The war room was packed.
Every major player in the Shadowlands was present—Lyria, Nikolai, Dante, the clan leaders, and now Silvara, who'd agreed to leave her tower for the first time in decades.
The mood was tense.
"An alliance with Lord Draven is suicide," Nikolai stated flatly. "He's manipulating us. Using fear to gain access to our defenses."
"But what if he's telling the truth?" Dante countered. "I've heard the reports too. Strange creatures appearing. Ancient ruins activating after millennia of dormancy. Something is happening."
"We can't ignore that Kieran sensed truth in Draven's emotions," Lyria added. "Moon fae don't lie about what they perceive. If he was genuinely afraid—"
"Then maybe we should be too," Silvara finished. Her silver eyes scanned the assembled leaders. "I've lived fifteen hundred years. Seen empires rise and fall, witnessed wars that reshaped continents. And I felt it too—three months ago, something shifted in the magical currents. Something old waking."
"What kind of old?" Rhydian asked.
"The kind that predates even me. When I was young, the elders spoke of the Sealed Ones—entities so powerful and dangerous that ancient fae, vampires, werewolves, and humans worked together to imprison them. That cooperation created the magical balance that's existed ever since."
"And you think that balance is breaking?"
"I think Marcellus's death, your mate bond, Kieran's awakening—they're all symptoms of the balance shifting. Magic reordering itself. And if that's true, then the seals holding the Sealed Ones are weakening too."
Kieran felt sick. "So I'm responsible? My awakening is causing this?"
"No." Silvara's hand on his shoulder was surprisingly warm. "You're not the cause. You're the response. The universe creating a defense against what's coming. Moon fae exist to fight the darkness. You're proof that the darkness is returning."
"Then what do we do?" Rhydian's voice was strained. "How do we fight entities that required an ancient alliance to seal away?"
"By forging a new alliance. Just like our ancestors did." Silvara looked at each of them. "Like it or not, Draven's right. We need to work together. All the supernatural races, all our resources, or we die separately."
Silence fell as the weight of that settled over them.
Finally, Rhydian spoke. "We'll accept Draven's alliance. But with conditions. Our territories remain independent. Our people remain under our protection. And at the first sign of betrayal—"
"We end him," Lyria finished grimly.
"Agreed. Nikolai, draft the terms. We'll present them to Draven tomorrow." Rhydian looked exhausted suddenly. "Meeting adjourned. Everyone prepare your forces. If this is really happening, we need to be ready for anything."
The room emptied slowly, leaders murmuring among themselves.
Kieran stayed behind with Rhydian and Silvara.
"There's more you're not saying," Kieran said to the ancient fae. "I can sense it."
Silvara sighed. "Perceptive. Yes, there's more. About moon fae and the Sealed Ones."
"Tell me."
"Moon fae were created specifically to fight them. Our powers—emotion manipulation, prophetic visions, moonlight weapons—they're all designed to counter the Sealed Ones' abilities. We're their natural predators."
"Created? By whom?"
"By the universe itself. Or by the will of magic. Or by gods, if you believe in such things." Silvara's expression was ancient. "But here's what matters: if a Sealed One fully awakens, you'll be drawn to it. Compelled to fight. It's your nature, your purpose. And moon fae who face Sealed Ones don't usually survive."
Horror flooded through Kieran. "You're saying I'm destined to die fighting one of these things?"
"I'm saying your bloodline's purpose is to stand between the Sealed Ones and the world. What happens after that—survival or sacrifice—depends on you. On your power, your choices, your will to live."
"And the mate bond?" Rhydian's voice was tight. "If Kieran falls—"
"You'd likely follow. That's how mate bonds work. Which is why you both need to be as strong as possible. Your hybrid power anchors his fae magic. His light balances your darkness. Together, you might stand a chance."
"Might," Kieran repeated hollowly.
"I won't lie to you. The odds aren't good. But they're better than they've ever been. You're not facing this alone. You have the Beast King, the Shadowlands, potential allies in Draven's forces. That's more than any moon fae has had in three thousand years."
She left them alone in the war room, silence heavy between them.
"I'm sorry," Kieran whispered. "For bringing this into your life. This danger."
Rhydian pulled him close, fierce and protective. "Don't. You brought light into five hundred years of darkness. You gave me something worth living for. If the price of that is fighting ancient evils, then I'll pay it gladly."
"You could die."
"We could die. But we could also win. And either way, we face it together."
Kieran buried his face in Rhydian's chest, feeling the steady beat of his mate's heart. Strong. Alive. His.
"I'm scared," he admitted.
"So am I. But I'm also angry. These Sealed Ones—they think they can take you from me? Make you sacrifice yourself? Fuck that. I didn't wait five hundred years for a mate just to lose him to some ancient evil."
Despite everything, Kieran laughed. "So what's the plan?"
"We train. We prepare. We accept Draven's alliance while watching our backs. And when one of these Sealed Ones shows its face—" Rhydian's eyes blazed, "—we show it why you don't threaten the Beast King's mate."
That night, the prophetic dreams came again.
Fiercer this time. More vivid.
Kieran stood in a wasteland. The sky was blood-red, the ground cracked and bleeding darkness. And rising from the horizon was something massive. Something wrong.
A creature of pure shadow and hate, eyes like dying stars, form shifting between nightmarish shapes.
One of the Sealed Ones, his dreaming mind understood. Awakening.
"Little moon child," it spoke, voice like earthquakes. "You're the one they send against me? Pathetic."
It reached for him with appendages that defied geometry, and Kieran tried to run but couldn't move.
"I will tear you apart. Drink your light. Use your mate's power to fuel my return." The creature laughed. "And then I'll unmake this world piece by piece, until nothing remains but beautiful emptiness."
The appendages touched him, burning,cold, and Kieran screamed—
He woke thrashing, Rhydian's arms around him, moonlight blazing from his skin so bright it illuminated the entire bedroom.
"Breathe!" Rhydian commanded, his voice cutting through the panic. "You're here, you're safe, it was just a vision!"
Kieran gasped for air, the moonlight slowly dimming as his heartbeat settled. But his hands were shaking, his entire body cold with terror.
"It's awake," he whispered. "One of them is already awake. Not fully—but conscious. Aware. And it knows about us."
Rhydian's expression went deadly serious. "Did you see where?"
"No. Just... darkness. Emptiness. And hate. So much hate." Kieran's voice cracked. "Rhydian, it's not just powerful. It's intelligent. Strategic. It's been watching us, learning about us. About the bond."
"How do you know?"
"Because it spoke to me. Mocked me. Said it would use your power to fuel its return." Kieran looked up at his mate, terror clawing at his chest. "It wants to kill me, yes. But first, it wants to corrupt you. Turn your hybrid nature into something that serves it."
Rhydian's jaw clenched, fury radiating through the bond. "Let it try. I've spent five hundred years being called abomination, monster, thing that shouldn't exist. Some ancient evil thinks it can control me? It's welcome to try and fail."
"You don't understand how powerful it felt. Like standing in front of an avalanche and thinking you can stop it with your bare hands."
"Then we get stronger. Faster. Better." Rhydian pulled him close. "Tomorrow, we accept Draven's alliance. We start combining our forces, our knowledge. And we find where this thing is stirring before it fully awakens."
"And if we can't?"
"Then we face it when it comes. Together."
That word again. Together.
It was becoming Kieran's anchor. The promise that whatever came, he wouldn't be alone.
He pressed his face against Rhydian's neck, breathing in his mate's scent—earth and smoke and safety.
"Don't let me go," he whispered.
"Never. Not even if the universe itself tries to take you."
They stayed like that until dawn, neither sleeping, just holding each other.
Because they both knew—the peaceful moments were numbered now.
War was coming.
Not just against vampires or corrupt hunters or political enemies.
Against something that had been ancient when civilization was young.
And Kieran, with his newly awakened moon fae powers and prophetic visions, was being called to stand against it.
The question was whether he'd survive the calling.