Se connecterThe curse did not announce itself with pain.It came with silence.Darius felt it first in the quiet hours before dawn, when Seraphina still slept curled against his chest, her breathing soft and steady. The bond between them glowed warmly—too warmly. It pulsed in a way that made his wolf uneasy, as if something beneath the connection was tightening, coiling like a snare.He stared at the ceiling, jaw clenched.The curse was awake.Seraphina stirred, sensing the shift even in sleep. Her brow furrowed, fingers tightening in his shirt. “Darius…” she murmured.He froze.The curse reacted instantly to her awareness—like a predator noticing it had been seen.A sharp pressure sliced through his chest, not physical pain but something deeper, more insidious. His wolf growled low in his mind, fighting to surface.Seraphina’s eyes flew open, glowing faintly. “What’s wrong?”He exhaled slowly, forcing control. “Nothing. Go back to sleep.”She pushed herself up on one elbow, studying him with the
Dawn had not yet touched the sky, and the stronghold was already alive with movement. Soldiers patrolled the walls, their half-shifted forms moving with predatory precision. Every wolf was alert, muscles coiled like springs. Even the youngest warriors understood that the Devourer did not fight like other enemies. This was a predator that could unravel the mind, pierce the spirit, and manipulate fear itself.Seraphina stood at the balcony overlooking the eastern gates, wrapped in a thick cloak, her golden eyes flickering with light that reflected her inner awakening. The bond with Darius hummed through her veins, steady, strong, protective—but tonight, the pulse carried urgency. A tension that whispered of something coming closer. Something that would test the limits of her Luna power—and Darius’s unwavering devotion.“Seraphina,” a deep voice rumbled behind her.Darius stepped up beside her, his hand brushing against hers. She flinched slightly at the contact, not because of fear, but
The stronghold did not sleep after Ashfall.It prepared.Steel rang against stone as weapons were tested and reforged. Wolves moved through the courtyards in tight formations, their movements sharp, disciplined, purposeful. Fear had not vanished—but it had been reshaped into resolve.Seraphina watched from the upper balcony, a thick cloak drawn around her shoulders. Below her, the soldiers of the Nightfang Pack assembled in ordered ranks—far more organized than she had ever seen them.“This is different,” she murmured.Darius stood beside her, one arm resting lightly at her back. “Because this isn’t a border skirmish or a rival pack posturing.”She glanced at him. “This is war.”He didn’t deny it.Below, a deep voice cut through the murmurs like a blade.“Form up!”The soldiers snapped into position instantly.Seraphina leaned forward slightly. “Who is that?”Darius’s gaze sharpened with recognition. “That,” he said, “is Commander Rhyden Vale.”As if sensing their attention, the man b
The first scream reached the stronghold before dawn.It wasn’t carried by sound alone—it tore through the bond.Seraphina woke with a sharp gasp, her body jerking upright as silver-gold light flared briefly beneath her skin. Her wolf surged forward, hackles raised, every instinct screaming danger.Darius was awake instantly.He was on his feet in one smooth motion, power rolling off him as he reached for her. “Where?”She pressed a hand to her chest, breath unsteady. “The eastern lowlands. The Ashfall Pack.”His eyes flashed gold. “That’s two days from here.”“It doesn’t matter,” she whispered. “I can feel them. They’re terrified.”The bond hummed urgently—no longer quiet, no longer settled. It pulled outward, stretching toward something wounded and calling.Darius crossed back to her, gripping her shoulders firmly. “Listen to me. You are not riding into a panic.”“I know,” she said quickly. “I’m not asking to.”She swallowed hard. “But the Devourer is.”The words landed like a blade.
Night did not fall this time.It settled.The stronghold exhaled slowly, stone walls no longer trembling with ancient unrest, corridors no longer echoing with hurried footsteps and anxious voices. Torches burned low, firelight softening the sharp edges of a world that had been too close to breaking.Inside the Alpha’s private chamber, time moved differently.Seraphina stood near the window, wrapped in a pale linen robe, the fabric loose and gentle against her skin. Moonlight spilled across her bare feet, climbing slowly up her legs as if recognizing her—remembering.Behind her, Darius closed the door quietly.The sound was soft.Final.She turned at once.Their eyes met, and the bond stirred—not sharply, not urgently, but with a deep, resonant pull that felt like gravity. Like home.“You’re safe here,” he said softly, as if she might still doubt it.She nodded. “I know. I just… wanted to see the moon before I stopped thinking.”He stepped closer. “And what did it say?”“That it’s tire
Dawn arrived without warmth.The sky over the stronghold remained pale and strained, as if the sun itself was unsure it was welcome. The moon had faded, but it had not healed—and every wolf could feel it. The packs moved quietly, voices low, instincts unsettled.Seraphina stood at the center of the Inner Circle, bare feet against the ancient stone. Runes carved into the floor pulsed faintly, responding to her presence like a slow, measured heartbeat.She breathed in.And the world listened.“Begin,” the Moon Sentinel said.Seraphina closed her eyes.She did not reach for power.She reached for balance.The fragment within her stirred—not violently, not eagerly—but attentively. Light flowed through her veins like memory rather than fire. The runes flared brighter, then steadied, their glow smoothing into something controlled and precise.A ripple spread outward.Not a shockwave.A correction.Cracks in the stone sealed. Fractured wards knit themselves whole. The air pressure eased, lik