The Lost Beta 19 - A Kingdom in Ashes

The valley was quiet like a mournful song after the last howl. Emily stood on the remains of the Moonshadow ritual circle, her heritage shattered emblem fractured below her feet. Her skin had ash on them, smoke and scorched blood wafting up her nostrils. Though her spirit was lost in depth of grief, she firmly held Alexander's hand. 

Alexander surveyed the devastation with squinting eyes. His pack had survived, but barely. The ambush from the rogue faction had been brutal, a distraction to let the Alpha Council’s enforcers infiltrate their defenses. They had come for Emily not to capture, but to kill. "This was never about control," Alexander murmured, his voice hoarse. "It was about erasure." Emily was very upset. They attempted to erase her from history. But she survived. Again. Her bloodline would not be forgotten. Not while she still breathed. "Then let them know," she said in a tremulous but strong whisper. "The last queen stands. And she will not fall."

Talia came over with her damaged arm in her hands. Though she bled on her lip and her eyes were rimmed, she didn't lose her poise. "You mentioned that your purpose is to change werewolf history, Emily," she said softly. "Maybe it's time to burn the old pages."

They stood amid ruin, yet from it came a unity forged by fire. Emily looked around at the wolves who had fought beside her betas, omegas, rogues, and outcasts. A new kingdom was rising, one without titles forged by tyranny.

But somewhere beyond the haze, someone was watching. Waiting. The threat had only shifted, not vanished.

As night fell, Emily sat in the ruins of the Moonshadow archives, brushing ash off ancient scrolls hidden beneath the altar. The fire hadn't reached this deep. Destiny or dumb luck, she didn’t care. She needed answers.

Alexander sat beside her, his fingers trailing over an old blood-sealed scroll that pulsed faintly with magic. "These markings... they're not just royal. They're divine," he muttered. "This isn’t just about bloodlines, Emily. This is a prophecy carved by gods."

She gave him an angry look, her mind spinning. "Then why was it hidden? Why destroy everything else but leave this?"

"Because the truth is more dangerous than lies,"

The renegade seer Zariel sprang out of the darkness, his blind eyes burning dimly. Presumed dead, he had disappeared throughout the siege. But now he carried the air of one who had seen too much. "You weren't meant to survive, Emily. Your soul is the final key to unlock something ancient."

Her pulse quickened. "What do you mean 'unlock'?"

Zariel stepped forward, holding a rune-inscribed blade. "The Queen’s blood doesn't just rule. It awakens the dead."

Emily stormed out of the chamber, the weight of Zariel's words crashing over her. She had thought her bloodline meant leadership. Power. Not necromancy.

Despite Alexander's calls for her name, she continued to walk, her heart pounding. "I can't be that," she yelled out. "I won't be a weapon."

"You're not a weapon," he said, catching up. "You're our only hope to stop the inevitable."

She whirled around. "Do you even hear yourself? You want me to embrace death magic? What if I become what we’re fighting?"

He paused, then gently cupped her face. "Emily, I trust you. Not the magic. Not the prophecy. You."

She sagged into him, the fear slowly ebbing as his warmth wrapped around her. She had always feared losing herself. But maybe, with him, she could rewrite what her power meant.

Still, the idea haunted her. Blood that awakened the dead. What else did her ancestors bury in shadow?

Far to the north, in the Icefang stronghold, the surviving Alpha Council members gathered. The attack on Moonshadow had failed, and Emily lived.

Alpha Cain slammed his fist against the frozen table. "She’s a plague. Her presence unravels the hierarchy."

"You forget," hissed Lady Mave, silver hair flowing like a crown of frost, "the prophecy always spoke of a queen who is to return. We thought it was a metaphor. It's not. It’s war."

They argued about strategy, another attack, diplomacy, even dark magic. But none could agree on how to stop her without inciting rebellion.

Then a shadow entered. A hooded figure dropped a vial of glistening red onto the table. "You don’t need to kill her," they said. "Just corrupt the source."

Eyes turned toward the vial Emily’s blood, stolen during the battle. Infused with a curse older than any of them remembered.

"With this," the figure smiled, "the queen will destroy herself."

Back at the ruined Moonshadow border, Rowan, Emily's half-brother, an unexpected figure arrived. Once exiled for treason, now cloaked in guilt and desperation.

He knelt before her. "I was wrong to leave. Wrong to betray you. But I know what the Council plans next."

"Why should I trust you now?" She asked narrowing her eyes

Rowan held out a torn journal, one their mother had written before her death. "Because I saw this. You were never meant to rule alone. Our blood... it's shared for a reason."

She hesitated, taking the book. Inside were drawing ancient runes, mirrored twins, the two-headed wolf.

Talia gasped, recognizing one from a ruin she had studied. "It’s a symbol of balance. Destruction and creation. If she’s alive... he might be the counterforce."

Emily felt her heart lurch. The prophecy wasn’t just about her. It was about them.

Emily and Alexander stood on the old palace balcony later that night, for a moment they didn't say a word to one another. As it became windy Emily broke the silence.

"Can our lives ever become better?" she whispered softly. "That we could’ve just… been normal?"

He turned to her, pulling her close. "I don’t wish for easier paths. I only ever wish for you."

Their kiss was slow, aching, desperate. A collision of soul and fire, not of lust but of need. He traced every scar on her skin like a promise. With shaking hands, she removed his shirt to remind herself that he was real, not out of passion.

In a world designed to destroy them, they made love under the moonlight not only to feel alive but also to claim one another.

Emily put her head on his chest after that. "What if loving me costs you everything?"

Alexander kissed her hair. "Then it’s a price I’m proud to pay."

The next morning, Emily led a group to the Blood Ruins sacred ground that predated even the first Alpha Kings. The runes from her mother's book pulsed here.

As her blood touched the stone, a tremor shook the ground. The earth split, revealing a hidden temple, ancient symbols glowing in response to her presence.

Talia translated aloud: "She who rises from ash shall awaken the forgotten. The dead shall not serve, but walk beside."

They entered, finding a sarcophagus in the center. Zariel stepped forward, trembling. "This is it. The original queen. Your ancestor."

Emily stepped closer. "Why is she sealed?"

"Because she made the same choice you’re facing," Zariel said. "She chose love... and the world made her pay."

Emily placed her palm on the lid and the tomb burst open.

A blast of cold wind threw them back. From the tomb rose a spectral form, regal and terrible eyes burning like molten gold.

"Who dares wake the blood of Myra the First?" the voice rang out, shaking the walls.

Emily forced herself to her feet. "Your heir. The last of your line. I need your help."

The ghost stepped forward, examining her. "You bear my fire... and his darkness. The prophecy unfolds. But beware love and power are rarely allies."

Emily held her ground. "Then I’ll be the first to prove they can be."

The ghost grinned, a hint of pride in her expression. "Then your final trial begins. In three days, the blood moon rises. If you survive, your kingdom returns. If not... all burns."

Shadows gathered around Emily like claws as the temple walls cracked.

"The queen has awoken," a voice said from the darkness as the ghost disappeared. But so has her enemy."

A pair of crimson eyes opened as a black flame flashed behind the altar.

The curse's legitimate heir was back.