The Rogue Luna

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Kade did not sleep.Alpha blood demanded rest after war, after bloodshed, after nights spent pacing ramparts and listening for the sound of enemies that never announced themselves. Yet sleep refused him. It crept near and retreated again, leaving his body heavy and his mind sharp with unease.Darkfang was quieter than it had ever been.Not the quiet of peace. The quiet of aftermath.Fires burned low in the courtyards. The training grounds lay abandoned, their churned earth still dark with old blood and melting frost. Where cubs once ran in reckless circles, there was nothing now but the wind and the scent of loss.Kade stood alone on the eastern wall, hands braced against cold stone, staring into the treeline where Redmaw shadows had

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The mountain had been watching her long before she arrived.Charollet felt it the moment Redmaw dragged her into the narrow valley, the air shifting as though the land itself had drawn a breath. Pines clung to the slopes at sharp angles, their roots exposed and twisted like bones forced through skin. Fog crept low along the ground, curling around her ankles with deliberate slowness, as if testing whether she would recoil.She did not.She had no strength left for fear.Her wrists were bound loosely now, more symbolic than necessary. Volgrin no longer treated her like prey. That alone unsettled her more than chains ever could. He walked ahead of her with measured confidence, his back straight, his shoulders unburdened by doubt. The Redmaw wolves followed in silence, their earlier cruelty replaced by something closer to caution.Respect, perhaps.Or dread.Charollet lifted her head as the shrine came into view.It was not tall. It did not reach for the sky the way Darkfang’s halls had,

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Charollet felt the dawn break over the shrine with a weight in her chest she could not name. When morning light filtered across the glassy surface of the ancient pool she had touched days before, the water had remained still, almost lifeless. But beneath the surface she sensed something stirring. Not magic. Not blood. Something older. Something that had waited for her arrival.She awoke in silence. The tents around the shrine slept under pale skies. Redmaw warriors had formed a ring of watch but none entered the shrine circle itself. Volgrin had insisted on a safe boundary. Not distance born of fear but ritual respect. Today was important. Everything would shift.The morning air was gray and cold, sharper than Charollet expected. She pushed the blanket from her shoulders and stepped toward the circle. The ground underfoot felt alive. A quiet thrum echoed through