Nova walked silently through the Redmoon war camp, her boots barely making a sound on the dirt path beneath her. A heavy cloak of midnight blue was drawn tight around her shoulders, the hood pulled low over her head. Beside her, Cael moved with equal quiet, his presence a solid, grounding shadow at her side.
The camp flickered with the low light of torches and soldiers murmuring in clusters. Nova's presence was masked just as Marra had instructed and no one had noticed them yet.
Marra's voice whispered into her mind, calm and sure.
Marra: We're waiting in the command tent.
Nova said nothing in reply, but she felt her breath steady, her heartbeat calm.
This was it.
As they neared the heart of the camp, the murmurs dimmed. The command tent loomed ahead — tall, dark fabric stretched tight over a sturdy frame. Torchlight pooled around it, casting golden halos on the ground.
Two guards at the entrance glanced up at the approaching figures.
One of them stepped aside and gave a single respectful nod.
Inside the tent, Marra had already arrived, standing near the head of the map table.
She turned as Nova entered and gave the subtlest of nods.
Every head in the tent turned.
The tent fell into utter silence as Nova stepped in. They'd all seen beautiful women before — warriors, Lunas, queens. But not like her.
The air changed.
The Alpha of Redmoon — tall, broad-shouldered, his red cloak slashed with gold — looked up. Beta Fang turned next. Then others followed — strategists, captains, scouts.
Nova lifted her hood back slowly, revealing the thick silver-blonde hair glimmering like moonlight. The shadows clung to her still, but her eyes gleamed — sharp emerald, vibrant even in the firelight.
She looked breathtaking – to the point where the entire room looked stunned outside of Marra.
Beautiful. A queen. Untested, perhaps — but impossible to ignore.
Cael stepped in behind her, still silent, pulling his hood back. He didn't need to speak either — his presence said enough. Loyal. Watchful. Dangerous.
At the edge of the tent, someone exhaled softly — as if they'd been holding their breath.
Marra was the first to break the silence.
"Alpha, Beta, — this is Nova, Luna of Shadowclaw and Queen of the North."
Marra continued, "Nova, this is Alpha Ragnar Redmoon, King of the Ironclaves, and Beta Theo Fang of Redmoon."
Nova inclined her head in a shallow bow, measured and deliberate, not afraid of being humble.
"Queen of the North," Ragnar Redmoon said, voice deep and resonant. "Welcome to Redmoon."
"Thank you for the invitation, Alpha," Nova said evenly.
Alpha Redmoon rose. "I see your reputation precedes you, my queen. The tales of your beauty are true. It's an honor."
Beta Fang added, "It's rare we meet a Luna so young and already carrying herself like a war general."
Nova smiled gracefully. "The honor is mine. I'm pleased to meet you both."
Marra gestured to Cael. "Alpha and Beta, this is Beta Cael Valehart of Shadowclaw."
Cael gave a short bow.
Ragnar Redmoon leaned forward, clasping his hands on the edge of the war table. His voice was steady, but there was a flicker of anticipation behind his words.
"Let's speak plainly. We agree with most of your proposal from the summit—dividing the fronts, three coordinated strikes. Brilliant, but not infallible."
"Yet." Nova said, a grin tugging at her lips betraying just a hint of challenge.
Redmoon chuckled low. "You would be correct."
She tilted her head, reading him carefully. "Then I see your reputation precedes you, my king. Please—tell me what resources you suggest."
That earned a grin from Redmoon and several of the other officers. She had echoed his own line.
"I propose we use all of our resources… including the ones that fly." He said.
The tent shifted and a ripple of motion passed through the gathered generals and war captains.
Nova's smile faded, replaced with curious focus. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," Redmoon said, his voice now louder, projecting to the room, "It's time we stopped fighting like wolves alone. We're not the only apex creatures left on this continent."
Beta Theo tapped the map. "Dragon support changes the equation. With those wings overhead, we'll shift from defense to rapid offense. If you move first, we'll follow. But we must strike hard."
Nova let her eyes sweep over the table, the maps, the officers, generals, and commanders. She took it all in — their positions, their expressions, who looked eager, who looked uncertain. But there was one face she must have missed earlier. He was younger than the others, taller than most, seated casually at the far end of the table.
He wore armor with a red-lined cloak thrown over one shoulder, and he looked entirely at ease — almost amused, even. But his golden eyes were locked on her with intense curiosity.
Nova tilted her head just a hair, acknowledging him with a silent question.
He smiled — gods, that smile — confident and far too charming. Then he stood.
Redmoon turned slightly, noticing Nova's glance. "Ah, yes," he said, voice tinged with amusement. "I should introduce you."
The young man stepped forward before his father could say more. His posture was easy, but there was a subtle strength in his movements — the kind bred in warriors who had trained their entire lives.
"Prince Rex Redmoon," he said, bowing his head respectfully, though his eyes never left hers. "Son of Ragnar, Commander of the Draken Forces and Master Commander of the Ironclave army. And apparently, very lucky to be here tonight."
A few chuckles followed that.
Redmoon looked to Nova. "You wanted a resource. I offer you the skies."
Rex grinned wider at the flicker of surprise in her expression. "Apologies, Queen Nova. I didn't mean to stare. It's just… hard not to, when someone walks into a room like thunder wrapped in silk."
Cael's eyes narrowed just slightly, but said nothing.
Nova, ever composed, offered a polite smile. "I've never met a dragon rider before."
"Then I'd be honored to be your first." His tone was smooth, not lecherous — but undeniably flirtatious.
Redmoon rolled his eyes. "Rex will be introducing you to the riders before tomorrow's war summit. The dragons will arrive at first light."
"Yes, I plan on it," Rex said, voice low. "This explains why no one's been able to look away from you."
He paused, then let out a breath of a laugh, clearly realizing he'd said that aloud.
"I should probably start over," he added, grin returning. "The Queen of the North, I didn't expect someone so—"
Nova arched a brow. "So what?"
He hesitated. "...Formidable."
"Good," Nova said lightly. "We'll get along just fine."
A few of the officers chuckled.
The tension between them was subtle — electric. Undeniable.
Another man stepped forward from the edge of the tent. Nova hadn't identified him earlier and hadn't seen him among the war council, which suggested a mage.
He spoke in Umbrael Lexicon, precise and unsoftened.
Nova regarded him for a moment. Not flustered. Considering.
When she didn't answer immediately, he translated.
"Umbrael doctrine favors indirect collapse over direct assault. Warfare is decided before contact. Yet your theory today was based on the assumption that they would be the aggressor."
A quiet stir moved through the tent.
Nova kept her composure and answered in Umbrael Lexicon.
His lips twitched, impressed despite himself. He translated Nova's answer.
"One does not rule out the other," he said carefully. "There are many parallels between wolf warfare and mage warfare. The difference lies in the tools employed, not the principles themselves. We are at a war summit because they have combined both strategies as the aggressor."
Silence followed for a moment.
Beta Fang spoke next in a deliberate, casual tone. Nova recognized the language immediately as High Morbian. Another test.
Nova considered whether it was wise to reveal so much about herself this early in an alliance, but decided to lean on trust.
At her pause, Beta Fang translated his question.
"Where did you learn that anchors can't stabilize in nullstone crystal or black aetherstone? And how did you know where in Varos those zones lie?"
Nova looked at Marra, who met her gaze with calm assurance and gave a subtle tilt of her head. Easily missed, but Nova understood.
She replied in High Morbian.
Beta Fang's expression shifted from shock to something else Nova couldn't quite place.
Redmoon glanced at Marra. The look she gave him was unmistakable. I told you.
He turned back to Nova. "Care to translate?"
"I learned of nullstone crystal and black aetherstone from the Ley Gate Scrolls," Nova said, a soft smile touching her lips. "And the locations in Varos from the Pre-Collapse Aethorian Archives."
For a moment, the tent went still. All eyes had been on Nova since she entered, so that had not changed. What did change were the expressions. Some jaws dropped in quiet astonishment. Others blinked, as if trying to determine whether what they had just witnessed had actually happened.
"Steel meets steel," Beta Fang murmured, glancing at Marra.
Rex hadn't moved from where he stood since introducing himself. His gaze stayed fixed on Nova, sharp and unreadable, as if the rest of the room had ceased to exist.
Redmoon spoke next. His voice carried a note that was almost amused. Or impressed. Nova couldn't quite tell.
"Marra found you well. You're more than a Luna to serve— you'll command. I swear Redmoon's loyalty to you, your alpha, and Shadowclaw. With Rex here to command, we'll make the dragons count."
Nova moved her eyes from Rex to Redmoon. "Your loyalty means all the difference. Together we will hold our land."
Redmoon's smile broadened. "Good. And my queen, we would like to meet with you daily while we are here at this summit. I could use your mind."
Nova blushed, a rare softness overtaking her composure—just for a moment. It reminded the room that beneath the power and poise, she was still a young woman, not just a goddess in a crown. Something in that quiet admission made the air shift again—an unspoken urge stirring in those present to protect her, not because she was fragile, but because she was worthy.
"I would be honored," she said, the words almost reverent.
Rex stared at her, as if he was in a trance. Unable to look away. That blush stirred something inside of his soul. That scent, was impossible to ignore. He had the urge to touch her.
His wolf spoke to him. But he already knew before he heard the words. He'd known since the second she walked into the tent.
Mine. Mate.
He fought his instincts and his wolf. With every ounce of self control he had, he stepped away with a last flick of his gaze, returning to his corner.
But he wasn't done watching her.
With that, she gave a respectful nod to Redmoon. "If you'll excuse me… I believe I'm expected elsewhere."
"Of course," Ragnar said with a wry smile. "But don't keep us waiting too long."
Marra appeared at Nova's side, ever-attentive. Cael moved to flank her silently.
As Nova turned to leave, the room—once filled with murmurs and skepticism—remained respectfully silent. Even those who had doubted her now stepped aside as she passed, the faint brush of her cloak trailing behind her.
Rex stood still as stone in the corner, his hands clenched behind his back, breathing deep.
She didn't see the way his jaw tightened… or the way his wolf whispered again in his head like a prayer.
Outside, the cold wind welcomed her like an old friend.
Nova exhaled slowly, pulling the hood of her cloak up over her silver-blonde hair, hiding the flush in her cheeks.
And without another word, the Queen of the North disappeared back into the shadows of camp—leaving the war tent whispering in her wake.