The night air was thick with the musk of the pack still lingering from the council. Wolves poured from the Blood Moon Hall in scattered clusters, their whispers cutting through Keona's ears. She kept her head down, Nyra pressed protectively at her side, her friend's arm hooked firm through hers.
"Don't listen to them," Nyra muttered, glaring openly at any who dared to sneer. "They lap up Selene's poison like starving pups. Let them gag on it."
Keona gave the faintest nod, though her chest felt hollow. She could still hear Selene's voice echoing in her skull: 'Those who cannot even claim their wolf have no place beside the throne.'
They had gotten to the winding path down from the hall that led to the courtyard when the air shifted. The forest surrounding the stronghold suddenly stilled, the night insects silenced, the usual scent of pine and damp earth overwhelmed by something acrid—rotting fur and iron tang.
Nyra froze, her hand tightening on Keona's arm. "Do you smell that?"
The answer came before Keona could speak. From the treeline, hulking shapes moved—massive wolves, their pelts mangy and matted with rot, eyes glowing with sickly green fire. Their jaws hung open unnaturally wide, saliva dripping like tar. A low, unnatural growl rolled from their throats, layered, echoing like a dozen voices caught in one body.
"Moon above…" Nyra frowned and hissed. "Dreadwolves."
Keona stumbled back a step, her pulse hammering. She had heard tales as a child—wolves who had died, their bodies stolen by dark magic and twisted into something monstrous. But she had never thought they were real.
There were five of them, fanning out to block the path. Their attention locked on her instantly, as though Nyra wasn't even there.
"They're after me," Keona whispered, horror seizing her throat.
Nyra bared her teeth, shoving Keona behind her. "Then they'll have to rip through me first." Her body quivered, bones snapping, muscles stretching, fur bursting along her limbs as she shifted. In seconds, Nyra stood as a wolf of mottled gray and silver streaks, eyes blazing with fury.
The Dreadwolves lunged.
Nyra met the first head-on, their bodies colliding in a tangle of fur and teeth. Keona screamed her friend's name, backing away until her heel hit a root and nearly sent her sprawling. The ground vibrated as claws gouged the earth.
Another Dreadwolf circled her, it's breath foul enough to make her gag. Keona scrambled backward, pressing herself against the trunk of a tree, arms raised though she knew it was useless.
Then the forest erupted with another growl—deep, commanding, powerful. A massive wolf burst from the opposite side of the clearing, its dark mane catching the moonlight like black fire. Brown fur bristled over broad shoulders, towering and terrible.
Darius.
The Ironcrest Alpha crashed into the flank of one of the Dreadwolves, teeth sinking into decayed flesh. The beast shrieked—a horrifying sound like wind through broken bone—but even wounded, it kept thrashing, claws tearing furrows through Darius's hide. He ripped it away from Keona, positioning himself between her and the swarm.
"Stay down!" His voice echoed through their link, his wolf's mind-voice deep and commanding.
Keona pressed against the tree, heart slamming. She had never seen wolves fight like this. Nyra darted and spun, slashing at undead throats, but each time she tore them open, they only snarled and kept coming. Darius fought with brutal precision, muscles coiled, his fur gleaming under the moonlight. But even he seemed strained.
"These things don't die!" Nyra barked, snapping the spine of one that simply writhed and reassembled. "It's like they're not even real!"
Keona could only watch, frozen. Every instinct screamed to run, but her legs wouldn't move. The Dreadwolves weren't even focused on Nyra or Darius. Their glowing eyes always flicked back to her.
One broke through their defense and charged directly at her. Keona shrieked, falling backwards while throwing her arms up—
—and silver light burst from her body.
It was blinding, rippling outward like a wave of moonlight. The Dreadwolf slammed into it and was hurled back, its body convulsing as silvery fire crawled across its rotting hide. It shrieked, the green light in its eyes flickering wildly before it collapsed into ash.
The battlefield froze. Even Nyra stumbled back, her wolf's eyes wide.
"Keona…" Nyra whispered through the link, breathless. "What in the goddess's name was that?"
But the Dreadwolves roared in unison, enraged, relentless. They came harder, faster, as if the death of one had only whetted their hunger.
"Get up!" Darius's wolf snarled at Keona, blood and smoke dripping from his jaws. "Whatever you just did—do it again!"
"I—I don't know how!" Keona cried, panic clawing her throat. Her hands trembled, her chest burning, but the light had vanished as suddenly as it had come. She could feel it inside her, caged, but she didn't know how to release it.
Nyra leapt onto a Dreadwolf's back, tearing at it's neck. Darius barreled into another, his massive form a blur of strength and fury. But still, they kept rising again and again.
One lunged past them both and slammed into Keona. She hit the ground hard, air exploding from her lungs. Its rancid jaws opened inches from her throat—
"NO!" she screamed, tears streaking her face.
The light burst again. This time it wasn't just a flash. A column of silvery flame erupted from her body, searing the Dreadwolf where it stood. It's form disintegrated, the green fire snuffed out like a candle. The blast carried outward, scorching the grass, forcing the other Dreadwolves to stagger back with unnatural howls.
Nyra landed beside her in wolf form, snarling fiercely at the remaining creatures. Darius dragged one off by it's throat, flinging its carcass into a tree, where it dissolved under the fading silver fire still clinging to the air.
The last two snarled, pacing at the edge of the clearing, then retreated into the shadows, their glowing eyes burning like embers until they vanished completely.
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Keona lay panting on the ground, her palms glowing faintly with silver embers that slowly faded. She was trembling so violently she thought her bones might shatter.
Nyra shifted back into human form, naked but unflinching as she crouched beside her. "Keona… you—" She looked around at the ash-streaked ground where three Dreadwolves had perished. "You destroyed them. That was you."
Keona shook her head desperately. "I don't—I don't know what happened. I couldn't stop it."
Darius shifted back as well, his towering human form bloodied but still brimming with power. His eyes fixed on her, sharp and calculating. "No ordinary wolf can kill a Dreadwolf. Not even me."
His gaze softened, almost reverent. "But you did. Twice."
Keona's breath hitched. She wanted to deny it, to curl into herself and vanish, but the ash on the ground was proof.
Darius crouched low, his face level with hers. "You are not what they think you are, Keona Stormfang. You are something far more powerful and there's nothing weak about you."
Nyra shot him a glare, protective as always. "Back off, Dravenmoor. She doesn't need your games."
But Darius didn't flinch. His voice was quiet, meant for Keona alone.
"Remember this: the Black Mane Howlers will never accept what they don't understand. But in Ironcrest… in my pack… You would be revered."
Keona's throat tightened. She couldn't find the words.
Nyra's hand gripped her shoulder firmly. "Don't listen to him. We'll figure this out ourselves. You're not alone."
Darius stood, towering over them both. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes lingered on Keona with a hunger that wasn't just predatory—it was the gaze of someone who saw value where others saw weakness.
"Think on it," he said simply, before shifting back into his wolf and vanishing into the trees.
Keona sat trembling in the dirt, the scent of ash heavy around her, the moonlight painting her skin with silver. For the first time, she was terrified not of what Selene might do to her—but of herself.
Nyra pulled her into a fierce embrace, whispering, "You're stronger than you know. That light wasn't a curse—it's who you are."
But Keona's eyes stared into the darkness where the Dreadwolves had fled, her chest aching with dread.
Because she knew deep down—this was only the beginning.