’ve fought battles,” he said quietly. “But you... you’re the war I never saw coming.”

Raven’s breath caught.

And then his lips were on hers.

Not gentle. Not soft.

This was a kiss forged in fire. In everything unspoken between them.

When they pulled apart, she was breathless.

“I don’t know what’s coming,” she whispered. “But I want to fight it with you.”

Kade leaned his forehead against hers.

“Then we face the storm together.”

And somewhere deep in the night, the Moon mark on her chest glowed brighter—like a promise.