Lillian crashed back into reality with a gasp, her body slamming onto the snow-covered ground. The cold burned against her skin, shocking her senses as she sucked in a ragged breath. The camp was in chaos. Nightwalkers lunged through the storm, their hollow eyes glowing with dark hunger. Warriors fought in tight formations, blades flashing in the moonlight, their breath visible in the freezing air. Aedric was the first to reach her. His golden eyes widened as he dropped to one knee, gripping her shoulders. “Lillian! What happened?” She tried to steady herself, her pulse erratic. Her mind was still tangled in the echoes of Kael’s words, his presence lingering like a ghost. “He—he pulled me into a void,” she managed, her voice hoarse. “I saw him. Spoke to him.” Aedric’s expression darkened. “And?” Lillian hesitated, Kael’s final words twisting inside her. "You think I destroyed our people. But what if I saved them from something far worse?" The weight of doubt settled
The spectral warriors stood in eerie silence, their hollow eyes fixed on Lillian. The air was thick with their presence, pressing against her skin like a memory half-remembered. Aedric shifted beside her, his sword glowing faintly in the silver light spilling through the cracks in the sky. “Lillian,” he murmured, “they’re not attacking.” Not yet. Lillian’s pulse pounded. These weren’t mere spirits—they were something more. Trapped between realms, caught in the moment of their death, waiting. For what? Or who? Fenros let out a low, warning growl. "They are not whole. Their souls were never allowed to rest." Lillian swallowed hard. “They were Moonborn,” she whispered. “Our ancestors.” Aedric’s grip tightened on his sword. “Then why are they here now?” Before she could answer, one of the spirits stepped forward. Unlike the others, its features were clearer—almost recognizable. The silver glow in its eyes flickered like dying embers. And when it spoke, its voice was a thousand
The air in the chamber was thick with power, humming against Lillian’s skin as she stepped toward the altar. Each footstep felt heavier, as if the past itself was weighing her down, pulling her into its embrace. The moonstone crown shimmered under the fractured light. Untouched. Unclaimed. Yet pulsing with an eerie, ancient energy. Aedric was tense beside her, his golden eyes locked on the artifact. “Are we sure this is a good idea?” Lillian exhaled slowly. “No.” But she reached out anyway. Her fingers brushed the cool metal— And the world broke apart. The Queen’s Last Stand Darkness swallowed her whole. When her vision cleared, she was no longer in the Ruined Keep. She stood in a great hall, the scent of burning incense thick in the air. Torches lined the walls, casting long shadows over the stone floor. The ceiling stretched high, carved with symbols she could not read—but somehow, understood. And before her, seated on a grand throne, was a woman. Her face
The figure stepped forward, its form shifting between solid and shadow, an echo of something that should not exist. The weight of its presence pressed against Lillian’s chest, making it hard to breathe. "You feel it, don’t you?" the entity murmured, tilting its head. "The part of you that remembers. The part of you that belongs to me."Lillian’s fingers curled into fists. “You’re lying.”The figure’s silver eyes gleamed, too much like her own. "Am I?"Aedric shifted beside her, his sword still raised, his muscles coiled for a fight. “Who are you?” he demanded again. The entity let out a low, almost amused chuckle. "I am the piece that was severed. The truth that was buried. The part of the last queen that refused to die."* The words sent a chill through Lillian’s bones.The queen… her past self… had tried to stop the destruction of their people. She had fought against Kael, against whatever ancient force had been pulling the strings.But in doing so, she had lost something.Somet
The ruins felt different now. Heavier. The air was thick with power, as if something ancient still lingered, watching.Lillian’s legs were unsteady as she pushed herself upright. The shadows that had tried to consume her were gone—but their presence still pulsed beneath her skin, a reminder of how close she had come to losing herself. Aedric was at her side instantly. “Are you alright?” She wasn’t sure how to answer. Something inside her had changed. She could feel it. A fracture in her soul. A tether to something dark, something old. She swallowed. “I saw it. The part of me that was lost.” Fenros’ ears flattened. "And?" Lillian exhaled slowly, trying to steady her racing thoughts. “It’s trying to take me back. To finish what was started centuries ago.” Aedric’s expression darkened. “Then we can’t let it.” Lillian nodded, but deep inside, a terrifying thought crept in. What if it was already too late? The Path to Truth The spectral warriors still stood around t
The ruins trembled as the fissure widened, spilling more silver light into the air. The hum of ancient power vibrated through Lillian’s bones, an eerie rhythm that pulsed in sync with her heartbeat.The entity was waiting. It had always been waiting. Aedric reached for her, his fingers brushing her wrist. “You don’t have to do this.” Lillian turned to him, meeting his gaze. “Yes, I do.” There was no other path. No running. No hiding. This was the truth buried beneath her past. The war she had left unfinished. Aedric exhaled sharply, frustration flickering across his face. But he didn’t stop her when she stepped toward the fissure. The silver glow reflected in her eyes as she stared into the abyss. She had expected darkness. Instead, she saw herself. Not her reflection—something older. A woman with the same silver eyes, the same features, standing within the swirling light. The last Moonborn queen. The part of her that had been left behind. "You finally understand, don’t y
The ruins groaned as the power settled inside Lillian, the air thick with the weight of something ancient and unrelenting. She could feel the darkness curling inside her, pressing against the edges of her control. It wasn’t fighting her. It was waiting. Testing her. Aedric was watching her carefully, his golden eyes flickering with a wariness she had never seen before. “You said you know where we need to go,” he said, voice measured. “Where?” Lillian turned toward the crumbling archway ahead, her steps steady despite the storm raging inside her. “The Moonborn Throne.” Fenros let out a low growl, his hackles raised. "You cannot mean to go there. The last time you sat upon that throne, you—" He stopped himself. Lillian clenched her jaw. “I died.” The word settled between them like a curse. Aedric exhaled sharply. “And you think returning there will fix this?” “I don’t think it will,” she admitted. “But I know that’s where the darkness is leading me.”She placed a hand over he
The throne pulsed with silver veins of power, the shadows curling around it like living tendrils. Lillian could feel it in her bones—the weight of what was about to happen. She was meant to sit there.Meant to claim what had been lost. But at what cost? The first queen stepped closer, her silver eyes locking onto Lillian’s. “You hesitate.” Lillian clenched her fists. “I know what this throne does. I remember what it did to me before.” The queen’s expression didn’t change. “And yet, you returned.” Aedric stood at Lillian’s side, his sword lowered but ready. “She came here to stop this, not become another sacrifice.” The queen barely glanced at him. “She does not need a sword at her side. She needs the truth.” Lillian’s chest tightened. “And what’s that?” The queen raised a hand, gesturing to the obsidian seat. “The throne is not just power. It is a trial. A test of will. You were never meant to rule with darkness, Lillian. You were meant to conquer it.” Lillian’s pulse pound
Lillian stood over Selene’s lifeless body, her breath steady, her grip on the dagger unyielding. The forest was eerily silent now, the echoes of battle fading into the cold night air. Aedric reached for her, his warm fingers brushing against her wrist. “It’s done,” he murmured, his golden eyes watching her carefully. But Lillian wasn’t so sure. Selene’s last words still rang in her ears. "You think this is over? You have no idea what’s coming." A chill that had nothing to do with the night air crept down her spine. Cassian approached, wiping his blade clean. “We should burn the body,” he said. “Make sure there’s nothing left.” Lillian nodded absently, but her mind was elsewhere. Selene had always been a strategist. A woman who never moved unless the board was set in her favor. If she had been so willing to die here tonight… What had she set in motion before her end? Aedric seemed to sense her unease. He turned to Cassian. “Do it. Then return to the castle. We need to reinfo
The forest was no longer silent. The wind carried whispers—no, not whispers. Murmurs of something unnatural.Lillian’s fingers curled into fists. Her pulse hammered against her ribs as cloaked figures emerged from the darkness. One by one, until they formed a half-circle around her, Aedric, and Cassian. Their faces were hidden beneath their hoods, but their presence reeked of something ancient, tainted. Selene stood in the center, her smirk widening. “You always thought you were the hunter, Lillian,” she purred, stepping forward. “But tell me, how does it feel to be the prey?” Aedric let out a deep, guttural growl, his massive Lycan form radiating power. Cassian’s sword gleamed under the moonlight, his stance ready for blood. But Lillian didn’t move. She studied. She calculated.Selene’s confidence wasn’t misplaced—not entirely. This wasn’t a reckless ambush. The cloaked figures weren’t ordinary mercenaries.Then, she felt it. The sharp pull of magic. Dark magic. A shadow-wield
The dungeons of Moonveil Keep were cold, damp, and reeked of desperation. Lord Darius sat chained to the stone wall, his once-pristine garments stained with sweat and dust. His breathing was ragged, fear clinging to him like a second skin. Lillian stood before him, her expression unreadable. Aedric and Cassian flanked her, their presence as imposing as the iron bars that surrounded them. “You have one chance, Darius,” Lillian said, her voice eerily calm. “Tell me who you serve.” Darius let out a bitter laugh. “You think I’ll betray them so easily?” Aedric crouched beside him, tilting his head. “I think you already have.” Darius’s jaw clenched. “I did nothing wrong.” Lillian sighed, stepping closer. “Poisoning a noble at my feast? That was either bold or desperate. And something tells me you weren’t acting alone.” Darius looked away. “You won’t get anything from me.” Cassian smirked. “We don’t have to. You’re already crumbling.” Lillian knelt beside him, her voice lowering to
The night of the feast arrived with an air of anticipation so thick it could be cut with a blade. The grand hall of Moonveil Keep was adorned in flickering candlelight, gold-trimmed banners, and tables overflowing with decadent dishes. The nobles were dressed in their finest silks and jewels, their laughter forced, their smiles edged with suspicion. Lillian stood at the head of the long banquet table, her gown a striking shade of midnight blue, embroidered with silver threads that shimmered like the stars. Aedric stood to her right, dressed in a dark tunic with gold accents—regal, imposing, conspicuous. He was the bait, after all. Cassian leaned against a pillar near the entrance, his keen gaze sweeping over the crowd, searching for any sign of treachery. Somewhere in this room, the traitor lurked, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Lillian raised her goblet, the room falling into hushed silence. “Tonight, we feast not only to celebrate our victory but to look forward—to
The morning sun cast long shadows across the great hall as the council gathered. The tension was palpable, an invisible force pressing down on every noble in attendance. They had all heard the rumors—the Queen had chosen an heir. Lillian sat at the head of the council table, her expression unreadable. Aedric stood just behind her, his presence a silent warning. Cassian was positioned near the door, watching each lord and lady with the sharp gaze of a predator. She let the silence stretch before finally speaking. “Last night, I made a decision that will shape the future of this kingdom.” Whispers rippled through the room. “I have chosen an heir,” she continued, her voice calm but firm. “One who will stand beside me, should anything happen to my rule.” Lady Selene, ever composed, tilted her head. “A bold move, Your Majesty. And when will we be privileged to know who this heir is?” Lillian’s lips curled into the faintest of smiles. “At the next full moon.” Murmurs spread like wil
The council meeting adjourned, but the weight of treachery lingered in the air like the scent of a storm before it broke. As the lords and ladies filed out, murmuring amongst themselves, Lillian remained seated at the head of the table, her fingers tapping against the wood in thought. Aedric stood beside her, his golden eyes scanning the chamber. "At least one of them knows more than they're saying." "At least one?" Lillian scoffed, shaking her head. "I'd wager half the room has secrets they'd rather die than reveal." Lord Darius lingered near the doorway, his expression unreadable. "The timing of Gavriel’s assassination is no coincidence. His death was meant to send a message—to you, and to every noble who would consider supporting your reign." Lillian exhaled slowly. "Then it's time we send a message of our own." Cassian, standing with arms crossed, furrowed his brows. "You mean retaliation?" Aedric smirked. "She means control. If we strike blindly, we risk making enemie
The journey back to the capital was swift but tense. Lillian rode at the head of her army, flanked by Aedric and Fenros, her mind heavy with Elena’s warning. Someone close to her was plotting treachery, but until she uncovered the snake in her court, she had to tread carefully. The towering walls of Moonveil Keep came into view just as the sun began to set. The city gates groaned open, and the streets were lined with wary citizens, their faces a mix of relief and unease. News of their victory had reached them, but so had whispers of the battles yet to come. As they rode through the winding streets toward the palace, Lillian caught glimpses of nobles in the shadows, watching her return with veiled expressions. Some bowed in respect, others turned away, their loyalties still uncertain. Aedric’s voice was low as he leaned toward her. “They fear you.” Lillian kept her expression neutral. “They should.” The doors of the great hall opened, revealing the grand council awaiting her.
The war tent fell into a charged silence after the agreement was struck. Aedric’s golden eyes burned into Gavriel, his posture tense, but he said nothing—for now. Lillian withdrew her hand, leveling Gavriel with a measured look. “You’ve secured an alliance. But know this—I will not be controlled, nor will I be used.” Gavriel’s smirk remained, but there was something sharper beneath it. “And that is precisely why I chose you.” Aedric exhaled harshly, stepping forward. “Enough.” His voice was a growl, rough from battle and barely contained fury. “We have won today, but the true war has not yet begun. House Durnath was only the first of many who will seek to challenge her claim.” His gaze flicked to Lillian, something unreadable flashing across his face. “We should return to the capital, strengthen our defenses, and prepare for what’s coming next.” Lillian nodded, her mind already moving three steps ahead. “Agreed. Fenros, oversee the wounded and ensure our dead are honored. Aedr
The battlefield was already soaked in blood when the second army crested the hills. Their banners flapped in the wind, deep green and silver—a sigil Lillian did not immediately recognize.Aedric, still in his lycan form, growled low beside her. “This wasn’t part of Durnath’s plan. Someone else wants a piece of this war.” Lillian scanned the approaching force. They were well-disciplined, their cavalry units forming precise lines, archers ready at the flanks. Whoever they were, they were not raiders.“They’re organized,” she muttered. “They’ve been waiting for this moment.”Fenros rode up, blood splattered across his armor. “Do we fall back?” “No.” Lillian straightened. “We stand.” House Durnath’s forces were already faltering, their lines breaking beneath the fury of the lycan warriors. But if this new force joined the battle as enemies, they would be caught between two armies. She had to act now. An Unexpected Alliance? Before the newcomers could fully descend upon the battlefie