The wind carried whispers tonight.
Not the gentle rustle of leaves, but urgent murmurs from the far borders of Mooncrest. Wolves skittered nervously through the trees, eyes wide in the moonlight. Even the air tasted different—metallic, heavy with anticipation.
Draven stood at my side on the balcony of the packhouse, eyes scanning the horizon. His wolf prowled beneath the skin of his body, coiled and ready.
"I can feel it," he murmured, voice low. "Lucian warned us for a reason."
I didn't need him to explain. The exiled Beta's words had been a chilling promise: Others know what she is.
My silver thrummed beneath my skin, responding instinctively to the unseen threat. Something was moving out there. Something powerful.
"I sense more than one," I said quietly. "A pack. Not rogues. Not strays."
Draven's jaw tightened. "Rogues beyond the border can't coordinate like this. This is deliberate."
A howl split the night.
Long. Low. Threatening.
The pack below us froze. Some wolves shifted instinctively, others bristled in fear.
"Show yourself!" Draven called into the dark, voice echoing across the trees.
The response was immediate. Figures appeared in the shadows, moving in silence, sleek and deadly. Eyes glinted like molten gold in the moonlight.
Rogues. Exiles. Wolves who had once whispered about the Silver Moonline.
I could feel it—the recognition, the hesitation. They sensed power in me. Not ordinary pack power, but ancient, raw, commanding.
"Aria," Draven said, tone tighter than steel. "If they cross the line, don't hold back."
I smiled faintly. "Neither will you."
The enemy pack halted at the clearing's edge, forming a half-circle in the trees. Their Alpha stepped forward—a massive wolf, black fur streaked with silver, eyes sharp and cruel.
"You are the Silver one," he hissed. His gaze locked onto mine. "The one who disrupted the order. The one they fear."
"I am exactly who you think I am," I replied, letting my silver shimmer rise like mist around me. "And I protect what is mine."
A snarl broke out among their ranks. The Alpha lunged forward, shifting mid-air into his wolf form. He was massive—larger than any Mooncrest warrior, teeth bared, claws like blades.
Draven was at my side instantly, shifting as well, muscles rippling under black fur. "Mooncrest stands with me," he growled, voice deep and resonant.
I shifted too, letting silver radiate across my fur, illuminating the clearing. My wolf towered above most of the enemy ranks, eyes glowing like twin moons.
The air vibrated. The bond between Draven and me pulsed, a tether of shared power and understanding.
The Alpha snarled, circling. "You will not survive. Your Silver will die tonight."
"Try me," I whispered.
Cassian appeared at my flank, rogue pack warriors flanking us. He didn't command, didn't intervene—just stood ready, respect in his posture. He knew better than anyone: I was no longer the rejected girl kneeling in dirt.
The first clash was thunderous.
Claws tore through the earth, teeth snapped in the shadows, and the moon above reflected off silver fur like liquid light.
I felt every strike, every wind of aggression, but instead of fear, I felt exhilaration. Every movement was precise, a dance I had been trained for, a power awakened in exile now unleashed.
Draven and I moved in sync, instincts overlapping without a word. Our wolves brushed, circled, and struck together. Enemy forces faltered.
The Silver thrummed inside me, responding to the bond, amplifying speed, strength, and clarity.
And then the enemy Alpha paused. Recognition flickered in his eyes. Fear. Respect.
He hadn't expected this.
He hadn't expected me.
Not like this.
Not Silver.
Not strong.
Not chosen.
The clearing stilled briefly. Both sides assessing, counting, waiting.
Draven leaned close to my ear. "They've underestimated you."
"I let them," I whispered, a smirk forming on my lips. "Now they'll regret it."
And for the first time since my rejection, I felt it fully: the exhilaration of power reclaimed, of destiny embraced, of Silver unleashed.
The battle had just begun.
But Mooncrest would not fall tonight.
Not while I drew breath.
Not while we fought together.
And somewhere deep inside me, the Silver Moonline pulsed with something ancient: a promise that no force in the world would bend me again.