The fire from the Moon Pact still burned when the night deepened into silence.
The werewolves had begun to disperse, their howls fading into the forest as the stars bled into the horizon. Kale remained by the flames, staring into them, his blue eyes reflecting the firelight like glass.
Lyra approached quietly, her cloak brushing against the grass. "You didn't have to fight him that hard."
Kale didn't look up. "They needed to see what I am."
Elric snorted from behind her. "You mean a stubborn idiot with a death wish?"
Kale almost smiled. Almost. "Something like that."
Lyra sat beside him, gazing into the flames. "Do you think Varyn will really help us?"
"He agreed to the Moon Pact," Kale said. "But words mean little in a world soaked with blood and fear. I need to make him believe in more than promises."
From behind them, a heavy voice spoke — deep, resonant. "Then you'll need more than words, wizard."
They turned. Alpha Varyn stood at the edge of the firelight, his towering frame casting a long shadow across the ground. The moonlight gleamed off the silver streaks in his black hair.
"The Moon Pact is a symbol," Varyn continued. "But among my kind, words are only wind. To seal an alliance, we use blood."
Kale stood, eyes narrowing slightly. "A Blood Oath?"
Varyn nodded. "The ancient rite of the wolves. Once performed, it binds our strength and our fate together. But if either side betrays the other…"
He extended his clawed hand, and the air rippled faintly.
"…both will fall."
Lyra immediately stepped between them. "That's insane! The magic behind an oath that old could kill you, Kale!"
Elric added, "She's right. You don't know how their rites interact with human mana. It could twist your core—"
"I'll do it," Kale said simply.
Lyra froze. "Kale—"
He looked at her — calm, but firm. "If I want to lead them, I can't fear their magic. I have to show I'm willing to risk everything first."
Varyn studied him for a long, tense moment. Then a low rumble came from his chest — approval. "Good. Come."
The ritual site was deeper in the forest — an ancient circle of stone covered in moss and silver runes. The air hummed with primal energy.
The werewolves had gathered again, standing in silent reverence.
At the circle's center stood a massive stone bowl carved from obsidian, half-filled with shimmering liquid silver — moonlight condensed into matter.
Varyn stepped forward and sliced his palm with a claw. His golden blood dripped into the bowl, hissing as it touched the surface.
"Blood of the Alpha," he intoned, "symbol of the moon's fangs, the first bond."
He handed the blade — a curved obsidian dagger — to Kale.
Kale hesitated only for a moment before cutting his own palm. His blood shimmered blue as it fell into the bowl, mixing with the gold. The moment it did, the air around them shifted. The ground trembled faintly, and the runes ignited with cold light.
The silver liquid began to boil.
Varyn's voice was steady. "Repeat after me. By blood, by moon, by flame — we bind our strength, our scars, our fates."
Kale repeated it word for word, his voice merging with the Alpha's.
Their mana flared — gold and blue intertwining in the air above the bowl.
The wind roared. The moon pulsed.
Then — silence.
The liquid exploded into light, shooting upward in a column of energy that enveloped them both. Kale gasped as the power coursed through him — wild, ancient, and unrestrained. He could feel it digging into his veins, searching, recognizing the mana buried deep within his soul.
The curse of Aurelion.
His knees buckled. He clutched his chest, gasping as pain tore through him — memories not his own flashing in bursts: burning cities, screaming witches, a throne of bones under twin moons.
"Kale!" Lyra's voice broke through the haze.
He fell to one knee, his breath ragged. The mark on his hand blazed brighter than ever — forming new lines, more intricate, almost alive.
The light around him faded, leaving silence once more.
When he finally looked up, the werewolves were staring — not with fear, but awe.
Varyn stepped closer, his golden eyes steady. "It's done. The bond is sealed."
He reached down and clasped Kale's forearm. "From this day, your blood runs with ours. When you call, we answer."
Kale nodded, still catching his breath. "And when you fight… I'll stand with you."
The pack howled as one — a sound that shook the night, echoing through the valley like thunder.
But Lyra wasn't smiling. She stared at Kale's hand, where the mark still pulsed faintly blue and gold. "Kale," she whispered, "that ritual… it awakened something inside you, didn't it?"
Kale didn't answer. He could still feel the whispers in his mind — voices like wind through broken glass. Ancient, patient, and hungry.
He looked up at the moon, and for a fleeting second, his reflection in its light wasn't entirely human.