The air turned dry and brittle the moment Selene crossed into the Fractured Wastes. The silver crest on her armor dulled under the red-tinged sky, and even the wind here carried whispers that slithered across her skin.
She had come alone, as she said she would. No guards. No council. No Jace.
Only Moonfire at her back and the ancient mark of the Moon Queen glowing faintly across her palm.
Behind her, the last outpost of the united packs faded into the dust. Before her, endless canyons, shifting illusions, and the kind of silence that made a wolf question whether she was still awake—or already dreaming.
Selene breathed in slowly. The scent here wasn't of life. It was… void. Stale. Wrong.
But she pressed forward.
The Wastes remembered pain. But she carried purpose.
At Ironclaw, Jace paced the length of the command tent, jaw tight and fists clenched.
"She shouldn't have gone alone."
"She knew the risks," Saria replied calmly. "And you know she would've gone even if we'd chained her down."
Korren slammed his palm on the war table. "You're both missing the point! We've seen what Damien was willing to do with even a sliver of Void magic. If he's found something deeper out there—some ancient power—we cannot allow her to face it alone!"
Saria's expression turned grim. "She's not facing it alone."
Everyone looked at her.
"She carries the Moonfire. And the Wastes will remember who once ruled the sky."
Selene moved deeper into the canyons. Hours passed—or perhaps days. Time was strange here.
Shadows moved where there were no objects to cast them. Rock formations blinked in and out of existence. At one point, she walked through a dead forest that seemed to grow and decay with every step.
But finally, as dusk fell—or perhaps dawn—she came upon something alive.
A monolith of black stone jutted out from the earth, carved in runes she didn't recognize. At its base, a circle of withered grass, despite no sun or rain.
She stepped closer.
And the stone began to hum.
Then a voice—raspy, low, and inhuman—echoed through the canyon.
"Child of moonlight… why have you come?"
Selene didn't flinch. "To face what hides in the dark."
The stone pulsed. A figure emerged—twisted and skeletal, cloaked in shadows, its eyes two burning coals. Not Damien, but something far worse.
"Many have come here seeking power. None have returned whole."
"I didn't come to seek power," Selene replied. "I came to stop the one who serves you."
The figure hissed.
"Ah… the broken Alpha. Yes. He begged. He bled. He was… eager."
Selene raised Moonfire, and its silver glow cut through the gloom.
"Where is he?"
The shadows coiled tighter around the figure, like tendrils ready to strike.
"He is no longer Damien. He is Vessel now. And he comes."
The wind shifted.
From behind, the ground cracked.
And Damien stepped forward.
Or what was left of him.
His eyes were completely black, his skin marked with the same runes as the stone. His aura bled corruption, so thick it seemed to drag light down with it.
"Hello, Selene," he rasped.
She stared at him, unreadable.
"You look worse than the last time I broke you."
He smiled, jagged and wrong.
"I'm not broken. I've ascended."
She raised Moonfire. "No. You've become a puppet."
His grin widened.
"Then let's see what happens when the puppet cuts its strings."
The battle erupted without warning.
Damien lunged, claws wreathed in voidfire, slicing through the ground as if it were ash. Selene countered, blade flashing, driving him back.
But his strength was no longer bound by flesh. He moved like smoke—then struck like steel.
Still, Selene held her ground.
Moonfire sang with every swing, burning away the corruption each time it struck. Her wolf surged beneath her skin, guiding her with instincts honed by divine blood and war.
"Come on," she growled, parrying a blow that sent shockwaves through the canyon. "Show me what your precious void has made you."
Damien snarled and drove both hands into the earth.
From below, dozens of shadow-wolves rose—creatures with empty eyes and smoking jaws. They surrounded her, growling in unison.
Selene took a breath.
And let go.
Silver light exploded from her body as her wolf form erupted in a blaze of Moonfire—taller than any before, her fur glowing white-blue, her eyes twin stars.
The shadow-wolves lunged—
And Selene met them with the fury of the moon.
Hours later, the canyon fell silent once more.
Damien lay broken, black veins twitching beneath his skin, the void fire sputtering from his chest.
Selene stood above him, human again, her blade pressed to his throat.
"End it," he whispered. "Be the queen they want. Kill the monster."
But Selene's voice was calm.
"You are no longer my burden. Let the Wastes have you."
She stepped away, and the shadows reclaimed him.
As she walked from the canyon, wounded but tall, the winds quieted.
The Wastes had seen her power.
And they would remember.