The wind carried a new scent.
Power.
Raw, untamed, ancient.
In the North, where the ice never melted and the trees whispered the names of forgotten kings, a pack of shadows prowled the border between myth and memory.
At their center stood a throne of bones, half-buried in frost.
And on that throne sat Alpha Kareth of the Bleeding Claw—one of the Old Blood.
His eyes snapped open.
He smelled her.
Moonfire. Oathbound. Awakened.
He growled.
"The Moonborn rises. Call the Gathering."
Ashwood Keep – Two Nights After the Trial
The moon still hung high, though it no longer burned.
Lyra stood atop the battlements of what remained of Ashwood Keep. Below her, the survivors—Kael, the priestess Kira, remnants of the Crescent Guard—moved like shadows trying to rebuild from ash.
But their eyes always turned toward her.
She hadn't eaten. Barely slept.
Power crackled under her skin like static.
Even breathing felt different—like her lungs pulled in more than air: memories, emotions, echoes of wolves long dead.
Kael joined her. Silent at first.
Then:
"They're afraid of you."
She didn't look at him. "They should be."
"I'm not."
She glanced sideways.
"You should be."
He smiled faintly. "You saved me."
"I freed you. You'll have to save yourself now."
A long silence followed.
Then Kael reached into his coat and pulled out a broken crown—once worn by the Alpha of Ashwood. His father.
He held it toward her.
"They want a queen."
She didn't take it.
"Then they'll be disappointed."
The First Wolf Council – Three Days Later
Deep in the Hollowed Spires, where time moved like mist and voices carried across mountains, the High Howl was called.
Not in centuries had the alphas gathered in one place. But now, their messengers ran with urgency, clawmarks scratched into trees, old war drums echoing in the night.
The Council Hall was a circle of black stone, each seat carved for a specific line:
The Bleeding Claw
The Thornmane
The Stormbone
The Ashfang
The Nightveil
And now… an empty seat glowing with silver glyphs.
The Seat of the Moonborn.
Kareth was first to speak.
"She has claimed what was not offered. The Moonborn seat is earned through rite, not inherited through blood."
The Ashfang Alpha—Lady Selene, draped in black fur—narrowed her eyes.
"She passed the Trial. The Moon chose her."
Kareth bared his fangs. "Then the Moon is wrong."
From the shadows, a whisper rose.
"Or maybe you fear her."
A young wolf stepped forward—barely older than Lyra, silver-eyed, bearing a blade made of wolfbone.
Taron of Nightveil.
"You fear that someone not of your bloodline now carries more power than your entire pack combined."
Kareth stood, claws glowing red.
"Let her come then. Let her answer the Howl. If she dares."
Back in Ashwood
Lyra stood before a circle of Crescent elders.
Kael watched from the shadows as they debated her existence like she was a storm rather than a person.
"You've become a beacon," said Kira, the priestess. "Every power in the land will either want to kneel before you… or destroy you."
Lyra didn't flinch.
"Let them try."
Kira shook her head. "There's more. A new mark has appeared in the prophecy archives. The Moon Sigil… split in two."
Lyra frowned. "What does it mean?"
"It means there may be another Moonborn."
Boom.
The entire hall trembled.
A clawmark burned itself into the great stone gate.
The High Howl Call.
Lyra stared at the sigil.
The time had come.
Not to hide.
Not to run.
But to walk into the den of wolves—
And rewrite the laws of their world.
Later That Night – Ashwood Keep
The fires had died down, but Ashwood did not sleep.
Whispers slithered through the halls like cold wind. Some whispered of miracles. Others of monsters.
Lyra stood alone in the armory, staring at her reflection in the edge of her father's reforged sword.
The glyphs carved into her skin pulsed softly with light.
She didn't recognize herself.
Not just physically—spiritually. Like something sacred had hollowed her out to make space for something far older, far hungrier.
Kael entered, silent as always.
"They've chosen their side," he said. "Half want to follow you to the High Howl. The other half… think you're cursed."
"Let them think it," she replied.
He watched her for a long time.
Then stepped closer.
"What about you? What do you believe now?"
Lyra looked down at the sword. Then back into his eyes.
"I believe the Moon didn't save me. It changed me."
She stepped forward, her voice like steel cloaked in velvet.
"And if the alphas think they can leash me like a dog to their throne—"
She pressed the blade into its sheath.
"—then they'll learn what happens when the moon chooses a wolf instead of a king."
Far Away – In the Mountains Beyond the Veil
A figure moved through the fog.
Their eyes were hollow moons.
Their claws dripped with memory and madness.
In their wake, trees wilted. Rivers turned black.
And upon a cliff of shattered stars, they howled—
Not in pain.
Not in grief.
But in answer.
To Lyra.
To power.
To war.
Elsewhere – The Forbidden Lands of Varn Hollow
The stars didn't shine over Varn Hollow.
They watched.
From beneath the ruins of an ancient temple, a massive claw erupted from the earth—twisted, half-bone, half-shadow.
A pair of golden eyes blinked open in the dark.
The creature chained beneath the stone exhaled for the first time in centuries.
"Moonborn…" it whispered, voice cracking stone.
"The cycle is broken."
A robed figure kneeled before the awakening beast, tattoos writhing along his arms like living ink.
"The Alphas gather. Shall we destroy them?"
The creature grinned.
"No."
"Let them crown her. Let them believe she is their salvation."
It leaned forward, tendrils of darkness licking the walls.
"And when their hope shines brightest… I will snuff it out."
Back in Ashwood – Before the Departure
Kira the priestess handed Lyra a silver cloak stitched with ancient protection sigils.
"This was meant for the next Moon Matron."
Lyra raised a brow. "I'm not anyone's matron."
Kira smiled faintly. "No. But you are the first of your kind. That's always the loneliest path."
Kael entered, strapped in armor.
"The wolves are gathering. The High Howl awaits."
Lyra wrapped the cloak around her shoulders and stepped into the moonlight.
The silver runes on her arms shimmered like living constellations.
And when she howled into the sky—
the stars answered.