Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 91 - Chapitre 100

Kael stood at the border of Black River territory the next morning, and a small group assembled to see him off. Aldric was beside him, along with five warriors for protection.I'd argued about not going with him. We'd actually fought about it—three times. But someone needed to hold the pack together while he was gone, and we both knew it had to be me.Didn't mean I liked it."First stop is Ironwood Pack," Aldric said, checking the map. "They're the most vocal critics. Convince them, and others will follow.""No pressure," Kael muttered.I approached with a small bundle. "Supplies for the road. And this." I pulled out a communication rune. "Check in every night. I mean it.""Yes, ma'am.""I'm serious, Kael. If I don't hear from you—"He silenced me with a kiss, and for a moment, nothing else mattered. "I'll check in. Promise.""And don't let Aldric get

Before I could respond, Thea's voice carried up from below. “LUNA! We've got a situation!”Kael and I exchanged looks.“There's always a situation,” we said in unison.The War CouncilThe council had expanded to include representatives from the allied packs. The room was packed, tension thick enough to cut with a knife.Thea stood at the map, her face grave in a way that made my stomach drop. “My divination detected massive magical activity three days ago. I've been tracking it since.”She pointed to a location on the map—deep in the Shadowpeak Mountains, far beyond where the old fortress had been.“Here. Seraphine's new stronghold. It's hidden by powerful glamour, but during my last scrying session, I caught a glimpse inside.” Thea's hand shook slightly. “She's rebuilt. And it's worse than before.”“How much worse?” Marcus demanded.“She has maybe four hundred warriors. Plus constructs—dead, raised, and bound to her will.” Thea pulled out a scroll covered in her sketchy drawings.

The battlefield seemed to be still as we faced each other. Around us, fighting continued, but everyone was aware of the central confrontation.Hope vs. Corruption.“Last chance to surrender,” I said. “Walk away. Live.”“Surrender?” Seraphine laughed. “Child, I've been playing this game for centuries while you've barely been alive for three decades. You can't beat me.”“Watch me.”I struck first, channeling Moonbane through my blood into pure destructive force. Silver-white energy lanced toward Seraphine.The priestess blocked it casually, dark magic meeting light in a clash that sent shockwaves across the battlefield.“Stronger than I expected,” Seraphine admitted. “But still not enough.”She retaliated. Dark tendrils shot toward me, seeking to control.I dodged, countered, and drew runes in the air

That night, I performed.I smiled through the communal dinner in the great hall, nodding at stories I didn’t truly hear. I completed the evening patrol check-ins; my questions about perimeter security were automatic and precise. I reviewed supply reports, assigned quarters for the newly healed, and made decisions on everything from watch rotations to the next day’s training focus. I moved through my responsibilities like a ghost wearing Luna’s skin, every gesture, every word, a carefully crafted piece of theater. The pack needed to see strength, not the hollowed-out creature I felt myself becoming.Only when the heavy oak door of my quarters clicked shut behind me did the performance end. The mask shattered. The energy that had been holding me upright simply vanished. My legs gave out, and I slid down the doorframe until I was sitting on the cold stone floor, back against my bed, staring at the opposite wall without seeing it. The silence was a physical pressure, filled with the echoe

It was a sound of pure, undiluted emotion—mourning, love, tribute, and defiance all woven together. It rose from six hundred throats, a visceral song that shook the dew from the grass and echoed off the distant mountains. I tipped my head back and joined them, my howl a release of the sorrow strangling my heart. Kael’s deeper note wound around mine, an anchor in the tidal wave of sound.As the echoes faded and people began to disperse—some in quiet clusters, others alone with their pain—Helena approached. The elder healer placed a gnarled hand on my arm. “You gave them dignity, child. You gave them back to the pack, whole in memory.”“It doesn’t feel like enough,” I confessed quietly.“It never does,” she said, her wise eyes full of shared pain. “But it is what we have to give. And it matters.”When she moved away, the weight of leadership settled back onto my shoulders, now min