Chapter Forty-two

The Gathering of Storm

The morning air was heavy, too still for dawn. Even the birds had gone silent.

I stood on the ridge overlooking the valley, the forest below shrouded in a faint red haze. The trees themselves seemed to breathe uneasily. Whatever Mona had done, it wasn’t just magic — it was infection.

Lucien joined me wordlessly. He didn’t need to speak; I could feel the pressure of his power beside me, dark and restrained, like a storm waiting for permission to break.

“You feel it too,” I said quietly.

His eyes, black as obsidian, scanned the valley. “It’s spreading faster than I thought. She’s torn through the border of my realm — her power bleeds into both worlds now.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means,” he said, voice low, “the balance between shadow and light is failing. Soon the moon’s pull will falter, and every wolf tied to its rhythm will lose control.”

My pulse quickened. “You mean—”

“Your pack. My kind. The wild ones. All of them.” His gaze flicked to me, grim. “Mona’s power feeds on chaos. She’s not only after vengeance. She’s undoing the natural order.”

I clenched my fists, the mark on my palm burning. “Then we stop her.”

Lucien’s jaw tightened. “You speak as if it’s simple.”

I turned to face him fully. “You’ve trained me for this, haven’t you? To face the impossible.”

He met my gaze, silent for a long moment. The wind picked up, brushing strands of hair across his face. “You’re not ready,” he said finally. “Not for her. Not for what she’s become.”

“I wasn’t ready for Derrick either,” I said. “And yet I lived.”

His eyes narrowed slightly — frustration or respect, I couldn’t tell. “You lived because I intervened.”

I took a step closer. “And if I’m to survive what’s coming, I’ll need you to do more than save me. I’ll need you to fight beside me.”

Lucien’s expression shifted — a faint crack in the iron calm. “You command me now?”

“I ask,” I said softly. “Because you know as well as I do that if Mona’s power spreads, even your shadows will turn against you.”

For a moment, the tension between us felt like a blade drawn taut. Then Lucien exhaled, the faintest smirk curving his lips. “You’re insufferable.”

“And right,” I added.

His eyes glinted. “Perhaps.”

The air shimmered suddenly — a ripple of power that crawled over my skin. The earth trembled beneath us. Down in the valley, the trees shifted unnaturally, their trunks twisting like they were alive.

Lucien’s expression hardened. “She’s testing her reach.”

Before I could speak, the ground beneath us split open — a fissure glowing faintly crimson. From its depths poured thick mist, smelling of ash and blood. Figures began to crawl out — not wolves, not humans. Things in between. Their eyes glowed red, their bodies wreathed in smoke.

“Spawns,” Lucien muttered. “She’s raising them faster than I expected.”

My shadows flared automatically, silver and black light bursting around me. I summoned my blades, heart racing. “Then let’s test her reach, too.”

Lucien gave a short, sharp nod — and the storm broke.

The first spawn lunged, its body flickering in and out of shape. I met it mid-air, slashing clean through its throat. It dissolved into smoke, screaming as it vanished. But more followed — dozens, crawling from the fissure like ants from a burning nest.

Lucien’s shadows surged beside me, striking with precision, each motion silent and deadly. Together, we moved as one — my light weaving through his dark, our powers spiraling into a dance of death.

For every creature that fell, two more rose. The air crackled with energy, thick with the scent of scorched earth.

“Fall back!” Lucien shouted. “They’re not meant to be defeated — they’re meant to distract!”

“From what?”

His eyes widened. “From her.”

The sky turned blood-red.

A wave of heat rolled through the valley, flattening the trees. The spawns froze mid-motion, their heads snapping upward toward the moon. And then — all at once — they disintegrated into ash.

I stumbled backward, the shadows around me flickering wildly. “What’s happening?”

Lucien looked up. His voice was barely a whisper. “She’s calling them home.”

Above us, the blood-red haze began to coil into a spiral, forming a vortex that pulsed with crimson light. And from its center came a whisper — soft, melodic, and filled with venom.

Kimberly…

My heart stopped.

It was her voice. Mona’s.

Lucien stepped closer, his hand finding my shoulder. “Don’t answer,” he warned. “She’s trying to link with you through the bloodline.”

But the whisper grew louder, wrapping around me like silk. You can’t hide forever, cousin. The moon remembers you… and so do I.

The world tilted. For a heartbeat, I saw her — not in the forest, but in my mind. Mona stood on a balcony bathed in red light, her gown flowing like liquid fire, her crimson eyes burning into mine.

I drank the moon, Kimberly, she whispered. Now it drinks for me.

The image shattered, and I gasped, falling to my knees. The ground was still, but the echo of her power lingered, vibrating through every bone in my body.

Lucien knelt beside me, gripping my arm. “She’s bound to you now. The link is sealed.”

I looked up at him, my breath shaking. “Then she’ll know everything — where I am, what I feel—”

“Not if we break it first.” His eyes flashed, sharp with resolve. “We hunt her. Now.”

I nodded, my pulse steadying. The fear inside me hardened into determination. “Then let’s end this before the moon rises again.”

Lucien extended his hand. Shadows swirled around us, rising like a storm.

“Then follow me, little wolf,” he said. “Into the dark.”

And as his power engulfed us, I felt the first true pulse of war rumble through the earth — the promise that the next blood moon would not be a night of ritual.

It would be a reckoning.

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