Mia’s POV Hatred wasn’t just an emotion for me—it was the very essence of my existence. It had been my constant companion, whispering in my ears since childhood, fueling the fire that burned inside me. Zara had taken everything from me. Our sibling’s love. The respect of our pack. The admiration of our people. Even Ryker, the Alpha who should have been mine. No matter what I did, no matter how carefully I laid my plans, she always found a way to survive. But this time… This time, I wouldn’t just break her. I would erase her. I sat in the dimly lit chamber of my hidden hideout, my fingers tapping against the wooden table, the rhythmic sound echoing through the silence. The scent of burning wax from a nearby candle filled the air, but even its warmth did nothing to cool the rage boiling inside me. I had done everything right. I had framed Zara for treason, turned the pack against her, and even manipulated Ryker into rejecting her. She had been exiled, thrown into the cold,
Mia’s POV Darkness suited me, I thrived in it. While my dear sister basked in the light of her so-called redemption, I worked in the shadows, planting the seeds of her destruction. She didn’t see it coming. None of them did. But soon… they would. It had only been three days since I sent the anonymous letter, but already, I could hear the whispers spreading through the Crescent Moon Pack. Doubt.,Suspicion and Fear among the pack members. The pack had welcomed Zara back, but deep down, their trust in her was fragile. They had turned on her once—why wouldn’t they do it again? I sat at the edge of the forest, hidden from sight, watching as a group of elders gathered outside the packhouse. Their faces were lined with concern, their voices hushed. “She came back different,” one of them muttered. Another nodded. “She survived too much. And she never speaks of where she was or how she became so powerful.” “And that power,” a third elder whispered, “it’s unnatural.” I grinned, Pe
Zara’s POV The words were carved into the wooden training dummies like a message from the dead. I stood there, frozen, as the pack murmured around me. My heartbeat pounded so hard in my chest that I felt like I couldn’t breathe. A son? My son? It wasn’t the first time I had felt this ache—this emptiness inside me, like something was missing, like a piece of me had been stolen. Because it had. The memory was gone. Ripped from my mind like a page torn from a book. But my heart knew. Somewhere, deep in my soul, I had always known. I had a son, and I had lost him. “Zara?” Ryker’s voice cut through my thoughts. His hand was on my arm, grounding me. “Are you okay?” I wasn’t. I could barely hear him over the pounding in my skull, the whispers of something just out of reach, something that I should have remembered but couldn’t. I turned to him, my throat dry. “Who wrote this?” His jaw clenched, his fury barely restrained. “We don’t know yet.” Of course, we did.
Zara's pov The air in the room shifted, thickening like the moment before a storm. I felt it before I saw him—a strange, pulsing energy that made the hairs on my arms rise. The dim candlelight flickered wildly, shadows stretching unnaturally along the walls. Then he appeared. A tall, lean figure cloaked in white was standing in the doorway as if he had materialized from thin air. His presence was overwhelming, radiating an aura of raw power that sent a shiver down my spine. His long white hair cascaded over his shoulders, his silver eyes piercing into mine with an intensity that made it impossible to look away. I clutched the baby tighter to my chest, my heartbeat hammering in my ears. He stirred in my arms, but he didn’t cry. It was as if even he could sense the weight of the presence before us. “Who are you?” I demanded my voice firm despite the fear coiling in my gut. The man took a single step forward, his gaze never wavering. “My name is Arcturus,” he said, his voice deep a
Zara’s POV For too long, I had lived in the shadows of my past—haunted by memories I couldn’t grasp, by an emptiness I couldn’t explain. But now, I remembered. I knew the truth about his whereabouts. I had a son. And no one—not Mia, not the pack, not even Ryker—could change that. My son was safe, hidden away where no one could reach him. And now, it was time to let the pack know the truth. Without fear. Without regret. “Call for a pack meeting,” I said firmly. Ryker’s head snapped up from where he sat at his desk. His eyes flickered with something between surprise and suspicion. “Why?” I crossed my arms. “I have something to say.” He leaned forward, studying me carefully. “Zara, if this is about—” “It’s not up for discussion, Ryker.” My voice was steady and controlled. “Call the meeting.” There was a long pause. Then, slowly, he nodded. “Fine,” he said. “We’ll meet in the clearing at sundown.” I turned to leave, but his voice stopped me. “You’re different,” he murmur
Zara’s POV The pack meeting was over, but the air still crackled with tension. I had done what needed to be done. I had told them the truth about my son, shut down their doubts, and made it clear that no one would question me again. But despite my victory, I couldn’t shake the unease settling in my bones. This wasn’t over, Not by a long shot. I barely made it halfway back to my house before I heard footsteps behind me. I sighed. “What do you want, Ryker?” He fell into step beside me, hands in his pockets, green eyes sharp. “You didn’t hesitate, did you?” I glanced at him. “Why would I?” He scoffed. “Most people would have softened the blow. Given the time to process.” “I’m not most people, Ryker,” I said simply. His lips quirked up slightly. “No, you’re not.” We walked in silence for a few moments before he spoke again. “I meant what I said back there, Zara. I won’t push you to tell me where he is.” I studied him carefully, searching for any deception. But all I saw was…
Zara’s POV The banner with Mia’s threat still hung at the entrance of the Crescent Moon Pack’s territory, a constant reminder that she wasn’t done. She wanted my son. She was willing to burn everything down to get him. But she would fail. Because I wouldn’t let her win. And she had underestimated one thing—my son wasn’t just any child. He was being protected by forces she could never understand. The moon was high in the sky when I finally allowed myself to rest. The pack had doubled their patrols, warriors were stationed at every corner, and Ryker had personally ensured the borders were sealed. Still, sleep didn’t come easily. I turned in bed, staring at the ceiling, listening to Ryker’s steady breathing beside me. The weight of the pack, the war that was coming, the fear of what Mia might do next—it all pressed down on me. I exhaled, closing my eyes, trying to force myself into sleep. Then, suddenly— A shift in the air. The temperature in the room dropped. And I felt
Zara’s POV The moment Arcturus vanished, a strange silence filled the room. The weight of his words lingered in the air, pressing down on me like an unseen force. "When the time comes… you must be the one to end her." Mia. My own sister. My greatest enemy. I exhaled sharply, trying to steady my breathing. Ryker was watching me, his golden eyes unreadable. “Are you okay?” he finally asked. I wanted to say yes. I wanted to pretend that the knowledge of my fate didn’t shake me to my core. But I was shaken. Because deep down, I knew the truth. Mia wasn’t just going to fall. She was going to take everything with her if I didn’t stop her first. The eerie silence didn’t last long. Because a second later, a deafening boom shattered the air. The walls trembled. The glass windows cracked. Ryker and I exchanged a sharp look before sprinting toward the door. Outside, chaos had erupted. The night sky was painted red with flames. Smoke billowed from the western side of the pac
Thorold’s POV We were three days from moving when the first arrow fell. It landed at the edge of Black Hollow’s northern cliffs—no message, no warning. Just flame. A Council mark, scorched into the shaft. They weren’t coming. They were **already here**. I stood with Kael at the watch post when the second wave hit. Not arrows this time—but mist. Thick, black, rolling like a storm tide, choking the trees below the ridge. Lira appeared moments later, breathless. “Scouts aren’t returning from the frostwood. They're being pulled—one by one—into the fog.” “Magic?” I asked. She nodded. “Blood-bound.” “Council-grade?” “Yes.” Kael’s claws extended instinctively. “They’re cloaking their army.” “No,” I said, my voice low. “They’re cloaking something worse.” We had to move. The command hall shook with urgency. Maps unrolled. Wards lit. Spells drawn into the air like threads across time. Elyra stood at the center, calm, but I could see the tension in her shoulders. The Council had n
Thorold’s POV I’d been told once that war didn’t begin with a blade. It began with whispers. Black Hollow was quiet now, but not calm. Since Maelen’s exile, the atmosphere had shifted. Wolves no longer trained with focus. Conversations felt heavier, looks lasted longer. It wasn’t fear anymore—it was expectation. Everyone waiting to see what I would do next. I wasn’t sure what they saw when they looked at me. A leader? A threat? A weapon they hoped would turn toward their enemies and not their homes? I stood at the center of the Basin, alone. The runes in the stone pulsed beneath my feet, sensing the change. The Veil, too, knew something was coming. And it was coming fast. Behind me, Lira approached in silence. “They’re gathering near the southern ridge,” she said. “Elyra says the Hollow has never seen so many wolves ready for battle.” “They’re not ready for what’s coming,” I murmured. She stepped beside me, her voice low. “Neither are we.” We both looked out toward the wood
(Zara’s POV) The wind had changed. I felt it the moment I stepped outside the Stormfang manor — the bite in the air, the tension in the leaves, like the trees themselves were holding their breath. Something had shifted. No messages. No messengers. Just instinct. Just a mother’s bond. I looked toward the distant north, toward the invisible cradle of Black Hollow, and felt it in my chest — a ripple. Not pain. Not fear. Thorold had done something. Something that would either mark the beginning of peace… or war. The Warning from the Seer Ryker found me an hour later in the old temple ruins just beyond the training fields. I stood near the worn stone altar, palms pressed against the moss-covered runes. “He’s still alive,” he said quietly. I nodded. “But something’s coming.” Seris arrived soon after. Her silver cloak billowed in the wind that didn’t touch the trees. “I saw fire last night,” she said without preamble. “Not destruction. Not yet. But the kind that signals mov
Thorold’s POV The next morning, the Circle summoned everyone to the Basin. Not just Guardians or Seers, but every wolf, every spellweaver, every outlier who had made their home beneath Black Hollow’s ancient roots. Elyra stood tall at the heart of the circle of stone, her gold eyes sharp but unreadable. I stood beside her, the orb in my pocket pulsing like it was alive. Lira was near the edge, hidden behind two other students. I’d asked her not to stand beside me. Not yet, Not until this ended. Not until I knew who would survive it. Maelen was already there when I arrived — arms crossed, expression carved from stone, a picture of control. He offered me no greeting, no accusation. But his eyes? They knew I knew. Elyra raised her voice, letting it ring across the Basin like a bell. “There has been a fracture in the Hollow,” she said. “A seed of corruption planted where we should have only had sanctuary. This gathering is not a trial of law…” She turned toward me.
Zara’s POV The bell rang just after dawn. It wasn’t a warning bell or a ceremonial chime — it was the ancient bell built into Stormfang’s oldest watchtower. A relic of the first Luna, meant only to sound when the veil between worlds trembled. It hadn’t rung in over two hundred years. Until now. I froze where I stood, halfway down the corridor toward the infirmary. The sound pierced through my bones like a forgotten memory coming back to life. Ryker was already moving when I turned the corner. “You felt it,” he said. Not a question. I nodded, one hand on my chest. “It was him.” He didn’t ask how I knew. We both did. The Pulse of Power Throughout the packlands, wolves dropped what they were doing. Warriors emerged from training grounds, scholars abandoned scrolls, and pups looked skyward like they sensed something bigger than themselves had awakened. A pulse of magic had torn through the air — not violent, not chaotic. But final. As if a seal had broken.
Thorold’s POV The blade at my throat was cold. Not just in temperature — it carried the chill of betrayal. It was the kind of cold that sinks into your skin, slides down into your bones, and makes you wonder if everything you’ve known was a lie. The face behind the blade was shadowed at first. But the voice? I knew it. “Lira,” I said quietly. “Why?” She didn’t flinch. Didn’t try to lie. Her grip on the dagger remained steady, her expression unreadable. “You were never supposed to get this far,” she said. “You were meant to burn out — like the others.” I blinked. “Others?” She hesitated. For just a breath. And in that pause, I saw her for what she really was. Not just a spy, but just a traitor. “The Council sent you,” I said. “To what? Watch me? Report on me? Kill me if I crossed a line?” “Yes,” she said. “But that’s not all.” The blade didn’t move. “Then what?” She stepped back slightly. Not lowering the knife — but giving us both room to breathe. “I was born in a
Thorold’s POV The Hollow was quieter now, too quiet. It wasn’t just my paranoia. The wolves around me—once watchful but warm—had grown colder. Eyes that used to greet mine now slid past. Conversations stopped when I entered a room. And the wind carried whispers I wasn’t meant to hear. “He wasn’t meant to see that vision.” “He touched the Threadstream too soon.” “If he fractures, the Hollow falls with him.” Elyra had assured me everything was fine. That I was progressing faster than expected. But progress shouldn’t feel like isolation. I wasn’t just training anymore. I was being observed. I was summoned to the outer ring for a new lesson—one I hadn’t heard of before. Elyra didn’t meet me. Instead, I was met by a Guardian named Maelen. Tall. Silent. Eyes like winter steel. He gave no instructions. Just gestured for me to follow. We moved through unfamiliar paths, deeper into the Hollow’s roots. Into the dark. “Where are we going?” I asked. He didn’t respond. When we st
Thorold’s POV Black Hollow did not train warriors. It unraveled them thread by thread—until only the raw core remained. Then, and only then, did it start to rebuild. The first time I stepped into the Circle’s sanctum, I felt like the air itself rejected me. Every breath was too sharp, like drawing in starlight and thorns. The stone beneath my feet hummed with something… aware. I could feel it moving beneath the surface, ancient and watching. Elyra, the woman with gold eyes and a voice like midnight wind, stood waiting at the center of the sanctum. Around her, runes pulsed in a rhythm I couldn’t hear but could feel echoing in my bones. “You’ll need to let go of everything you think you know,” she said, her gaze piercing but not unkind. “Your name. Your blood. Even your wolf.” I swallowed hard. “Why?” “Because the Veil doesn’t care about legacies. It only listens to balance. You can’t touch it while clinging to who you were.” I nodded. I wasn’t sure I understood her. But I kne
Zara’s POV The path out of Black Hollow was steep. Too steep. Every step away from him felt like betrayal. Ryker didn’t speak for the first hour. Neither did I. What could we say? What words could soften the truth that once again, we were walking away from our son? Except this time, it was his choice. This time, we weren’t the ones who had to make the sacrifice. He was. And we had to live with it. I rode just behind Ryker, watching the way his shoulders stayed stiff beneath his cloak, the way his hands clenched the reins too tightly. He was unraveling quietly — the way only he could. Not in rage or tears. But in the way he wouldn’t look back. Not once. “He’s stronger now,” I said finally, needing to fill the silence with something that didn’t ache. “You saw it. He’s not lost.” Ryker didn’t answer right away. Then: “He was always strong. We just never gave him the space to find it.” I swallowed hard. “You blame us?” “I blame the world,” he said. “And maybe myself. A lit