The Broken Moon

The air in the clearing was heavy with the reek of blood and ozone, the earth still trembling from the echoes of the second trial. Wolves limped back into formation, shoulders torn, muzzles slick with crimson, their howls carrying both defiance and exhaustion. The stars above blinked coldly, but the moon—half-veiled by roiling clouds—seemed fractured, as though the heavens themselves mirrored the wounds carved into the pack.

Lena stood at the center, her chest heaving, her skin streaked with dirt and blood not all her own. Her wolf prowled restlessly beneath her skin, a storm refusing to be caged. Beside her, Kade’s presence burned like an anchor. His arm brushed hers, steadying her, though his eyes remained sharp, flinty, locked on the hooded figures of the Council’s emissaries watching from the high stone dais.

The Envoy who had spoken before—the one with the pale eyes that seemed too old, too endless—stepped forward. His cloak swayed as if moved by an unseen wind. His voice, when it came, was deep and resonant, carrying to every ear in the clearing.

“You have endured fire. You have endured fang. The second trial is done. But the moon does not crown its chosen with blood alone. There is one trial yet.”

A ripple ran through the gathered wolves. Some snarled. Others pressed forward as though they might spring for the envoy’s throat. Kade did not move, but Lena felt the way his body coiled beside her, the way his fury simmered beneath the surface.

The envoy’s pale gaze shifted from the pack and fixed squarely on Lena. Her breath caught, her throat tightening as though invisible claws had wrapped around it.

“The last trial belongs not to your Alpha, nor to the will of the pack. It belongs to you, Lena Blackwood. Daughter of the broken line. Heir of the wolf that walks between worlds.”

A hush fell. The only sound was the wind threading through the blackened trees and the restless shuffle of paws on stone.

Lena’s pulse hammered. Me?

Her wolf surged, a guttural snarl pressing against her ribs. For the first time, it wasn’t just fury. It was recognition. As if it already knew what trial lay ahead.

Kade’s hand closed over hers, rough, grounding. “No.” His voice was a low growl meant only for her. “If they want to test anyone, let them come for me. You are not theirs to play with.”

But the envoy’s smile was cold, knowing. “The bond you speak of, Alpha, is the very reason the moon demands this. For the true measure of an Alpha pair is not dominance or bloodshed. It is unity. The last trial is of the soul. She must face herself—and by doing so, she will decide the fate of you all.”

The words fell like stones into the silence, heavy, irreversible.

Lena’s knees weakened, though she did not fall. She thought of the vision—the one that had clawed into her mind before, the one where blood washed the stones, where Kade fell, where Cassian’s shadow devoured all. Her throat tightened, and a bitter taste coated her tongue.

“What does it mean?” she asked, forcing her voice steady, though the air seemed too thin to hold it.

The envoy spread his arms wide, as though invoking the very heavens. “When the broken moon rises full, you will enter the Hollow of Souls. There, you will be torn from your mate, torn from your pack, and set before the wolf within. If you master it, the bond will forge unbreakable, and your claim to the Blackwood will stand eternal. If you fail—”

His pale eyes glittered. “Then not even your bones will return to this soil.”

The pack erupted—growls, snarls, cries of outrage. Kade’s roar split them all, his Alpha power crashing like thunder, silencing even the fiercest. He stalked forward, every line of him bristling with fury.

“You would tear her from me? You think you can decide the fate of my mate, my pack? We’ve bled enough for your trials!”

But Lena caught his arm, nails digging into his skin. The envoy’s words had already pierced her, cutting deeper than any blade. The Hollow of Souls. The wolf within. It wasn’t just a trial. It was the vision that had haunted her since the beginning—the one that always ended in loss.

Her voice was quiet, but it carried. “Kade. If I don’t do this… then Cassian wins. Then the Council wins. Then the vision comes true.”

His eyes locked on hers, wild with resistance. She had never seen him afraid—not in battle, not before Cassian’s threats, not even facing death. But now, she saw it. The terror of losing her.

“Lena,” he rasped, his forehead pressing to hers, his breath ragged. “You don’t understand. This trial… it’s not meant to prove you. It’s meant to break you. To break us.”

Her wolf rose then, fierce and untamed, and her voice came with its edge, sharp as a claw. “Then let them try.”

The envoy’s hand lifted, and the clouds above shifted, revealing the fractured moon in its pale glory. “Three nights,” he intoned. “When the broken moon is full, the Hollow will open. Prepare, child of the wolf. The end—or the beginning—awaits.”

The envoy stepped back, melting into the shadow of the other hooded figures. The pack bristled, their howls rising in fractured unison, torn between fear and faith.

Kade still held her, but his grip trembled now, not with weakness, but with rage barely chained. Lena lifted her gaze to the cracked face of the moon above and felt the pull of fate coil tighter around her throat.

The last trial was hers.

And this time, there would be no running.

The clearing emptied slowly, though the air still thrummed with unease. Wolves slunk back toward the dens, their eyes flicking to Lena as though she carried the weight of their survival on her shoulders—which, perhaps, she did. The Council’s emissaries had vanished like smoke, leaving behind only the echo of their decree and the fractured moon glaring down.

Kade did not release her hand until they were alone in the Alpha’s lodge. He slammed the door shut behind them, the sound cracking through the silence. His chest rose and fell with sharp, ragged breaths, the fury in him a living thing.

“They’ve gone too far,” he snarled, pacing the room like a caged predator. His fists flexed, nails biting into his palms. “First the trials of blood, now this? The Hollow of Souls is no test—it’s a grave.”

Lena leaned against the edge of the table, her hands gripping the wood until splinters bit her skin. Her wolf stirred restlessly, caught between dread and defiance. “Then tell me why my vision showed it. Why I’ve seen the Hollow every time I close my eyes.” Her voice wavered, then hardened. “This isn’t just their game, Kade. It’s mine. My wolf has been pulling me toward this from the beginning.”

Kade froze, his head snapping toward her. The firelight carved the harsh lines of his face into something savage, desperate. “You’re not a pawn in their prophecy. You’re mine. And I will not watch them tear you apart to satisfy their hunger for control.”

She crossed the room and seized his face between her bloodied palms, forcing his gaze down to hers. His eyes blazed, stormy and wild, but beneath the rage was fear—raw, unmasked.

“You said it yourself,” she whispered. “We don’t fight alone anymore. If the Hollow is meant to break me, then it will have to break us both.”

For a heartbeat, silence stretched between them, taut as a bowstring. Then Kade’s hands closed over her wrists, his grip bruising, his voice a growl that shook with more than anger.

“If I lose you—” His words fractured. He swallowed, jaw clenching. “If I lose you, Lena, then I lose everything.”

She pressed her forehead to his, her breath mingling with his ragged one. “Then don’t let go.”

The storm in him shuddered, broke. His mouth claimed hers in a kiss that tasted of fury, of desperation, of the bond neither trial nor Council could sever. His hands dragged her closer, anchoring her as though he could fuse her to his very skin. She met him with equal fire, her wolf howling inside, answering his with a vow that needed no words.

When they broke apart, both trembling, Lena whispered against his lips, “Three nights. That’s all we have. Teach me what I need to survive it.”

Kade’s breath came sharp, harsh, but resolve flickered in his eyes. He pressed his forehead to hers one last time, then pulled back with the deadly calm of a warrior preparing for war.

“Then we train. You’ll face your wolf before the Hollow does. And when that night comes, Lena—when the broken moon calls—you will not face it alone. Not while I still draw breath.”

Outside, the fractured moon drifted higher, spilling silver light across Blackwood soil. Lena stared at it through the window, her chest tightening. Her wolf shifted beneath her skin, restless, hungry, as though already preparing for the Hollow’s call.

Three nights. Three nights until she stood before herself.

And if she failed, nothing—not even Kade—could bring her back.