The clearing crackled with tension as frost-laced wind whipped between the trees. Snow spun in tight circles, gathering around Aria and Ronan as if the forest itself sensed a fracture forming.
Ronan stood in front of her—half-shifted, muscles taut, claws digging into the earth.
Wolves circled them in glowing-eyed formation.
Lyra watched with a mixture of triumph, fear, and something darker.
Elda Merin raised a trembling hand. "Ronan… step aside. We must take Aria."
"No," Ronan growled, voice low and filled with teeth. "She stays with me."
Lyra stepped forward. "You can't protect her from prophecy."
Ronan bared his fangs. "Watch me."
Aria clutched his arm. "Ronan, please don't fight them—"
But he gently pulled her behind him again. His voice dropped to a whisper meant only for her:
"I won't let them cage you. Not now. Not ever."
Her chest tightened painfully.
Lyra looked between them, fury twisting her features. "Do you hear yourself, Ronan? You sound like a wolf under spell— not an Alpha King!"
Ronan's glare was ice. "I'm the only one thinking clearly."
A murmur rippled through the wolves.
Elda Merin lifted her staff. "Ronan Hale. By order of the Frostfall Council, you are commanded to surrender Aria Hale into our custody."
Ronan's response was immediate:
"No."
Lyra snapped her fingers.
Half the wolves shifted fully, fur bristling, paws planted. They formed a semicircle, blocking every escape.
Aria's heart pounded. "Ronan—they'll kill you."
"No," Ronan said, eyes glowing fiercely. "They won't."
He stepped forward—the air erupting around him in a gust of power, frost spiraling upward.
Wolves flinched backward.
Elda Merin's voice wavered. "Ronan… please. Don't force our hand."
"You forced mine the moment you voted to take her," Ronan growled.
Lyra's eyes narrowed. "Then you leave us no choice."
She raised her hand.
"Seize him."
⸻
The First Strike
Three wolves lunged at Ronan.
Aria screamed, "NO—!"
But Ronan moved with terrifying speed.
With one sweeping motion of his arm, a surge of icy wind slammed into the wolves, throwing them back across the snow.
More wolves attacked.
Ronan blocked one with his forearm, grabbed another by the scruff, and shoved them aside—but he never went for killing blows.
He was defending.
Resisting.
Holding back.
"Ronan, stop!" Aria cried. "You'll get hurt—"
"I'm fine," he gritted out as another wolf crashed into him.
He used the momentum to flip the wolf into the snow.
Lyra watched, chest rising and falling in disbelief. "You're fighting your own pack. For her?"
"For the truth," Ronan snapped. "For what's right."
Lyra's face twisted. "She will doom us all."
Ronan growled so deeply the ground vibrated.
But Aria felt it—
Fear tightening in her chest
Her mark burning under the strain
Her body trembling from too much power, too little control.
"Stop," she whispered. "Please stop—"
Her mark pulsed violently.
Ronan's eyes widened. "Aria—no—don't let the awakening surge—"
She tried to breathe, but panic squeezed her lungs.
The wolves attacking Ronan turned toward her as if sensing her instability.
Lyra pointed. "See? She's a danger!"
Ronan roared, "STAY AWAY FROM HER!"
He slammed the nearest wolf into the ground, eyes blazing.
But her vision blurred.
Her chest burned.
Her wrist ignited.
"Ronan," she gasped, "I can't—I can't control it—"
He sprinted toward her—but Lyra stepped in his path.
⸻
The Betrayal
Lyra blocked Ronan's way, her eyes fierce.
"You're blind," she hissed. "If you won't save Frostfall, I will."
Ronan snarled. "Move. Now."
"No," she whispered. "I can't let you destroy everything for her."
Then—
She lifted her hand—
And drove a silver-tipped spear toward Aria.
"NO!" Ronan roared.
Aria only had time to gasp.
But before the spear reached her—
Another wolf collided with Lyra from the side, sending the weapon flying.
A young Beta wolf—Mae's older brother, Elias—stood protectively in front of Aria.
"Enough, Lyra!" he barked. "She saved us from the Devourer!"
Lyra scrambled up, stunned. "Traitor—"
Elias growled. "I follow the Alpha. Not your fear."
Aria's knees buckled. "Elias… thank you—"
But her voice broke as the mark flared brighter—
silver bleeding into her veins
power rising too fast.
Ronan finally reached her, pulling her into his arms.
Her hands trembled violently.
"I—I can't stop it," she whispered.
Ronan pressed his forehead to hers. "Breathe through it. Stay with me. Focus on my voice."
But the pain doubled.
Her wrist blazed.
Her pulse thundered.
Her vision washed white.
Ronan held her tightly, voice cracking with fear. "Aria, please—stay with me—"
Lyra staggered up behind him.
She saw Aria's rising light and screamed:
"She's going to blow!"
Ronan snarled over his shoulder, "If she does, it's because YOU forced this!"
But Aria didn't hear the rest.
Another surge ripped through her body—
blinding
cold
unstoppable.
Silver exploded across her vision.
Everything went white.
⸻
Inside the Awakening
Aria fell again—
Into the void of moonlight
Where the world went silent
And nothing existed but her heartbeat.
Silver mist wrapped around her, warm and heavy.
Then steps echoed behind her.
She turned.
The First Luna appeared again.
Her expression grave.
Her eyes glowing with the weight of prophecy.
"You are losing control," the First Luna said.
"I know," Aria whispered. "I'm trying—I don't know how—"
"You fear yourself," the First Luna said. "Fear divides the Moonborn from their power. You must learn to trust your own strength."
"I'm not strong," Aria cried. "I'm barely surviving."
"You are Moonbreaker," the First Luna said, cupping Aria's face gently. "Your strength is not chosen. It is born."
Aria trembled. "Everyone out there is afraid of me. They think I'll destroy them."
"Will you?" the First Luna asked softly.
"No," Aria whispered. "Never."
"Then show them."
She placed her hands over Aria's.
"Control is not in your wrist. It is in your heart."
Aria inhaled slowly.
The pain eased.
The heat softened.
Her heartbeat slowed.
The First Luna smiled.
"Now return. Ronan needs you."
Aria gasped—
light swallowed her—
and she fell upward—
back into the world.
⸻
The Girl Who Stood Up
Aria's eyes snapped open.
The blinding silver light dissipated instantly, collapsing into a soft glow.
She found herself in Ronan's arms, his face pale and terrified.
"Aria?" he breathed. "Aria—can you hear me?"
She lifted a trembling hand to his cheek.
"I'm okay."
Ronan exhaled shakily and pulled her into a crushing embrace.
Lyra stared in disbelief. "She… controlled it? How?"
Aria turned to face the crowd.
Her voice was soft—but steady.
"I'm not your enemy," she said. "And I'm not a weapon. I'm trying to learn. I'm trying to survive."
Some wolves looked ashamed.
Some confused.
Some still terrified.
Elda Merin stepped forward. "Aria Hale… you stopped the surge."
Aria nodded. "I won't hurt you. Not unless you give me no choice."
Lyra scoffed. "That's supposed to reassure us?"
Aria met her gaze—eyes glowing faint silver.
"I only lose control when I'm attacked," Aria said quietly. "Or when I'm afraid."
Lyra stiffened.
Ronan stepped beside Aria, taking her hand.
His voice rang out like iron:
"She stays with me. And if anyone touches her again—there will be no more warnings."
Elda Merin raised her staff. "Enough. The council will reconvene and make a final decision."
Aria whispered to Ronan, "What happens now?"
Ronan squeezed her hand.
"We decide our next move."
He looked at the council.
Then back at Aria.
Then toward the shadowed woods.
A storm was coming.
And this time—
They wouldn't run.