The scent of blood still clung to the air as the last fires burned out across Ember Ravine. Though Selene's forces had claimed victory, it had not come without cost.
The wounded lay in rows on the ridge above the battlefield, and the camp was eerily quiet as the healers moved swiftly among the fallen.
Selene sat beside a young warrior, no older than seventeen. His face was pale, a fresh gash across his ribs, but his grip tightened around her hand.
"I fought for you, my Queen," he whispered.
Selene forced a soft smile, her heart aching. "And I will never forget your bravery."
She stood slowly, shoulders heavy.
She had won the battle—but war demanded more than blood. It demanded resilience.
And they would need every ounce of it.
Inside the healer's tent, Saria worked tirelessly, sweat dripping down her brow as she mended bones, closed wounds, and whispered old enchantments passed down by the Moon Priestesses.
When Jace stepped in, his arms nicked and bruised, she paused only briefly.
"You look worse than the ones you carried in," she said with a tired smirk.
Jace shrugged. "Someone had to play bait while your spells lit up the mountain."
He sat down beside her and lowered his voice. "I felt it, Saria. When the pass collapsed. That wasn't just mountain magic. It was ancient. Older than anything we've touched before."
She nodded solemnly. "I called on the earth's blood. The magic beneath the packs. But… something answered."
Jace frowned. "Something?"
Saria hesitated.
"It wasn't moon-blessed. It was wild. Dark. And it gave freely."
Back at her tent, Selene stared at the amulet Kael had given her—the silver crescent intertwined with the wolf fang.
Lately, it pulsed with warmth, as though the very essence of the moon stirred within it.
She had felt something during the battle—when the Abyssborn fell at her blade, her wolf had surged with unfamiliar strength.
It wasn't just her power anymore.
It was something more.
A bond forming. A force awakening.
Kael entered, his expression serious.
"You felt it too, didn't you?" he asked quietly.
Selene looked up.
"Yes."
"The land responds to you now. The old magic. The spirits that slumbered—they've begun to stir. And they recognize the Royal Blood."
She held his gaze. "Is that a good thing?"
Kael hesitated. "If they rise in your favor, yes. But they are not loyal to mortals. Not anymore."
As night fell, a heavy fog rolled into the summit, strange and cold.
Selene stood with Korren on the watchtower, scanning the horizon.
"Any word from Daemon?" she asked.
"Not yet. He's never late," Korren muttered.
Selene's grip tightened on the railing.
She didn't like this silence.
Suddenly, a horn sounded—three short bursts.
A warning.
Footsteps echoed in the distance. Shapes emerged from the fog.
Daemon staggered into the light, bloodied and barely conscious, a gash across his chest, his armor shredded.
Jace was the first to reach him, catching him as he fell to one knee.
"What happened?" Selene demanded.
Daemon looked up at her, pain etched across his face.
"They knew we were coming. They didn't retreat… they were waiting."
Selene's heart dropped. "You mean—"
"It was a trap. But not for the pass. For us."
He reached into his cloak and pulled out a broken shard of black stone, pulsing faintly with violet light.
"They've begun summoning something. Something beneath the Ironclaw ruins. I saw it with my own eyes."
Saria approached quickly, her breath hitching when she saw the shard.
"This is Abyss-forged," she whispered. "The Voidfang cults used these to breach magical seals."
Selene stepped closer.
"Then whatever Damien's planning—it's not just war. It's annihilation."
Daemon nodded, blood seeping through his tunic.
"He doesn't want to rule the packs anymore. He wants to burn them."
Selene stood before the Moon Tree hours later, cloak still stained with dust and ash.
She held the shard in her palm, feeling the foul energy hum against her skin.
The wind whispered through the leaves.
The spirits of the mountain were stirring.
And their message was clear:
If you wait, it will be too late.
She turned to her council, her voice strong, unwavering.
"Gather every Alpha. Every healer. Every spellcaster. We march at dawn."
Jace looked at her. "Where?"
Selene raised her eyes to the sky.
"To the ruins of Ironclaw."