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The Rogue Luna 23
The Redmaw stronghold was unlike Darkfang’s great stone halls. It rose from the mountain’s belly like a wound, a fortress carved into black rock and braced with iron spines. No moonlight reached its deepest corridors. No warmth lingered in its breathless chambers. It was a prison made not only of stone, but of silence.Charollet had not seen the sky in days.The chamber she was held in was low and narrow, a crescent of carved obsidian and dirt packed hard enough to scrape skin. There were no windows, only a thin vent of smoke through which the torchlight above flickered and sent ribbons of soot to collect on the uneven floor. Her arms ached where iron shackles pressed bone against stone. She had long since stopped struggling.But she had not stopped thinking.She had not cried, either.Volgrin had ensured that. Tears, he told her, were a luxury for the unbroken.Each day, he came down to see her. Never at the same hour. Sometimes with food. Other times, with threats.Always with inten
The Rogue Luna 22
Before Kade was a warrior, before he was a Beta, and long before he ever dreamed of claiming the Darkfang throne, he was a child hiding behind stone pillars, watching wolves tear each other apart.He had not been born into power. His mother was a healer, soft-spoken and too kind for the cold stone halls that ruled the Darkfang Pack. His father had been a warrior, brutal and quick-tempered, killed in a border skirmish when Kade was five years old. After his death, Kade and his mother had been moved to the servants' quarters. Their rooms were narrow, their windows too small, and their words had to be chosen carefully. There were ears everywhere in Darkfang. Even the stone listened.In those early years, Kade learned not to speak unless spoken to. He learned how to walk without making sound, how to count the seconds between patrols, and how to disappear into shadows. He had to. Because the pack he belonged to was not merciful.Darkfang’s glory had always been forged in blood. That was wh
The Rogue Luna 21
The world had become a cage of silence and snow.Charollet had lost count of the days since she had been taken. The cell she was kept in was dug into the side of a mountain, more stone tomb than prison. There were no windows, only the flickering light of a single torch that burned in intervals. When it went out, the cold came in waves, as if the walls themselves had breath.Her wrists were bruised. They had bound her with enchanted rope, something she didn’t recognize—made of leather threaded with iron and old bone. The knot bit into her skin, leaving a thin red ring around her hands that no amount of movement could loosen. Each time she struggled, it tightened.They did not beat her. Not at first. But cruelty wore many masks. The guards that brought her food would leave the trays just out of reach. Sometimes they would toss water at her face instead of letting her drink. Sometimes they whispered about her in the tongue of the mountains, that old Redmaw dialect she didn’t fully unders
The Rogue Luna 20
Morning rose over Darkfang under brittle blue skies. The air felt clean, even hopeful, as if the tension between packs had eased after Silverpine pledged their alliance. Snow melted from the ridges, trickling down rocky slopes with a cheerful whisper. But within the fortress, unease lingered.Charollet wrapped herself in a grey cloak and moved among the ranks of the newcomers. She spoke softly to the councilors, offered guidance to warriors from Silverpine, and listened to their concerns as they adjusted to joint patrols and shared winter stores. All day she felt the Rune’s weight hidden beneath her shirt, a humming reminder of the responsibility she carried.In the morning strategy meeting, Kade stood at the war table. Maps showed Darkfang, Silverpine, and Redmaw territories, with Redmaw pushed back but still a lingering threat. Kade outlined patrol schedu
The Rogue Luna 19
The morning mist lay thick over Darkfang when Charollet finally emerged from the old wing. She carried with her an air of nervous purpose, a parchment rolled carefully in her hand. The corridor outside was deserted, its cold torches flickering as if consumed by her presence. Her bare feet pressed softly on worn flagstones that had once echoed with Boris's power. Now they trembled under Charollet’s tentative presence, uneasy with the scars they’d witnessed.She paused outside the war room. From inside came the ambient hum of plotting, maps spread wide, voices spiking low and urgent. Kade’s voice carried through the open doorway. Charollet’s heart stumbled as she recognized the tense cadence; she felt every word he spoke as a blow even before stepping inside.From the moment she entered, all eyes fell on her. Warriors straightened, fingers brushed blades, and a hush fell—tense, expectant, unforgiving. She saw Kade framed behind the main table, stern, focused. He glanced up, the flicker
The Rogue Luna 18
Charollet woke before dawn, the torch outside her cell guttering low against the shadowed walls. She lay on the cold stone slab, the rough blanket doing little to keep the chill at bay. Every muscle ached from the chains, the hunger, the wounds still scarred beneath hours of bandages.But beneath all that, something else pulsed.Curiosity.Fear.A quiet hunger for answers.The chain at her ankle rattled softly as she shifted. In the hollow hush, a cautious movement sounded behind the bars. She tensed.A slender figure, veiled in a thin grey cloak, stepped into the cell. Torchlight flickered across her features: pale skin, deep-set eyes, a nurse’s precision in her step.“Elira,” Charollet breathed.The healer gave a faint nod.Kade’s orders were clear: no more visits from anyone but captains and council members. But Elira was a healer. And when she looked at Charollet, she didn’t wear the distant look of authority, only concern.“Elira brought something,” she whispered, producing a fol
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