They came at dusk.
Elara felt them before she saw them—presences at the edge of the wards, hesitant, questioning, hopeful. Through the magic that now flowed in her veins, she sensed their uncertainty, their ancient loyalty, their desperate need to believe.
"Someone's approaching." She turned from the window. "Many someones."
Kael was on his feet instantly, hand on his sword. "Friend or foe?"
"I don't know. The wards are confused—they sense old oaths, old loyalties, but also fear. Caution." She closed her eyes, reaching through the magic. "They're waiting. Asking permission to enter."
Morwenna's ancient voice came from the doorway. "The loyalist packs. They've come."
Elara's heart leaped. "How many?"
"I don't know. But the spirits carried the messages far and wide. Any who remembered—any who still honored the old oaths—would have heard." Morwenna's eyes glistened. "Go to them, child. Welcome them home."
Elara looked at Kael. He nodded once.
Together, they walked to the palace gates.
---
The mist parted to reveal a crowd.
Not an army—not yet. But dozens of wolves in human form, ranging from elders with centuries of memory to young pups barely old enough to shift. They stood at the edge of the ward's influence, watching the palace with expressions of awe and hope and barely contained grief.
At their head stood a woman Elara's age, with copper hair and eyes the color of autumn leaves. She stepped forward as Elara appeared, dropping to one knee.
"Your Highness." Her voice carried across the silence. "The Autumn Creek Pack remembers. We swore loyalty to the Silver Crown fifteen generations ago. We have not forgotten."
Behind her, the others knelt.
Dozens of wolves, dropping to their knees in the mist, heads bowed in reverence.
Elara's breath caught. Tears burned her eyes.
"Please." Her voice shook. "Please rise. I—I don't know how to be what you need yet. But I'm grateful. So grateful you came."
The copper-haired woman rose, meeting Elara's eyes. "My name is Sera. My grandmother told me stories of the Silver Palace. Of the queens who ruled with wisdom and strength. I never thought I'd live to see it restored." She glanced at the others. "We're not many. But we're yours. Whatever you need."
Whatever you need.
Elara looked at Kael. He squeezed her hand.
"Then come," she said. "Come inside. Rest. Eat. And tomorrow—" She looked toward the rising moon. "Tomorrow, we prepare for war."
---
They came in waves through the night.
Small packs from distant territories. Lone wolves who'd carried the old stories in their hearts for decades. Families who'd hidden their loyalty for generations, waiting for a sign that the Crown would rise again.
By dawn, nearly two hundred wolves had gathered in the palace courtyard.
Elara walked among them, Kael at her side, learning names and faces and stories. Each wolf had a tale—a grandmother who'd served, a grandfather who'd fought, a family heirloom passed down through centuries as proof of ancient loyalty.
"This is more than I hoped," Morwenna murmured as they watched the crowd settle. "The old blood runs deep."
"But will it be enough?" Elara asked quietly. "Against the master's army?"
Morwenna's ancient eyes were honest. "I don't know. But it's a start. And sometimes, a start is all you need."
---
Midday brought more than wolves.
Cassian and Lyra stumbled out of the mist, wounded but alive, supported by wolves Elara didn't recognize. She ran to them, Kael right behind her.
"Cassian—Lyra—" She reached them, hands fluttering, not knowing where to touch. "You're alive. You're alive."
Cassian managed a bloody grin. "Takes more than a few hounds to kill us." He looked at Kael. "Alpha. Good to see you in one piece."
Kael gripped his arm. "The hounds?"
"Dead. All of them." Lyra's voice was rough with exhaustion. "But there were more behind them. An army, Cassian. Thousands. Moving through the forest like a tide."
Thousands.
Elara's blood chilled.
Kael's jaw tightened. "How close?"
"Two days. Maybe less." Cassian's eyes found Elara. "They're coming for her. The master's leading them himself."
Two days. But the Blood Moon was tonight. By the time the army arrived, Elara would have broken her seal—would have become what she was meant to be.
If she survived the breaking.
"Get them inside." Morwenna's voice was brisk. "Food, rest, healing. We'll need every warrior we have."
As the others moved, Elara caught Cassian's arm. "The pack. Blackthorn. What happened after we left?"
Cassian's face darkened. "Marlena seized control. Declared Kael a traitor, you a witch, the rest of us fools for following." He shook his head. "Half the pack believes her. The other half is too scared to fight."
Marlena. Elara should have known the elder would use the chaos to seize power.
Kael's voice was cold. "When this is over, I'll deal with Marlena."
"First we survive tonight," Elara said quietly. "Then we worry about the rest."
---
As the sun began to set, Elara stood before the silver throne.
Morwenna had explained the ritual. When the Blood Moon rose, Elara would sit on the throne and open herself to the power. The seal would break. Her wolf would emerge. And if Kael's worthiness held—if his love anchored her—she would survive.
If not...
She didn't think about if not.
Kael found her there, staring at the throne that would soon decide her fate.
"Scared?" he asked quietly.
"Terrified." She didn't pretend otherwise. Not with him.
"Good. Fear keeps you sharp." He stood beside her, looking at the throne. "But you're ready. I know you are."
"How do you know?"
He turned to face her. "Because I've watched you survive everything this world has thrown at you. Rejection. Isolation. Attacks. Betrayal. You're still standing. Still fighting. Still hoping." He touched her face. "That's not luck, Elara. That's strength. That's who you are."
She leaned into his touch. "And if the breaking kills me anyway?"
"Then I'll follow you into whatever comes next." His voice was steady. Certain. "I'm not living in a world without you."
"Kael—"
"I mean it." He pulled her close. "You're my mate. My home. My everything. If you go, I go. That's not a threat. It's just... truth."
Elara buried her face in his chest, tears soaking his shirt.
Please, she prayed to the Moon, to her mother, to whatever forces governed the universe. Please let me survive. Please let me stay with him.
The marks on her arms pulsed. Warm. Encouraging.
Almost time, her wolf whispered. Almost free.
Together.
---
The Blood Moon rose.
Elara sat on the silver throne as the first crimson light spilled through the open ceiling. Below her, the great hall filled with wolves—loyalists who'd come to witness, to protect, to hope.
Kael stood at the foot of the throne, close enough to touch. His silver eyes never left her face.
Morwenna's voice rose in ancient chant. Words Elara didn't know but somehow understood. The language of the old magic, of the blood, of the Crown.
The marks on her body began to burn.
Not painfully—not exactly. But intensely, like every nerve in her body was waking up at once. Silver light poured from her skin, filling the hall, touching every wolf present.
Gasps. Whispers. Awe.
Elara's vision blurred.
And then the wolf emerged.
---
It wasn't like the stories she'd heard. Not a painful shift, not a tearing of flesh and bone. It was more like... becoming. Like stepping into a form that had always been waiting for her.
One moment, she was Elara—human, frightened, hopeful.
The next, she was silver.
Fur like moonlight. Eyes like stars. A crown of light between her ears that marked her as royalty beyond question. She stood on four legs where moments before she'd had two, and everything—everything—made sense.
This is me, she realized. This is who I've always been.
Below her, the wolves in the hall began to kneel.
Not commanded. Not forced. Simply responding to the presence of their queen. Even the ones who'd never seen a Silver wolf, who'd only heard stories—they knelt. Because something in their blood recognized something in hers.
All except Kael.
He stood at the foot of the throne, silver eyes blazing with pride and love and something that looked almost like worship.
Beautiful, he thought through the bond. You're so beautiful.
I'm a wolf, she thought back, surprised by the laughter in her own mental voice.
You're my wolf. And you're perfect.
She descended from the throne—four paws, then two feet, shifting back to human form with the same ease she'd shifted out of it. Naked, unashamed, alive.
Kael wrapped her in the cloak he'd brought for exactly this moment. Pulled her close.
"You did it." His voice shook. "You survived."
We did it." She looked up at him. "You anchored me. Your love held me together."
Around them, the hall erupted in cheers.
The Silver heir had awakened.
The queen had come home.
And somewhere in the darkness beyond the wards, an army marched toward its doom.
---
End of Chapter 18🐺