Page 63 of Moonlit Fate

“Stand strong!”I called.“They break.”

The invaders’ line wavered and then buckled. Our enemies’ retreat was a ragged, discordant rhythm that signaled their defeat, the notes of their desperation fading into the darkness of the woods.

Their withdrawal left behind the echo of combat in our ears and the aftermath of survival in our hearts. We stood, panting, a band of warriors connected by loyalty and the bold joy of victory.

I shifted and cast a quick, searching glance around my battered allies. “Is everyone accounted for?”

Joren nodded. Lyza, surrounded by the small woodland creatures who revered her, grimaced in triumph.

We were whole. We had held.

In the moments after, the tempo shifted. The Crimson Fang’s retreat was not as it seemed. It was a ploy, perhaps, leading to something more sinister. I looked across the terrain, gazelanding on Mia as she darted through the trees, her lithe form a blur of motion.

“Stay alert,” I cautioned. This battle was far from done. I felt it in my bones—a prelude to further strife, the scent of blood still thick in the air.

And then, it came. A sharp spike of fear that was unmistakably Aria’s. Our connection, unseen yet unbreakable, tugged at me with a force that demanded action.

Without hesitation, I shifted and raced through the forest, desperation driving my every step. My paws dug in, propelling me faster, deeper into the silence that cloaked the woods.

“Atticus!” Joren’s voice was faint, but I couldn’t afford to look back. There was only forward, only Aria.

As the distance shortened, the tether of our bond tightened. She needed me, and nothing would stop me from reaching her side, even if it meant tearing down every tree in the forest to reach her.

I prayed to whatever forces watched over us to let me be in time.

Through the thicket, a glimmer of moonlight revealed a devastating sight. Aria, sprawled out on the ground, her silver tresses splayed in a halo around her pale face. My Aria, motionless, vulnerable, at the mercy of those who sought to claim what was not theirs to take.

Larkin towered over Aria, his presence an affront to all that was sacred. The few Crimson Fang warriors that lingered cast furtive glances at each other, their bodies tense with anticipation.

“Don’t kill her yet.” Malice dripped from Larkin’s every measured word. “We need to bring someone in to treat that wound. She needs to live long enough to be mated to me. That will seal my claim to the Silver Claw pack.”

Her stillness was a torment, her silence a blade to my gut. But I knew I must not act rashly. The lives of my pack—for that was how I thought of them now—the sanctity of our land, and our shared dreams were all at stake. I gathered the shadows to my will and prepared to unleash the full might of my wrath.

I steeled myself for the confrontation to come. Every second mattered.My world narrowed to the pulse throbbing in my ears, to Aria’s too-still form in front of me.

A shifter I didn’t recognize approached, silent as the whispering leaves, and I instinctively braced myself for the imminent assault. His eyes flickered towards Aria.

“Atticus?” he asked.

Warily, I nodded at the unfamiliar voice, feeling a surge of adrenaline as I prepared to fight if necessary.

“I come to you in peace. Time is short, so I’ll keep it brief. I’m Eldan. That woman lying there is one of my closest friends. We can work together and get her back.”

He stepped forward and positioned himself next to me, an unexpected yet undeniably welcome ally in this moment of reckoning. Then he nodded, the message clear:Let’s take them down.

It was time to show ourselves.

With the stealth of night itself, I called on the energy inside me. The darkness answered, rising at my command.

The Crimson Fang, fixated on Aria’s prone form, did not see the change until it was upon them. Shadows surged forward, a writhing mass that closed around them with the inevitability of nightfall. They stumbled in confusion, their panicked yelps piercing the stillness.

My attention never wavered from Larkin, the man who had again dared to lay claim to what was not his to take. I’d warned him what would happen if he didn’t keep his hands off her. Larkin’s inability to keep a promise waspredictable, disappointingly unsurprising. The intensity of my stare promised retribution.

As the shadows wreaked havoc, disorienting the enemy, I advanced with predatory grace.

Larkin, his scorn now faltering, looked up to meet me. Only then did he know true terror. The shadows twisted around me, a darkness that heralded vengeance.

Larkin’s confidence shattered, his mask of bravado slipping away as he recognized defeat. With cowardice nipping at his heels, he turned sharply, a blur of motion that vanished into the thicket, fleeing from the truth of his weakness.

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