Aria's POV
"Grandmother!" I shake her shoulders frantically. "Wake up! Please wake up!"
Her chest barely moves. Each breath sounds like it's being dragged through broken glass.
"Aria, her pulse is getting weaker," Kira says, her fingers pressed to Grandmother's wrist. "We need the pack doctor. Now."
"Dr. Simmons is dealing with fifty dying wolves back at the Grand Hall." I press my glowing hands to Grandmother's chest, trying to do what I did with Kira. Trying to pull the curse back out. "Come on, come on—"
Nothing happens.
The silver light pours from my hands into Grandmother's body, but it doesn't reverse like it did with Kira. Instead, it just... sits there. Glowing under her skin like she swallowed a star.
"Why isn't it working?" I scream at the magic. "Fix her!"
"Aria." Grandmother's eyes open again, just a crack. "Stop. You're making it worse."
"I don't care! I'm not letting you die!"
"Everyone dies, little moon." She coughs, more blood on her lips. "But before I go, you need to know the whole truth."
"I know the truth. The pack murdered our family. They stole our magic. The curse is punishment." My voice breaks. "What else is there?"
"Why they killed us." Grandmother's hand finds mine, squeezing with surprising strength. "And what you really are."
The front door crashes open.
Thorne stands in the doorway, breathing hard like he ran the whole way here. His ice-blue eyes find me immediately, taking in my glowing hands, Grandmother dying on the floor, the destruction visible through the windows behind him.
"Get out," I snarl.
"I need to talk to you—"
"GET OUT!"
The floor cracks between us. The walls shake. A vase on the shelf explodes into dust.
Thorne raises his hands slowly, like I'm a dangerous animal. "Aria, please. Just listen—"
"Listen to what? More lies? More excuses?" I stand up, and the silver light blazes brighter. "You rejected me. You chose her. Now my grandmother is dying, and it's all because of YOU!"
"I know." His voice cracks. "I know it's my fault. I know I destroyed everything. But right now, fifty-three wolves are dying back at the Grand Hall. Children, Aria. There are children collapsing—"
"I don't care about them!" The words explode from me, shocking even myself. "They watched you humiliate me! They celebrated! Why should I save people who hate me?"
"Because you're better than us," Thorne says quietly. "You've always been better than all of us."
The sincerity in his voice almost breaks through my anger. Almost.
"Let him speak," Grandmother whispers behind me. "He needs to understand what he's done. What he's become part of."
I want to refuse. Want to throw him out. But Grandmother asked, and I can't deny her anything right now.
"Fine. Talk." I cross my arms. "You have two minutes."
Thorne steps carefully over the crack in the floor. He looks terrible—hair messy, shirt untucked, shadows under his eyes like he hasn't slept in days. Good. He should suffer.
"Magnus told me everything after you left," he starts. "About the massacre. The stolen magic. The protection curse your ancestors created." He swallows hard. "My great-grandfather was one of the wolves who killed your family."
The room spins. "What?"
"The Blackwoods led the coup seventy years ago. We took the biggest share of the Moonshadow power. That's why we've been the ruling Alpha family ever since." His hands clench into fists. "I've been living on stolen magic my whole life, and I didn't even know it."
Grandmother makes a sound—half laugh, half sob. "Now you understand, Alpha. Your strength, your pack's power, your family's legacy—all built on our blood."
"Why didn't you tell me?" I ask Grandmother, betrayal sharp in my chest. "Why did you let me think I was cursed? Why did you let me suffer?"
"To keep you alive," she gasps. "If they knew you carried the original magic, they would have killed you as a baby. I made you invisible. Powerless. Safe." Tears leak down her wrinkled cheeks. "I thought if you never awakened the magic, maybe the curse would never trigger. Maybe you could live a normal life."
"But he rejected me." I look at Thorne with all the hatred burning inside me. "And normal life became impossible."
Thorne flinches like I slapped him. "I'm sorry. God, Aria, I'm so sorry—"
"Sorry doesn't fix this!" I gesture at the dying forest outside, at the blood moon hanging overhead, at my grandmother barely breathing on the floor. "Sorry doesn't bring back the people already dead!"
"I know. But—"
A scream cuts him off.
We all freeze.
It came from outside. Close. Too close.
Kira runs to the window and gasps. "Aria. You need to see this."
I join her, and my blood runs cold.
The forest around the cottage is filled with wolves. Dozens of them. Maybe a hundred. Some carry torches. Others carry weapons. They form a circle around us, blocking every escape route.
At the front stands Beta Raymond, Selene's father. Even from here, I can see the black veins spreading across his face—the curse eating him alive. But he's still standing. Still commanding.
"ARIA MOONSHADOW!" His voice booms through the night. "Come out and face justice for what you've done!"
"Justice?" I laugh bitterly. "They want to talk about justice?"
"They're scared," Thorne says, moving beside me. "Scared people do terrible things."
"Then they'll fit right in with their ancestors."
More voices join Raymond's chant. "Cursed girl! Witch! Murderer!"
The mob starts moving closer. Some look sick, stumbling. Others look furious, ready for violence.
"Aria," Grandmother calls weakly. "Come here. Now."
I kneel beside her again. She's getting worse—her skin is almost transparent now, veins black beneath the surface.
"You have to choose soon," she whispers. "But first, you need to know one more thing. The most important thing."
"What?"
She grabs my hand with surprising force, pulling me close until her lips are by my ear.
"The curse has three endings, not two. Magnus was wrong. There's a third option, but it requires a sacrifice so terrible—"
Her body convulsses.
Blood pours from her mouth.
And with her last breath, she whispers something that changes everything.
Something impossible.
Something that makes my choice both easier and infinitely harder.
Then her hand goes limp.
Her eyes glaze over.
Grandmother Celia—the last Moonshadow elder, my protector, my family—dies in my arms.
And the blood moon above us explodes with light so bright it turns night into day.