Dawn broke with blood in the sky.
Kael stood at the edge of the high mountain trail, where the wind bit like teeth and the world below looked impossibly far away. He wore no ceremonial cloak, no symbols of power. Only his wolf mark glowed faintly on his throat—a reminder of what he was. What he had done.
The Council of Elders waited ahead. Five of them. Rigid, robed, and radiating old magic.
"Alpha Blackthorn," Elder Thorne greeted with a nod that felt more like a warning.
"Elder," Kael replied evenly. "You summoned me."
"You've broken sacred order," Thorne said, skipping formalities. "You allowed a rejected mate to return without council approval. You harbored a Moonblood."
"I didn't 'allow' anything," Kael said coldly. "Seren came back of her own will. I didn't stop her."
"You should have," spat Elder Morran, her eyes sharp as daggers. "Her presence threatens the balance."
"Then why does the bond live?" Kael challenged. "Why did the fire burn blue?"
A heavy silence.
Thorne stepped forward. "Because the prophecy is in motion. And now it cannot be stopped."
⸻
The Truth of the Moonblood
Kael was led into a circle of stone, each elder standing at a point of the ancient star carved into the earth. He hated this place—Judgment Hollow, where alphas were once sentenced, where blood had once stained the stones.
"She carries the Moonblood," said Morran. "The curse hidden in your line for generations. Passed down from your mother."
Kael's blood turned cold. "That's not possible."
"It is," said Elder Ivra, speaking for the first time. Her tone was softer. Sadder. "Seren's return activated a bond that was never fully severed. The rejection left a scar. But it didn't kill the magic."
Kael clenched his fists. "What does that mean for her?"
Thorne didn't flinch. "It means she's dangerous. More dangerous than she knows."
Kael stepped forward. "Then teach her to control it."
Morran's laugh was bitter. "We do not tame wild curses. We contain them."
His jaw tightened. "You'll have to go through me."
"You'd go to war for her?" Thorne asked. "After all this time?"
Kael's voice was quiet. Deadly. "I'd go to war to stop you."
⸻
The Oath
Ivra stepped between them, raising a hand. "We are not here for war."
"We're always here for war," Kael muttered.
"Then swear," Ivra said gently. "Swear you'll keep her from the edge. Swear she won't bring prophecy to the pack's doorstep."
Kael's chest rose and fell. "And if I don't?"
"Then we bind her," Morran said. "Permanently."
Silence.
Finally, Kael nodded.
"I swear," he said. "I'll keep her from the edge."
Ivra's eyes searched his. "Even if it means walking away again?"
He didn't answer.
Because he didn't know.
⸻
Back at the Manor…
Seren stood by the glass doors of the training yard, her body humming with power. The Moonblood inside her had awakened a new sense—an awareness of energy, of nature, of Kael.
She could feel his anger as if it were her own.
He returned at dusk, walking through the manor like a ghost, silent until she spoke.
"What did they say?"
"They want to bind you," he said flatly. "If you lose control, they'll act."
She swallowed. "And you?"
He looked at her.
"Then I'll burn the council to ash."
⸻
They didn't speak after that.
Not with words.
But that night, as the moon rose high, Kael sat in the hall beside the fire while Seren stood at the railing of the manor's eastern tower. And somehow, without touching, they shared something sacred:
The knowledge that war was coming.
Not just between packs.
But within their hearts.
Seren didn't sleep.
Not because she couldn't.
Because every time she closed her eyes, she saw fire. Not just the sacred flames from the ritual… but blue wildfires burning across forests, howling wolves caught in storms, Kael on his knees—blood pouring from his chest.
Prophecy didn't whisper to her.
It screamed.
⸻
🌘 In the Moon Room
The manor had a hidden chamber in the west wing, long forgotten by most of the Redfang wolves. The Moon Room—named for the lunar carvings that arched across the ceiling—had once been used by Kael's mother. For healing. For visions. For secrets.
Seren found herself drawn there, barefoot, a candle in one hand and the tremble of fate in the other.
As she stepped inside, her pulse slowed. The room hummed with power—old and feminine. The air was scented with silverroot and ash. On the floor was a single, unbroken circle drawn in chalk. Symbols she didn't recognize flared faintly in the candlelight.
The moment she stepped into the circle, the room pulsed.
And then—
A voice, not her own, echoed through her mind.
"The bond will bleed.
One heart will break.
The moon will choose its vessel."
She gasped, falling to her knees.
It wasn't a dream.
It wasn't magic.
It was a warning.
⸻
Kael's Past Revealed
Meanwhile, Kael sat in the Alpha's study, staring at the old portrait of his mother.
She had the same eyes as him—stormy, sharp, endlessly tired.
He hadn't spoken of her in years. Hadn't let himself remember.
But tonight, it felt impossible not to.
He poured himself another drink. The burn in his throat couldn't erase the memory:
The night she died.
⸻
He was fifteen. Young. Uncrowned.
The council had gathered in secret that night, whispering about Moonblood awakening in the north. His mother had told them it was a blessing.
Thorne said it was a curse.
They argued.
She fought.
And in the end, she vanished—gone in the night, no body, no trail. Just a single silver feather left in the chamber.
They said she ran.
Kael never believed that.
He believed she was erased.
He ran his fingers over the old blade she used to carry—ceremonial, not meant for war. But Kael had made it sharp anyway.
Now the same prophecy hunted Seren.
History was repeating itself.
And this time, he wouldn't lose her.
🌒 The Connection Deepens
Seren returned to her chambers pale and shaking.
Kael met her in the hallway, instantly alert.
"What happened?" he asked.
She hesitated. "The Moon Room. I saw—heard—something."
His eyes darkened. "What did it say?"
She didn't want to tell him. But she did anyway.
As she repeated the prophecy, Kael stilled.
"The moon will choose its vessel," he repeated.
"Do you know what it means?"
"No," he said. "But I know someone who might."
That night, Kael wrote a letter. Sealed it in blood.
He tied it to a silver raven and sent it north—beyond Redfang borders, beyond safety.
To the one wolf who lived outside the laws of the packs.
To the only creature left who might know the truth of the Moonblood prophecy.
His exiled brother.
🌕 That Same Night…
Seren sat alone in the Moon Room again—despite Kael's warning.
The whispers had faded, but the feeling remained. A pulse in the air, a tug in her chest, like something calling from beneath the skin of the world.
She placed her hand on the ancient runes carved into the stone floor.
They were warm.
Then suddenly, her chest burned.
The bond mark — the one Kael's rejection had once dulled — surged alive beneath her skin. She gasped as a heat like lightning shot down her spine.
Her vision blurred.
And then—
She saw Kael.
Bleeding.
On his knees.
Surrounded by shadows.
Begging someone to kill him.
The vision shattered with a scream.
⸻
Kael burst through the door seconds later, his scent all cedar and storm.
"What happened?" he asked, rushing to her side.
"I saw you," she whispered, clutching his shirt. "You were hurt. You were dying."
His face tightened. "What did you see exactly?"
"A place I didn't recognize. Stones… torches… something cold. I think—Kael, I think it hasn't happened yet."
His hand slid to her shoulder. "Then we'll make sure it doesn't."
She looked up at him. "How?"
His voice was a breath away. "By staying close."
The Moment Between Them
For a heartbeat, the room was silent. Intimate.
Seren's fingers still clung to his shirt. Kael didn't pull away. His eyes dropped to her lips, then to the mark that glowed faintly on her collarbone.
"I never stopped feeling it," he said, voice low. "The bond. Even after I rejected you. It never truly broke."
"Then why did you do it?" she asked, barely a whisper.
"Because I thought love made me weak."
"And now?"
His hand rose, brushing her cheek gently.
"Now I think it might be the only thing keeping me alive."
But before either could move—before lips touched, before walls broke—Seren stiffened.
Her eyes glowed silver again.
Kael gripped her shoulders. "What is it?"
She didn't answer.
Because this time, the vision wasn't just a glimpse.
It was a warning.
The council had decided.
They weren't going to wait for prophecy to unfold.
They were going to end it.
In a hidden council chamber, Elder Morran lit a black candle and spoke into the flame.
"Begin the extraction.
The Moonblood must be silenced.
Even if it means the Alpha falls beside her."
The manor was still in the early hours before dawn, but Kael was wide awake.
He sat on the edge of his bed, elbows resting on his knees, the parchment from the raven still clenched in one hand. The seal had bled through the paper overnight—Council blood-ink always did that when laced with divine intent.
The message was clear:
"The Alpha of Redfang shall stand before the Council at dawn. Alone. Or face dissolution of leadership rights under Section Seven of the Pack Concord. Signed in blood, sealed in bond."
He stared at the floor. Shadows shifted on the walls like wolves stalking him in silence.
Seren was just down the hall.
And the fire that had reignited between them last night—literal and metaphorical—was still burning inside his chest.
🌕 The Trial Awaits
The council chamber was carved into the mountain itself. A domed vault of black stone and ashwood, lit by floating orbs of lunar light that dimmed and flared with the mood of the room.
Kael stood in the center of the circle, alone.
Twelve Elders sat above him—robes, masks, judgment. At their center sat Elder Thorne, his silver eyes glinting with a kind of satisfaction Kael wanted to rip from his face.
"You arrive alone," Thorne said. "As instructed. That earns you respect."
Kael remained silent.
"But what arrives with you, Alpha Kael, is far more… complicated."
The lights dimmed. A seer stepped forward, palms glowing faint silver, eyes already clouded in vision-trance.
"The bond has been reawakened," she whispered. "Not restored—reborn. Not claimed—summoned. There is something new in it. Something… forbidden."
Murmurs spread like fire through the chamber.
Kael's voice cut through them. "You called this trial to question me. Then question me. But leave Seren out of your suspicion."
"Impossible," Thorne replied. "She is the bond. She is the prophecy."
Another Elder leaned forward. "Her Moonblood lineage has never been confirmed through ritual. Her exile was never formally sanctioned. Her return… violates three sacred accords."
Kael growled low in his throat. "So let's rewrite the damn accords."
A beat of shocked silence followed.
"You forget yourself," Thorne hissed. "You were chosen to lead. Not defy."
"I was chosen to protect this pack," Kael said, louder. "And that includes the woman who carries our fate in her blood."
🏚 Back at the Manor…
Seren stood at the tall window of the east wing, watching the wind stir the treetops. She could feel Kael's presence retreating from the valley. The bond hummed faintly—not painful, not pulling, but alive.
She placed her hand over the mark on her collarbone. It pulsed once.
A knock on the door made her turn. Aelin, the old seer who had sheltered her in exile, stepped in with slow grace.
"They've summoned him," Seren said.
"Yes," Aelin nodded. "And they'll try to turn him against you."
Seren swallowed hard. "He's already done that once."
Aelin's gaze was steady. "But this time… he knows what he's losing."
⛰️ The Council's Warning
"Alpha Kael," Thorne said, rising from his seat. "The Council is prepared to offer you a choice."
Kael raised his chin. "I'm listening."
"You may retain your rank. But only if you formally renounce the bond with Seren Blackthorn and bind yourself to another mate chosen by this council. One of untainted lineage. One of… proven loyalty."
The chamber held its breath.
"And if I refuse?" Kael asked, already knowing.
"Then Redfang will face a reformation. A new Alpha shall be named. You will step down. Seren will be taken into Council custody. For the safety of all."
Kael's wolf roared within his skin.
He didn't snarl.
He didn't shout.
He just said: "Try it."
🐺 The Alpha's Return
By the time Kael returned to the manor, dawn was breaking.
He found Seren seated on the stone steps out front, eyes trained on the horizon. She didn't look at him when she spoke.
"You fought them."
"Yes."
"And?"
"They want me to renounce the bond. Or lose the pack."
Her breath caught.
"Which will you choose?"
Kael sat beside her. Close, but not touching.
"I spent seven years pretending you didn't matter. I don't think I can survive pretending again."
She looked at him. "So you'd risk the pack?"
He didn't answer. He didn't need to.
🕯️ A Soft Moment
Later that morning, Kael stood in the old library, staring at the wall of his ancestors—portraits of every Alpha that had ruled Redfang since the First Howling.
Seren stepped in quietly.
"They all look so serious," she said.
"They had to be."
"You're different," she said. "You carry grief in your eyes."
He turned. "And you carry fire in yours."
Their gaze locked. For a moment, it wasn't about politics. Or prophecy. It was about something soft.
She reached for a book, their hands brushed.
And it burned.
Not painful. Not dangerous.
Just real.
He caught her hand, held it lightly.
"You're not safe here," he said. "And neither am I."
"So what now?"
"We rewrite the future."
🌘 That Night…
Seren stood on the manor balcony. The moon was low now, a sliver of silver against velvet sky.
Kael stepped behind her.
"The Council is watching everything," he said. "They'll move soon."
"I'm ready," she replied.
"They'll say you're a threat."
"I am."
He stepped beside her. "And I'll stand with you. Even if I lose everything."
She looked at him. Eyes no longer afraid. "Then let's give them something worth fearing."