Chapter 32: The Last Battle
The wind howled like a warning across the Southern woods, carrying with it the metallic sting of diesel and the copper tang of blood yet to be spilled. The forest groaned under the pressure of an oncoming storm—though no thunderclouds gathered in the sky. The storm was made of wolves.
Amber's paws pounded against the earth as she ran, silver fur glinting beneath the swollen face of the full moon. Her lungs burned, heart hammering like a drumbeat of desperation. The forest blurred past—trunks, roots, shadows—and yet her senses sharpened, every sound amplified, every scent a warning. She knew before she even saw it. She could feel it.
The Luna Café.
Her sanctuary. Her mother's legacy. Their home.
As she broke from the tree line into the clearing, her worst fears materialized.
Shadows—hulking, brutish, wrong. Wolves, but not her pack. Bandits. Rogues whose scent reeked of rot and violence. They moved like predators circling prey, their eyes gleaming with hunger. One of them, a scar-faced brute, uncorked a jug and splashed liquid across the wooden boards of the café's porch.
The stench hit Amber's nose like a slap.
Diesel.
Her heart seized. They're going to burn it.
Her wolf form shifted in a blur of silver light, claws retracting, fur dissolving into skin. She stumbled forward barefoot, her human voice ragged with panic.
"Jam! Get out!" she screamed, throat raw. "All of you—RUN!"
From behind the shattered kitchen door, a familiar shape appeared: Jam, her loyal friend, in wolf form. Ears perked, eyes wide, muscles taut with alarm.
But before Amber could run to her, another figure stepped into the firelight.
Liza Conri.
Her presence was venom in flesh—her human form towering, her dark hair matted with sweat, her smile sharp enough to cut.
"You made it," she purred, voice carrying the satisfaction of a trap sprung shut. "Just in time to watch it all burn."
Her body twisted, bones cracking in grotesque harmony as she shifted mid-sentence into her monstrous wolf form. Black fur streaked with crimson burst forth, her eyes gleaming like molten coal.
And then—she lunged.
Amber barely raised her arms before fangs sank into her shoulder. White-hot pain lanced through her body as flesh tore, blood pouring fast and hot. The world blurred, her scream ripping through the night like glass shattering. She staggered back, vision flickering—
A different scream followed.
"NO!"
It was Philip.
Her father.
He stumbled from the shadows, trembling, eyes wide with horror. His hands shook violently, gripping a blade that caught the moonlight. A weapon he had never wanted to use.
He ran at Liza with a desperate cry, all the strength of guilt and grief behind his charge. The blade sank into her back, flesh and fur tearing around the wound.
"You MONSTER!" he roared, tears carving down his cheeks.
For a heartbeat—just one—Amber thought it might be enough.
But Liza was no ordinary wolf.
She twisted, fury incarnate, and her jaws snapped around his throat before he could pull the blade free. One bite. One savage jerk.
The sound was sickening.
Philip crumpled to the ground, blood spilling in rivers, his eyes glassy and lifeless as they stared into the infinite sky.
"DAD!" Amber screamed, voice shredding into a broken howl. Her knees buckled as she staggered toward him, hands reaching for a body that no longer breathed.
But there was no time for grief.
Because Liza had turned her blazing eyes toward the orphaned young wolves now spilling from the café.
Jam was the first to leap, her tawny wolf form colliding with Liza's massive body in a snarl of defiance. Teeth sank into fur, claws raked across muscle.
And then the battle erupted.
The young wolves—her pack, her family—poured from hiding. Some barely past adolescence, their bodies lean and trembling, their eyes fierce with courage. Boys and girls who should never have had to fight met the bandits head-on. Claws clashed against claws, teeth tore into flesh, and the clearing exploded with violence.
Blood slicked the gravel. Flames hissed and licked at the edges of the café, smoke curling upward.
Amber's grief twisted into rage.
Her shoulder bled freely, but she rose, silver fire igniting in her veins.
This was her pack. Her home.
And Liza Conri would not take it.
Amber lunged, her body shifting mid-air back into wolf form, silver fur blazing under the moon. She slammed into Liza with a force that rattled the ground. Their bodies collided like thunder, claws and fangs flashing.
Amber slashed at her muzzle, her claws drawing blood, but Liza's size and experience overwhelmed her. The elder wolf raked talons down Amber's side, tearing fur and flesh. Amber cried out, but bit back with ferocity, her fangs locking into Liza's foreleg.
They rolled across the gravel, crashed into overturned tables, shattered windows. Fire cracked dangerously close, embers showering the battlefield. Wolves screamed and howled around them, the chorus of war rising into the night.
Liza hurled Amber against the café wall. Wood splintered under the impact, her body crumpling, the air ripped from her lungs.
Amber lay dazed, her wolf form flickering. Her limbs trembled, her vision tunneling. She tasted blood—her own—and the world began to fade.
Her wolf slipped. Her body shifted back into human form, fragile and broken, sprawled across the dirt.
The edges of the world grew dark.
And then—
A howl.
Not of grief. Not of fear.
But of fury.
The forest trembled. The ground seemed to shudder. Birds scattered in the distance as the night itself recoiled.
From the trees, a colossal figure emerged.
Zach.
But not the Zach she knew.
He loomed larger than any wolf in memory, fur black as shadow, streaked with silver that shimmered like lightning. His eyes burned, glowing with a feral, unnatural light. His body radiated power and madness, his breath a growl that shook the marrow of every wolf on the field.
The Super Alpha.
Unchained.
He was no longer the gentle man who brewed coffee and whispered promises in the dark. Not the protector who had stood at her side. He was raw instinct, destruction incarnate.
The bandits turned at the sound of his snarl. Some froze. Others ran. None survived.
Zach tore into them like a tempest. Each swipe of his claws downed another wolf. Each bite was fatal, tearing throats, snapping spines. He did not pause. He did not choose. Every moving thing in his path was slaughtered.
Children screamed and scattered. Jam retreated, dragging two younger wolves with her, her eyes wide with terror.
Zach's mind was gone. The man was buried beneath the beast. His glowing eyes were hollow, stripped of recognition. He was death unbound.
And then—he turned toward the orphans.
Small, trembling bodies. Too slow to run. Too young to fight.
He bared his fangs.
"No!" Jam cried, desperation tearing from her throat.
He lunged.
And then—
A voice.
Soft. Broken. Familiar.
"Zach…"
Amber.
She stirred. Bloody, battered, but alive. Her voice cracked, but it reached him like lightning through fog.
"Zach… look at me…"
She stood on shaking legs, barely upright, the moonlight bathing her in silver radiance. Something inside her stirred—an ancient warmth rising from her chest, glowing brighter with each heartbeat.
He froze mid-stride.
The monstrous Alpha, unstoppable, unrelenting, stilled. His growls softened. His ears twitched.
Amber staggered forward, hand trembling as she reached for him.
Her aura flared. A light, silver and luminous, burst around her like a halo. It grew, surrounding not just her, but spilling outward, wrapping around Zach in a sphere of moonlight.
She pressed her palm against his chest.
The world exploded in light.
A dome of radiance expanded across the battlefield, silencing the snarls, the flames, the screams. Wolves froze where they stood, their eyes wide, their bodies trembling beneath the sacred power.
Zach's body convulsed violently. His muscles spasmed. His eyes flickered from white to green, back to white, then green again. His breath shuddered, as though he were drowning—then surfacing.
Amber's voice was a whisper against the roar of power.
"I'm here. I'm not afraid of you."
And with those words—the beast bowed.
The madness receded. The fire dimmed.
Zach lowered his head, trembling, his chest rising and falling in sync with hers.
The Super Alpha… calmed.
His eyes cleared, sharpened. His will returned. For the first time, the moon's curse bent to his choice.
And when his gaze lifted—it locked on Liza.
Her black-crimson fur was slick with blood. She stood frozen, horror in her coal-dark eyes.
Zach leapt.
The final strike was swift.
His jaws closed around her throat with lethal precision. One snap. One violent jerk.
Liza Conri's reign ended in silence.
Her body collapsed in the dirt, lifeless, her blood staining the ground.
The battlefield fell still.
Only embers crackled.
From the ridge, Bri arrived, his cloak dusted in ash, his face pale with awe. He had been too late to fight, but not too late to witness.
The glow surrounding Amber and Zach shimmered like something divine, unmistakably sacred.
His voice was reverent as it escaped him.
"The Luna has awakened."
The silence that followed was heavy. Wolves—injured, bloodied, broken—emerged from shadows. Their eyes reflected firelight and awe. The young ones, still trembling, clung to one another.
They had seen death. They had seen hope. They had seen prophecy come alive.
Amber was no longer just their protector.
She was their salvation.
Jam shifted back into human form, limping forward, her face streaked with blood and ash. She wrapped a long coat around Amber's shoulders. Bri stepped forward and draped another across Zach's trembling body.
The fire died. The war ended.
The prophecy was no longer whispers.
It was real.
It lived.
The Alpha and the Moon had connived.
And nothing would ever be the same again.