THE NIGHT THE MOON SANG
The moon had always watched from afar.
But that night, it sang.
Not with words, but with energy—a deep, humming resonance that moved through every tree, every stone, every soul in Silvercrest. It began at dusk, soft as a whisper, then crescendoed into something powerful enough to stir even the most stubborn of wolves from their dens.
Luna stood atop the sacred hill where her first shift had nearly broken her. Now it glowed beneath her bare feet, runes spiraling in white fire across the ancient stone. She'd felt it before anyone—the shift in magic. The call. The prophecy Solana never spoke aloud.
The moon would sing once.
Only once.
And when it did, the world would choose.
Kael arrived first. Silent, alert, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his blade. He said nothing as he stepped into the circle. He didn't need to. He trusted her.
Asher came next, his eyes catching hers with that same gentle certainty she'd come to rely on. Not a mate chosen by fate, but one reclaimed by choice.
Then Brin, Rae, Nyla. The council. The elders. The children.
The entire pack.
Luna raised her hand.
The moon pulsed.
And then, it began.
Light shot down like rivers from the sky, illuminating the Great Forest. Flowers bloomed in moonlight that had never reached them. Old trees trembled and straightened. Wolves howled—not in fear, but awe.
It was more than magic.
It was memory.
Every wolf remembered who they were. Who they had been. Who they had lost.
Luna remembered too.
She saw Morrigan—not cloaked in red, but smiling beneath starlight as they danced as girls.
She saw her father, placing a hand on her shoulder before her first shift, whispering that he loved her no matter what she became.
She saw the child she used to be.
And the woman she had become.
The pack collapsed to their knees.
The moon hummed louder.
And Luna stepped into the center.
The stone beneath her feet cracked open, revealing a pool of liquid silver. Not lava. Not water. Something older.
The Moon's Breath.
Solana had spoken of it once—a relic of the First Age, said to awaken only when the world stood on the cusp of transformation.
Kael approached. "This is why we're here."
She nodded. "It's a choice."
Asher moved beside her. "Yours alone."
"What happens if I enter it?"
"You become more," Kael said.
"What happens if I don't?"
"You remain what you are."
Luna looked at her people.
At her world.
At herself.
Then she stepped forward.
Her foot touched the liquid.
And the world blinked.
She was no longer in Silvercrest.
She stood in a place of moonlight and shadow, stars beneath her feet, galaxies in her breath.
A woman stepped forward.
The Moon Goddess.
"Luna," she said softly. "Child of war. Daughter of light. Are you ready to claim the final gift?"
Luna hesitated. "I don't know what I'm becoming."
"Nor did the moon, when it first rose."
"What is the gift?"
"Not power. Not immortality. Understanding."
"Of what?"
"Yourself. Your kind. Your place in the balance."
Luna exhaled. "I'm afraid."
The Goddess smiled. "Good. That means you're ready."
She held out her hand.
Luna took it.
—
She returned gasping, silver fire swirling across her skin.
The Breath had marked her.
Her eyes were stars. Her heartbeat, thunder. Her voice, wind.
And yet—she was still Luna.
"I remember everything," she whispered. "Every life. Every choice. Every wolf who ever carried this gift."
The ground beneath her pulsed.
Magic surged.
And with it came change.
Wolves shed their old wounds. The injured stood. The blind saw. The lost found their way.
The moon sang louder.
Luna raised her hands and channeled it.
Not as a weapon.
As a song.
A lullaby for the world.
She walked among them, her touch healing. Her presence grounding. Children reached for her. Warriors bowed.
But she didn't let them.
She raised each one.
"We rise together," she said.
The ceremony lasted through the night.
And when dawn came, it was not the sun that rose first.
It was the moon.
Still shining.
Still singing.
And for the first time in history, the day began with moonlight.
In the days that followed, everything changed.
The packs formed a council not of blood, but of bond. Elders were elected by vote, not inheritance. Training included not just combat, but memory. Empathy. Balance.
Luna no longer needed to lead every battle.
Because she had taught them how to lead themselves.
Kael became Guardian of the Veil, protecting the borders between realms.
Asher rebuilt the Moon Library, creating a new archive of history and heart.
Brin and Rae founded the Sanctuary of Echoes, where wolves could speak their truth and heal without judgment.
Nyla trained a new generation of fire-wielders—warriors of light and flame.
And Luna?
She didn't vanish.
But she stepped back.
She visited every village. Walked with farmers. Ate with healers. Laughed with pups.
She lived.
Fully.
Freely.
Her fire had become warmth.
Her strength, peace.
And on the one-year anniversary of the night the moon sang, she stood again at the sacred hill.
Asher joined her, their fingers interlaced.
"Are you ready?" he asked.
"For what?" she smiled.
"For the next story."
And she nodded.
Not as the girl who hated her fur.
But as the Luna who taught the moon how to rise.