All Chapters of Crown of Betrayal: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

“In the beginning, there was nothing — and in that nothing, love.”From the void walked two gods, hand in hand through silence: Acacia, Goddess of Light and Magic, and Finvarra, God of Nature and Renewal. Their love was the first spark — the breath that stirred creation. When their fingers entwined, the darkness trembled, and from that touch was born Nethara, a world of breath and stone and dream.Their laughter became the wind. Their tears became the rivers. Where they kissed, forests bloomed like sighs from sleeping earth. When they danced, stars fell across the sky to watch.For a time, there was only harmony.From the clay of their joy, the Terrans came — mortals of flesh and spirit, the first children of Nethara. They lived by the divine laws, honoring the balance between light and life, creation and decay. The gods watched in peace, content.But creation begets longing.Acacia, ever the dreamer, looked upon the Terrans and saw potential — hearts yearning for magic, for the divin

Elora woke with her heart still racing.For one disorienting moment, she expected to find ash in the air and darkness creeping along the floorboards. The echo of the forest clung to her—the feel of wet earth under her paws, the warmth of him running at her side, and then the cold snap of nothing when he was gone.Instead, her small room greeted her with dim morning light and quiet.Her breath came fast, sharp in the stillness. She pressed a hand to her chest, feeling the hammering of her heart slowly ease.“The dream again,” she murmured, voice rough.She pushed her curls back from her face. Sweat cooled along her temples, clinging to strands of dark red hair. Her wolf stirred beneath her skin, restless, ears pricked toward memories Elora tried to block out.Two years. She’d been having the same dream for two years—ever since her first shift. The same forest. The same faceless, sacred warmth running beside her. The same feeling of... belonging. And now, more and more, the same ending

The rest of the morning passed in a blur of ordinary noise — shoes scuffing across polished stone floors, lockers clanging shut, voices overlapping in a whirlwind of gossip and weekend plans. Runes etched into the lockers shimmered with soft magelight, glowing faintly beneath the pressure of passing auras. Holo-scrolls flickered to life above desks as students woke them with a touch, the glowing script shifting and reorganizing with each pulse of magic.MoonShadow High was like any other school in Ancnix on the surface — loud, restless, overflowing with the energy of young Shifters on the edge of adulthood. But beneath its walls, the air carried a hum that wasn’t entirely mundane. The heartbeat of lineage. The whisper of ancient magic woven into the bones of the city. The ghost of moonlight.Elora usually found comfort in it.Today, the atmosphere sat on her skin like static.She walked through the halls beside Kailee, trying to breathe in the familiar scents — stone warmed by sunligh

Battle Training was the only place Elora truly felt like herself.The field behind MoonShadow High stretched wide beneath a pale afternoon sun, bordered by towering ironwood trees whose leaves shimmered silver-green whenever the wind touched them. The scent of recent rain lingered in the air, sharp and clean, mixing with churned soil and the metallic tang of the weapons rack.Lunar runes circled each sparring ring — glowing symbols carved into the ground to channel Mahina’s blessing. Sleek magitech monitors stood nearby, humming softly as lines of silver script recorded student vitals: pulse, aura resonance, energy alignment. The perfect balance of tradition and innovation, the pride of Ancnix.Here, Elora’s mind quieted. Here, her wolf breathed without restraint.

The morning after Kailee’s birthday party felt strangely suspended — somewhere between celebration and silence.Elora and Kailee stepped off the transit platform together, the shimmering runes beneath their feet fading as the lift doors slid closed behind them. The city breathed in slow, warm strokes around them: merchants setting out morning wares, magelight lanterns dimming into daylight, the scent of spiced pastries drifting along the street.Their favorite café sat tucked between a florist and a rune-smithy — a narrow building with ivy curling around its windows and a bell that chimed softly whenever someone entered.Kailee pushed the door open with her hip. “I swear, Lor, if this place ever closes, I’m storming the Packhouse myself.”Elora snorted. “You wou