The road to the Autumn Summit was treacherous—twisting mountain passes, forests thick with predators, and worse—rogue wolves who served no pack, loyal only to violence.
Selene knew the risks.
But what she didn't expect was betrayal so soon.
Her boots crunched over dead leaves as she moved silently through the shadows of Black Hollow Forest, just three days away from the summit grounds. The trees here stood tall and ancient, their bark blackened by time, their branches curling like twisted arms.
She was traveling alone tonight—not because she had to, but because she wanted to. Every step forward was a step toward proving she didn't need protection to become Queen. Her wolf, Aira, prowled within her, senses sharp and alert.
"Something's off," Aira warned. "We're being followed."
Selene paused, then slowly unsheathed the twin daggers strapped to her thighs. Their hilts were etched with the sigil of her house—the royal wolf in moonlight. She didn't bother looking back. Instead, she let her voice cut through the silence like a blade.
"I know you're there. Step out, or bleed in the dark."
Nothing.
Then—
Snap.
A twig broke to her left.
She spun, blades ready.
From the trees leaped two dark-cloaked figures, their faces hidden behind wolf-skull masks. Their movements were quick, deadly, practiced.
Assassins.
Selene dodged the first blade aimed at her throat, ducking and twisting low. She slashed out, one dagger slicing across her attacker's thigh. He hissed but recovered quickly.
The second assassin came in from behind, aiming for her spine.
Selene rolled forward, then launched herself upward, kicking off a nearby tree trunk and flipping over both enemies in a display that even surprised herself.
The moment her feet touched ground again, she whispered, "Awaken."
The crest around her neck blazed with silver light.
A wave of energy surged from her, momentarily blinding the attackers.
Their bodies froze mid-lunge.
Selene took her chance.
With lightning-fast precision, she stabbed one assassin in the shoulder, pinning him to a tree. He screamed, his weapon clattering to the forest floor.
The other dropped to his knees, clutching his head in agony, as Selene's aura bore down on him.
"Who sent you?" she demanded, her voice layered with the command of her Royal Alpha blood.
The first assassin spit at her feet. "You're a fraud. A cursed bloodline. You shouldn't exist."
Selene pressed the blade to his throat, fury simmering just beneath her calm expression.
"Name. Or die without purpose."
He smirked bitterly. "We serve no pack. We serve the Shadow Fang. The real rulers of this land."
Her eyes narrowed.
Shadow Fang.
A name barely whispered among even the oldest wolves. A secret organization, older than the Council itself. A cabal of wolves who worked behind the scenes, influencing packs through fear and assassination. Loyal to no Alpha. Loyal only to power.
"Why me?"
The second assassin, still gasping, rasped out, "Because if you become Queen… you'll unite them. And they need the chaos to thrive."
Selene exhaled slowly. She stepped back, yanked her blade free, and let the man collapse to the ground, unconscious.
"Let them live," Aira said inside her. "Let them crawl back to their master with a message."
Selene sheathed her weapons.
"Tell your leaders," she said aloud, "that the girl they tried to kill is no longer just a rejected Luna."
She leaned in close to the wounded assassin, her silver eyes glowing.
"She's the nightmare they've feared for a century."
Then she turned and walked into the night, her cloak trailing behind her like a shadow reborn.
—
Far away, in a cavern lit by crimson torches, a tall figure dressed in a cloak of black furs stood before a fire pit.
He watched the flame as if it spoke to him.
Behind him, a younger assassin limped into the chamber, bruised and bleeding.
"She survived," he said weakly. "She wears the crest. She fights like—like one of the old ones."
The cloaked figure didn't turn.
"Selene Aetheryn," he murmured. "So the bloodline didn't die after all."
Another voice spoke from the darkness, smooth and female.
"She'll be a problem. A big one."
"She'll be a Queen," the tall figure corrected, "if we don't act faster."
He turned finally, revealing a pale face marked with ancient runes and eyes black as midnight.
"Send word to Ironclaw and Bloodfang. Offer them power. Offer them territory. But make one thing clear…"
He smiled darkly.
"If they kneel to her, they die."
—
Back on the trail, Selene reached the summit camp before dawn. The valley below the cliffs glowed faintly with campfires and tents bearing dozens of pack banners—Bloodfang's red claw, Nightmist's silver crescent, and Ironclaw's jagged fang.
The Summit had begun.
Warriors, emissaries, and nobles from all around the region were arriving by the hour, each carrying years of alliances, grudges, and ambition.
Selene stood at the ridge, wind brushing her hair from her face.
Aira growled softly in her mind.
"This is where it begins."
"Yes," Selene whispered, eyes locked on the flags below.
"This is where I claim my throne."