MasukThe Price of Defiance The council chamber felt small. Aria stood at the center, moonlight spilling through the high arching windows and casting her in silver and shadow. The elders sat in a half-circle before her—some rigid with fear, some tight with anger, some unable to meet her gaze. Blood still stained the hem of her cloak. Not hers. Not entirely. “What happened in the sanctuary was an act of war,” Elder Rhys said, breaking the silence. His voice echoed, sharp and brittle. “And it happened under your watch.” A murmur rippled through the chamber. Aria lifted her chin. “It happened because someone inside this pack betrayed us.” Rhys sneered. “Because you provoked the Prophet.” Rowan moved instantly. “Choose your next words carefully.” Rhys glanced at him but didn’t back down. “Since her awakening, attacks have escalated. Borders breached. Elders corrupted. Sacred ground defiled. The pattern is clear.” Aria’s eyes hardened. “Say it.” Rhys exhaled sharply. “
Blood in the SanctuaryThe warning howl had barely faded when the earth itself seemed to pull back. Aria felt it first. Not through sound. Not through sight. But through the Moon’s pulse inside her chest, tightening, twisting, screaming danger. “Something’s wrong,” she said sharply. Rowan was already moving. “Lock the inner gates. Call every guard.” The pack didn’t need to be told twice. Silvercrest shifted from tension to readiness in seconds. Warriors spread out. Scouts disappeared into the trees. The air thickened with adrenaline and the metallic tang of fear. Then— A scream cut through the compound. Not a battle cry. Not a warning howl. A human scream. Aria’s heart dropped. “That came from the sanctuary,” she said. They ran. The sanctuary lay at the heart of Silvercrest—a sacred place where no blood had ever been spilt. A place protected by ancient wards, carved stones, and Moon-blessed silence. Or so they had believed. The doors stood open.
The First Howl of DefianceThe howl came just before dawn.It sliced through Silvercrest like a blade through skin, sharp, furious, unmistakably Alpha.Aria was already awake when she heard it.She sat upright in bed, heart pounding, the echo vibrating through her bones. Her wolf surged immediately, sensing not fear but challenge.Rowan was on his feet in an instant, eyes dark, jaw tight.“That wasn’t ours,” he said.“No,” Aria replied quietly. “That was rebellion.”They got dressed and moved before the second howl echoed, closer this time. Angrier.Outside, the pack was already stirring. Warriors flooded into the clearing, weapons half-drawn, faces tense. The moon still hung low and pale above them, watching in silence.Aria stepped forward beside Rowan, cloak snapping in the wind.“Who?” Rowan demanded of a scout racing toward them.The scout dropped to one knee, breathless. “Ironclaw territory. Alpha Brekan crossed the boundary stones with fifty wolves. He’s calling for you—by name
When the Moon Turns Its Face AwayThe moon did not follow them home.Aria noticed it first when the forest opened up and the familiar borders of Silvercrest came into view. The sky above was clear, scattered with stars, but the moon hung dim and distant, as if hidden behind something unseen.Watching. Judging.Rowan felt it too. His grip on Aria’s hand tightened as they crossed the boundary stones.“The bond feels… quieter,” he murmured. “Not weaker. Just different.”Aria nodded slowly. Her wolf stirred within her, alert but uneasy. The warmth she usually felt from the Moon—guiding and affirming—was muted now. Not absent. Never absent.But no longer unquestioned.They hadn’t been gone long.Yet the pack felt changed.As they entered the clearing, warriors paused mid-task. Conversations fell silent. Heads lifted. Eyes tracked Aria with an intensity that made her spine stiffen.Not fear.Not reverence.Confusion.A young omega whispered, “The Moon’s light—it changed.”Another replied s
The 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







