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Chapter 9 - The Altar's Call

The inner sanctum of Ironhowl Keep thrummed with a pulse that matched Eira's racing heart, the altar's glyphs blazing silver under the blood moon's crimson light. The massive stone slab at the hall's center seemed alive, its carvings writhing like wolves under moonlight, calling to the pendant burning against her chest. Eira's breath hitched, her body trembling from the surge of power she'd unleashed to open the gate. Kael's hand lingered on her arm, his touch a dangerous anchor, while Lyra stood guard at the iron door, her blade drawn against the shadows clawing beneath it. The chanting outside grew louder, a guttural hymn that shook the walls, and her cousin's voice—Sylas, the Shadowclaw leader cut through like a blade: "Eira, you can't hide from family."

She yanked free from Kael, her violet eyes blazing as she glared at the altar. "This is a mistake," she hissed, her voice raw. "That thing could kill me." But the pendant's glow pulsed in time with the altar, and the voice in her mind,the First Moon Queen's voice whispered again: Claim your birthright, or it claims you. Her power, that cursed gift to unmake Alpha bonds, was no longer a secret. The Council wanted her dead for it, the Shadowclaws wanted to wield it, and Kael damn him stood there like he'd fight the world to keep her alive.

"Then don't touch it," Kael said, his amber eyes locked on hers, fierce but steady. Blood streaked his chest, his arm, his face, but his stance was unyielding, a warrior carved from iron and will. "We'll find another way. But you're not running, Eira. Not from this."

She laughed, bitter and sharp. "You think you can order me, Alpha?" But her defiance felt hollow. The bond between them hummed, a thread she couldn't cut, pulling tighter with every glance, every touch. She hated it,hated how his words, I'm with you, echoed in her chest like a vow she didn't want to believe.

Lyra's voice snapped through the tension. "We don't have time for this!" She pressed her shoulder against the gate, her face pale as the wards flickered, their runes dimming under the Shadowclaws' relentless chanting. "Those wolves aren't natural, and the Council's riders are circling. If we don't do something, they'll tear this keep apart!"

Eira's gaze flicked to the gate, where shadows writhed like smoke, the violet-eyed wolves' forms pressing against the iron. Sylas's voice slithered through again, cold and intimate: "Eira, you're the key. Join me, or watch your Alpha burn." Her stomach twisted. Cousin or not, Sylas wasn't family he was a predator, his violet eyes mirroring hers but laced with a hunger for power she didn't trust.

The altar flared brighter, its light spilling across the hall, and Eira's pendant burned, forcing a gasp from her lips. Another vision hit: a grove in the Moonveil Forest, a throne of moonlight, and her own hands glowing with a power that could reshape the world or destroy it. Claim it now, the voice urged, or lose everything. She stumbled, clutching the pendant, its heat searing her skin. Kael caught her, his hands steady but his eyes wild with something she couldn't name—fear, need, or both.

"Eira, look at me," he said, his voice low, cutting through the chaos. "Whatever that altar is, whatever you are, I'm not letting them take you. But you have to choose."

Her chest tightened. Choose. Run to the Wastes, where she'd be hunted forever? Join Sylas and his Shadowclaws, risking her power in their hands? Or trust Kael, an Alpha, her enemy, whose bond made her feel things she'd sworn to bury? The gate shuddered, a deafening crack splitting the air as the wards failed. The violet-eyed wolves howled, their forms bursting through in a wave of shadow and claw, their eyes locked on her.

"Move!" Lyra shouted, slashing at the first wolf. Her blade bit into its flank, but it barely flinched, its form flickering like a nightmare. Kael shoved Eira behind him, his sword flashing as he met another wolf head-on, its claws raking his shoulder. Blood sprayed, but he didn't falter, his roar shaking the hall.

Eira's power surged, unbidden, a silver light flaring from her hands. She didn't mean to,she couldn't control it but the light slammed into the wolves, forcing them back, their forms dissolving into smoke. The effort dropped her to her knees, her vision swimming, the pendant's glow pulsing wildly. "No," she gasped, clutching her chest. "Not now."

Kael was at her side in an instant, his bloodied hand gripping hers. "You're stronger than this," he said, his voice fierce. "You're not their weapon. You're not their heir. You're Eira."

His words hit harder than the wolves, stirring something she didn't want to feel. She wasn't just Eira not anymore. The First Moon Queen's blood ran in her veins, a legacy she'd run from for years. But the altar called, its glyphs blazing, and the voice in her mind roared: Claim it, or they all die.

The gate exploded inward, shards of iron flying as Sylas stepped through, his silver hair gleaming, his violet eyes cold and commanding. Behind him, more wolves surged, their forms half-shadow, half-flesh, and the chanting reached a fever pitch, shaking the skylight above. "Eira," he said, his voice smooth, almost tender. "You can't fight fate. Come with me, and we'll end the Alphas' tyranny."

Kael's blade rose, his body a shield between her and Sylas. "She's not yours," he snarled, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver down Eira's spine. "Back off, Shadowclaw."

Sylas's smile was razor-sharp. "You think you can protect her, Alpha? You're bound to her, and it's tearing you apart." His gaze flicked to Eira, piercing. "You feel it, don't you? The bond. It's why you can't let her go."

Eira's heart stopped. The bond. The hum in her chest, the pull she couldn't deny it was real, and Sylas knew it. She glanced at Kael, his jaw tight, his eyes refusing to meet hers. He didn't deny it, and that silence was louder than any confession.

The altar flared again, its light blinding, and the pendant burned like a star. Eira's power surged, a tidal wave she couldn't hold back. She stumbled toward the altar, drawn by its call, her hands trembling as the glyphs pulsed in time with her heartbeat. "Eira, no!" Kael shouted, lunging for her, but a wolf tackled him, its claws tearing into his side.

Lyra fought her way to his side, her blade a blur, but the wolves were relentless, their violet eyes locked on Eira. Sylas stepped closer, his voice a whisper over the chaos. "Touch the altar, cousin. Claim your power. End this."

Her hand hovered over the stone, the glyphs searing her vision. The voice roared: Claim it now! But another voice,her own screamed back: What if it breaks me? The wolves closed in, Kael's roar echoed, and the blood moon pulsed above, its light drowning the hall in crimson.

She touched the altar.

Light exploded, a silver wave that knocked Sylas back, sent the wolves reeling, and shattered the skylight above. Glass rained down, and Eira's scream tore through the hall as her power surged, wild and unstoppable, visions flooding her mind: a queen, a throne, a world remade. And Kael, always Kael, standing at her side.

When the light faded, she was on her knees, gasping, the pendant dark but her hands glowing faintly. Sylas stared, his smile gone, his eyes wide with something like fear. Kael staggered to his feet, bloodied but alive, his gaze locked on her, raw and unreadable.

The ground trembled, and a new shadow loomed at the broken gate,a figure cloaked in silver, their eyes glowing with the same power as Eira's. "The heir has awakened," they said, their voice echoing with ancient authority. "And the true war begins."

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