Chapter 29: Ties That Bind

The world didn’t slow down after the kiss.

If anything, it moved faster.

Raven awoke the next morning to the sharp cry of ravens flying overhead and a knock on her door that rattled the hinges.

She opened it to find Maya standing there, breathless.

“You’re needed in the Great Hall,” Maya said. “Now.”

Raven didn’t waste a second.

By the time she arrived, the hall was already full—guards, council members, village elders, and a few high-ranking Alphas from allied packs. At the head of the room stood Kade, tall and imposing, his expression grim.

At his side, a man stood shackled.

His face was bruised, blood dripping from his nose. But what caught Raven’s attention were his eyes—obsidian black, filled with something ancient and cold.

Kade turned as she entered, motioning for her to join him.

“This is the Shadow Wolf who crossed into our borders last night,” Kade said to the room. “He was found near the Crescent Ruins, chanting in the old tongue.”

Gasps rippled through the hall.

Raven's blood ran cold.

The Crescent Ruins were sacred—a burial ground for the old bloodlines. No rogue had dared enter it in centuries.

Kade looked at her, eyes hard. “We believe he was trying to awaken something.”

Raven stared at the man, who watched her in return like a snake sizing up prey. His lips curved.

“You’re the one they whisper about,” he rasped, voice cracked from lack of water. “Moonborn. Child of the broken prophecy.”

“I am,” Raven said coolly. “Who sent you?”

He chuckled. “She’s waking up, little wolf. The real queen. The one buried in stone.”

“What are you talking about?” Raven demanded.

But he only smiled—an eerie, broken grin that sent shivers down her spine.

Then, before anyone could stop him, the man bit down on something in his mouth—something sharp.

A hiss. A gurgle.

Blood poured from his lips, and he collapsed in a heap.

Dead.

The hall erupted into chaos.

Kade swore under his breath, barking orders to the guards to seal the gates and alert the patrols. But Raven stood frozen.

She hadn’t missed what he said.

The one buried in stone.

Could it be her mother?

Or worse... the queen from the ancient legends—the one who turned against the Moon Goddess and was imprisoned beneath the mountain?

“What do we do now?” Maya asked, pulling Raven from her thoughts.

Raven looked around the room—at the fear in the eyes of warriors and Alphas who had faced a thousand battles but didn’t know how to fight what was coming.

“We prepare,” she said.

And she meant it.

That afternoon, she returned to the Archives with Kade and Maya. The carved doors groaned as they opened, revealing the still-glowing murals on the walls. This time, Raven didn’t hesitate.

She walked to the third mural—the one partially hidden in shadow.

The Forgotten Queen.

She stared at the image: a woman with silver hair, blood on her hands, and eyes that burned with moonlight. Around her neck was the same crescent mark Raven bore.

“She wasn’t just a myth,” Raven whispered. “She was real.”

Kade nodded. “They called her Liora. She tried to bend the Moon Magic to her will. Said she could reshape fate. The Ancients bound her beneath the stone before she could destroy the balance.”

Raven’s throat tightened.

“What if someone is trying to awaken her?” she asked. “And what if... they succeed?”

Kade’s jaw clenched. “Then you’re the only one who can stop her.”

The weight of it hit her like a mountain.

That night, as Raven lay in her chambers, sleep refused to come.

She slipped out quietly, moving through the quiet palace toward the western wing. Her feet knew where she was going before her mind did.

The training yard.

She needed to feel grounded.

To hit something.

To fight.

But as she reached for a practice blade, a figure stepped from the shadows.

“Couldn’t sleep either?”

It was Kyla.

Raven sighed. “You here to challenge me again?”

But Kyla only shrugged. “No. I came to train.”

Silence.

Then Raven tossed her a blade.

They began sparring without a word—just the sound of wood meeting wood, grunts of effort, footsteps shifting in the sand. It was messy at first, wild and sharp. But soon, something changed.

They moved together like dancers.

Like rivals who were slowly, painfully, learning to trust.

By the time they stopped, both were panting.

Kyla lowered her blade. “I still don’t like you.”

Raven smirked. “That’s fine. I don’t need you to like me. Just fight with me when the time comes.”

Kyla nodded once. “You have my blade.”

And maybe, Raven thought, that was enough.

Later, as dawn crept across the horizon, Raven stood at her balcony and looked over the kingdom.

War was coming.

Magic was rising.

And the girl she had been—the rejected, the hidden, the unsure—was gone.

In her place stood something new.

Not just a Luna.

Not just the Moonborn.

But a warrior queen forged in prophecy and pain.

And when the storm came, she would meet it head-on.