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The Traitor’s Tongue
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2025-08-06 17:27:05
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The Forgotten Heiress: Rise of The Lycan Queen Seren and the Wounded Star
The forest had gone quiet.Too quiet.Not even the wind moved through the high pine. No wolves stirred. No insects sang. Even the river that usually murmured near the edge of Mourne’s camp was frozen still, like the world itself held its breath.Seren rose from her bedroll before dawn, sleep broken by a sharp pain in her chest, just beneath the crescent scar. The ache wasn’t physical. It was directional—a pull.Mourne sensed it, too.“You feel it,” he said without turning.She nodded. “It’s calling.”“You shouldn’t follow it.”“I can’t not.”He didn’t argue.He handed her a blade wrapped in storm-silk and said, “Then don’t go alone.”The call led her east of the ashwood camp, through a stretch of gnarled trees blackened by time. They had no leaves. Their branches reached like skeletal fingers toward the sky. And the sky.The sky had split.She saw it first through the trees, a gash of light tearing downward, like a comet but slower, heavier. It crackled as it fell, trailing silver spa
The Forgotten Heiress: Rise of The Lycan Queen The Traitor’s Tongue
The dungeons beneath Moonfang had not echoed with screams in years.Kael had made sure of that.Elara had believed in mercy, even for enemies. She said fear made wolves into monsters. And yet tonight, the sound of bone hitting stone returned to the fortress, low and rhythmic, a heartbeat of interrogation that pulsed from the walls.A Dustborn spy had been captured during the Crimson Summit ambush.Unmasked.Young.Unbroken.And completely silent.Until now.Kael stood in the lowest chamber, staring through silverfire bars at the prisoner who sat cross-legged on the cold floor. She was no more than twenty. Runes inked across her scalp glowed faintly when she blinked. Her hands had been bound with silver thread, but she didn’t struggle.She watched him with eyes the color of dying coals."You were told not to speak," Kael said.She tilted her head."I was told not to lie."The chains rattled as Kael stepped forward."You were one of the inner guard. You had access to the sigilstones. Th
The Forgotten Heiress: Rise of The Lycan Queen The Heir’s Fire
Rituals are not meant to survive chaos.And Seren was chaos.The ruins of the Hollow Spire lay dormant for centuries before Kael reopened them. Once, this place had been a moon sanctuary, where Elara herself had walked the spiral stones and lit the sky with silverfire to prove her bloodline before the wolves.Now, its shattered columns and fire-warped altars bore witness to a rite that should have been impossible.Because Seren was no queen.And the fire in her blood wasn’t Moonborn.It was something else.Something raw.Unclaimed.And tonight, it would be tested.The circle was drawn in ash and runebone, under the open sky. Elder wolves watched from the cliffs. Kael and Saphira stood to the side, their expressions unreadable. Mourne sat on the far ledge, cloaked in shadow.Seren stood barefoot at the center.The silver moon glared down at her, half full, but sharp.The stones beneath her feet pulsed with ancient breath.She closed her eyes.Spoke the incantation Mourne had warned her
The Forgotten Heiress: Rise of The Lycan Queen The Blood Mirror
It was closed by memory and by blood.Sirelia alone stood by its doorstep, a hand pressed against the dark obsidian door, the other clenched in a fist. Torchlight flickered and whipped the dust, borne on breath and ghosts. The runes incised in the frame pulsed, not in invitation, but in threat.She was only in this room for a single time before.Once, when she was a girl, standing beside Elara.Before the war.Before scars.Before they became names instead of sisters.She uttered the passphrase, Elara's private word, the one they alone shared."Moonbound by none."The door opened.And the door to the past opened.The chamber itself was circular, its floor being paved with bone and moonstone.There were rows and rows of splintered books.Dusty relics from centuries before even Elara's time adorned the walls behind cracked glass: melted fragments of crowns, scrolls with dead languages inscribed on them, a petrified lycan's talon in mid-shift.But the central object is the one that drew
The Forgotten Heiress: Rise of The Lycan Queen The Bone Oath
There were older gods than fire.Kael knew this.And so did the wolves.They didn’t kneel to queens. They did not worship flame or dust or crowns forged from ash. But they remembered. And memory in wolfblood was older than loyalty.That’s why the Bone Oath had only been invoked twice before.Once, for Elara.Once, for the end of the Moon War.And now, Kael would invoke it for her.Not Elara.Not Sirelia.But Seren.The one who burned without permission.The one whose fire didn’t ask what the old ways wanted.The one who just might end them.The great circle of the Howlstone Basin had not been walked in a generation.Now it was filled with twenty-five elders, massive Lycans in full-blooded forms, fur streaked with age, scars glowing under the full moon. They stood in silence, forming a ring of judgment around Kael as he approached the central altar: a slab of bone carved from the first Alpha’s spine.A sacred place.A brutal one.No words were wasted here.Oaths were made in blood, and
The Forgotten Heiress: Rise of The Lycan Queen The Two Flames
There were bones beneath the capital.Not of men.Of queens.Long-buried monarchs who once ruled not with steel, but with flame and fate. Their remains whispered of power older than thrones, older than Crescent Vale itself—laid to rest beneath a city that had forgotten the weight of its blood.Seren moved like a shadow through the dust-laced catacombs beneath the ruined city. Crescent Vale, once the holy seat of the Moonstone Court, now lay in fractured strata—its palaces smothered by ash, its grand temples sunk into silence. The marble cracked. The moonglass dulled. And still, the secrets lingered, etched into every cold breath of the stone.Mourne walked ahead, his torch of silverfire a living tongue of unnatural light. The flame hissed, not in protest, but in warning—its color too pure for this place, too clean for the stories it now illuminated.He hadn’t spoken since the Crimson Summit.Neither had she.Something had changed that day on the blood-steeped cliffs. Not in the world,
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