MasukThe Trial the Moon DemandsThe journey to the Nexus began before dawn.No horns sounded. No warriors were gathered in ceremony. The Moon did not seek a spectacle; it called for submission.Aria felt it deep inside her as she rode next to Rowan through the frostbitten forest, the air unnaturally still. Even the birds were quiet, as if the land itself was holding its breath.The path ahead was ancient.Older than packs. Older than laws. Older than names.“This road shouldn’t exist,” Rowan murmured, scanning the narrow trail that appeared only under the Moon’s pale glow. “No maps show it.”“It only appears when it’s needed,” Aria replied softly.Or when it wants something.She kept that thought to herself.The further they went north, the stronger the pull became. It wasn’t painful—not yet—but it was persistent. A steady pressure built behind her eyes and in her chest, pushing her forward with a patience that felt almost cruel.By the time the mountains loomed before them, Aria’s hands w
When the Moon Begins to TakeThe night did not return to normal after the Prophet vanished. It couldn’t. The moon hung low in the sky, swollen and bright, casting silver light so heavy that it felt like pressure on the lungs. Wolves across the territory lifted their heads in unease, howls breaking out in fractured echoes that carried only fear. Aria stood on the battlement long after the courtyard had cleared. She hadn’t spoken. Not when the guards dispersed. Not when Rowan gave orders. Not even when he returned to her side, his presence solid and steady like an anchor. Inside her, something was shifting. Not awakening, but claiming. “You should rest,” Rowan said quietly. She didn’t turn. “I don’t think I can.” He studied her profile, the faint silver glow at her temples that hadn’t been there before tonight. It pulsed gently, like a second heartbeat. “You’re burning yourself out,” he said. “Whatever the Moon is doing—” “It’s not doing,” Aria interrupted softly. “It’s taki
The Prophet’s TruthThe gates did not break.They opened.Not through force, but through surrender.The iron locks twisted on their own, the metal creaking like something alive, and the massive doors parted just enough for one figure to step through.He was alone.No army, no guards, no banners.Just a man cloaked in black, his hood pulled low. His presence bent the air around him like heat rising from stone.Every wolf on the wall froze.Every instinct screamed to run.Rowan felt it hit him like a physical blow—power so heavy it pressed against his Alpha bond, testing it, probing it. His wolf growled, claws scraping at his skin, furious at being held back.“Hold the line,” Rowan commanded, his voice strong despite the pressure crushing his chest.The man stopped ten paces from the gate.Slowly, deliberately, he lifted his head.His eyes were not silver. Not gold.They were as dark as the void—depthless, ancient, knowing.“So,” the Prophet said calmly, “this is where the Moon has chos
When the Prophet MovesThe storm broke before dawn. Not with thunder, but with a silence so deep it felt wrong. Aria stood on the balcony, looking over the eastern valley. Her cloak was pulled tight against the wind. The moon hung low, half-hidden by slow-moving clouds that glowed with a faint silver light. The land below was too still. No wolves howled. No birds stirred. Even nature seemed to be holding its breath. Rowan watched her from a few steps back, his instincts screaming. “Something’s coming.” Aria nodded without turning. “He’s already moving.” Inside her chest, the Moon’s Light pulsed—uneasy and alert. Since leaving the council chamber, it hadn’t settled. The power sensed threats before they appeared, and right now, it was restless. Kael emerged from the stairwell, his face tight. “Scouts returned from the western ridge.” Rowan turned sharply. “And?” “They didn’t see an army,” Kael said. “They felt one.” That made Aria finally turn. “Explain.” Kael swallowed. “Th
The First Side ChosenThe High Council chamber had not changed in centuries. Stone pillars carved with ancient laws rose toward a domed ceiling, where moonlight filtered through enchanted glass. Every symbol and every rune was meant to remind those who entered that power here was absolute.Yet as Aria stepped inside, she felt something shift.Not fear.Resistance.The elders were already seated, twelve of them cloaked in silver and ash, their expressions carefully neutral. But beneath the stillness, tension coiled like a live wire.Rowan stood at Aria’s side, unmoving, his presence a silent warning. Kael and two elite guards remained at the doors.“You summoned us,” Elder Morian said smoothly. “Not the other way around.”Aria met his gaze without flinching. “Because hiding behind silence is no longer an option.”A murmur rippled through the chamber.Elder Virel leaned forward. “You accuse the council lightly, Luna.”Aria took one step closer to the center of the chamber. The air resp
When the Moon Answers BackThe dream came without warning.Aria stood in a field of ash, the sky above her broken like shattered glass. Moonlight poured through the cracks, cold and unforgiving, lighting up rows of scorched earth where nothing survived.No trees. No life. Only silence.She knew without being told that this place did not exist yet.It was a possibility.A future.“Do you see it now?”The voice slid through the air, smooth and deliberate.Aria turned slowly.The Prophet stood a few paces away, his form half-shadow, half-flesh. His eyes glowed with an unsettling silver that mirrored her own power—but where hers felt alive, his felt empty. Consumed.“You did this,” she said, her voice steady despite the rage boiling beneath her skin.He smiled. “No. You will.”The ground beneath her feet cracked, silver light seeping upward like exposed veins. Aria felt the Moon’s Light surge inside her—violent, restless.“I would never destroy the world,” she said.The Prophet tilted







