Page 94 of Moonlit Fate

It was then, in that heartbeat of despair, that Seren’s will broke free from its chains. With a fierce cry, she summoned an ancient and forgotten magic, her voice the conduit for a power long buried beneath the layers of time. Ethereal figures materialized from the ether, Silver Claw warriors risen from their eternal rest to help those they had sworn to protect.

The spirits swept through the ranks of the Crimson Fang with a fury that turned blood to ice. Their spectral claws rendered flesh and spirit alike, sowing disorder among the living who dared defy the sanctity of their final rest. The forest erupted into a melody of snarls and howls, a battle between realms.

How? How could these spirits affect the world? Spirits shouldn’t have any physical impact on us.

I didn’t have time to ponder this escalation. As the spirits fought, my focus crystallized. For love, for vengeance, for the future we dared to dream.

“Fight, Aria!” I called. “For your pack, for your father, for your best friend!”

And fight she did, with the ferocity of the wild itself, her movements a dance of death. She took down one attacker even as another advanced upon her from behind, his sword raised. Before I could cry out a warning, Aria whirled and brought her arm up. The attacker’s sword sliced down, and in a gut-wrenching moment of terror, I thought he’d taken her arm off. Sparks flashed as the sword hit the bracelet I’d given her, and the stones disintegrated.

Seren’s slender form had become the conduit for a magic beyond mortal ken. Ethereal light cocooned her, piercing the night. The spirits heeded her call, their spectral forms emerging to do battle after battle with the Crimson Fang. My chest swelled with wonder and unspoken gratitude. In our darkest hour, it was Seren who shone the brightest.

With the spirits wreaking havoc, the tide turned. I sprang into the fray, driven by the need to protect and reclaim what was ours. I homed in on the pack member whose blade had pressed against Aria’s throat. His eyes went wide with terror as the apparitions descended on him. I surged forward, my body moving with predatory grace, and dispatched him with a swift, silent strike. His body crumpled to the ground.

Without missing a beat, we rushed to Seren’s side, the bindings that held her no match for our combined fury. As they fell away, she collapsed into Aria’s arms.

The forest came alive with Lyza’s summoned creatures, a menagerie of fangs and claws that fought alongside us. Eldan, his fur a blur in the night, fought with a ferocity that matched the legendary warriors of old. Joren, Mia, and Hale moved as one.

As I called the shadows, they wove in and out of our adversaries with lethal precision. We were retribution, we were justice. We were their doom.

The amulet, pulsing with an ominous light, lay forgotten. But not for long. I grabbed the artifact that had been the catalyst for so much bloodshed. Its cool surface kissed my fingers, and its power surged through me, a promise of victory tinged with the bitterness of betrayal.

A collective howl rose from the Silver Claw, a sound of triumph. I looked at the faces of those I had come to call family,scarred with the lines of battle and the relief of having overcome insurmountable odds. Our bond, wrought in the heat of conflict, was unbreakable.

And yet, even as we stood amongst the disarray of our foes, the cruel sting of fate had one more blow to deliver. A scream shattered the peace.

“Ragnar!”

The Crimson Fang alpha appeared behind Aria’s father with a serrated blade gleaming under the moonlight. With a swift, vicious motion, steel pierced flesh before the formidable Silver Claw alpha could turn to face his opponent.

Aria’s scream tore through the stillness, primal and heart-wrenching. She bolted toward her father’s murderer. I took off after her, my boots pounding against the forest floor, the distance closing with each stride.

The alpha turned, his blood-stained grin a mockery of triumph. Not today. I launched myself at him with a growl that came from the darkest corners of my soul. Our bodies collided with the force of thunderstorms. His hands sought to overpower, but they found only the resistance of a man with everything to lose.

“Never again,” I snarled, the taste of vengeance bitter on my tongue.

His eyes widened as I struck. The alpha’s grip faltered, his lifeblood seeping onto the ground. A shudder ran through him, and then he crumpled, a marionette with its strings cut.

“Father…” Aria’s voice broke as she fell to her knees beside Ragnar, her hands trembling as they reached for him.

I was there in an instant, offering what little comfort I could. “Shh, I’ve got you.” I pressed a kiss to her temple, experiencing her grief as acutely as if it were my own.

I studied the scene, ensuring no further threats lingered. Larkin stood off to the side, his expression bleak. My own father’s gaze met mine, relief blazing in his eyes.

Relief? I would ponder that later.

“Forgive me,” I said to Aria, though forgiveness was a gift neither of us could grant just yet.

24

ARIA

The clamor of battle had faded, blanketing the field in an ominous silence. I fell to my knees beside my father, the damp grass soaking my pants as I grasped at his weakening form. “Please, hold on.” My hands trembled as I clung to him, my visceral screams tearing through the air.

Atticus was there, ready for whatever I needed, being my backbone when I had none. Seren, with her quiet fortitude, stayed close, her sorrow mirroring my own.

But it was my father’s face that held me captive, and he opened his mouth.

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