Page 214 of Moonlit Fate

I had to try again. I owed it to myself, to the pack, not to give up. I thought of them as water. It had been the first element that had been mine to command and one I’d always manipulated with ease. I lay back and closed my eyes, reaching for the shadows. I thought of them in the same way I did with the drops of water, how it felt when they moved at my command, the way the droplets danced through the air.

This time, I knew something was different. Peering through my lashes, excitement bubbled in my chest. I marveled at how the pools of darkness now swarmed above me, swirling and shifting over my head. It was a mesmerizing display, proof of the untapped power Seren had described.

This was real. This was possible.

We were going to change the tides of war.

I hurriedto the edge of the forest, then decided I’d be faster on four paws than two legs. I focused inward, feeling the bones and muscles move and rearrange as my wolf form emerged, silver fur shimmering in the moonlight. With a burst of energy, I started running across the familiar path, paws pounding on the dirt path.

I arrived at the graveyard ahead of everyone, my stomach churning. I would not order anyone into this battle. In this war, each individual would be given the autonomy to decide whether they wanted to engage in the fight.

The moon hung low, its light cutting through the mist as figures emerged from the shadows. I stood next to a centuries-old willow tree, its aged bark rough under my grip. How many wars had it seen? I hoped, for all of us, this was how we’d win, restore the balance, and maybe peace could reign over Lycanterra.

A young shifter approached me, his head bowed respectfully. “Is it time?”

“Almost,” I replied steadily.

Following closely behind, Seren joined me, her hand finding mine in a gesture of solidarity and encouragement. Eldan and Ilaric entered the graveyard together. The air was heavy with the presence of the spirits who had come to offer their support. Ilaric came to stand beside me. My wise mentor’s eyes were steady, observing everything with a keen gaze.

As Mia joined him, I marveled at the comfort they found in each other. Ilaric’s lips brushed against the healer’s cheek, which flushed a rosy pink. At least some good had come out of the mess I’d made.

Atticus’s chosen family—Lyza, Joren, and Hale—came next, along with the rogue’s who had stood with us the first time we ventured into Crimson Fang territory for the battle that had claimed my father’s life. My gaze drifted over the people gathered, over the familiar faces of my pack, Their diverse backgrounds and histories converged here on a shared purpose, ready to unite and fight together. It was truly inspiring.

It was time.

“It’s heartwarming to see you all here.” I called out, raising my voice to be heard. “None of you will be forced to join us. You have a choice. This is not your fight. You may leave now if you want, and it won’t be held against you.”

Whispers rustled like leaves in the wind as the group exchanged glances, but no one moved. Their faces were set with grim determination.

“Good,” I said. “Let’s get to work.”

We huddled around a cracked tombstone that served as our makeshift planning table.

“Okay,” I started, scanning the group. “Lorian, we need you to perform the bonds. It’s the only way we’ll access the well of magic.”

He nodded, his face grave. “It will be done swiftly.”

“Remember,” I continued, “Caius is off-limits until we have that power. Don’t engage him. Don’t even get close.”

Murmurs of agreement rippled through the gathering. We were different pieces of the same puzzle, fitting with one another for one purpose.

“Stay alive,” I finished. “That’s an order.”

They nodded, each one ready to play their part.

Ilaric stepped forward, his eyes reflecting the moonlight that slipped through the gnarled branches above. “When it’s time, count on me to boost your strength.”

“I appreciate that,” I said. “We’ll need every advantage.”

“Always,” he replied with a grim smirk.

I glanced around. Everyone was in position.

“Let’s move out,” I commanded.

As we edged closer to Crimson Fang, I reached deep within myself, searching for that familiar thread of darkness. Atticus’s gift. The shadows responded, coiling around my senses like a second skin.

“Atticus, lend me your strength.”

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