Moonfall did not sleep.
Not after the warning.Not after the wards fell.Not after the word war sliced through the packhouse like a blade.
Ronan didn't release Evelyn's hand—not even when warriors flooded the halls, not when orders barked through the corridors, not when fear began to thrum beneath the floorboards.
He kept her close.Close enough to touch.Close enough to scent.
Close enough to protect.
Even though every part of her felt like a storm barely held inside skin.
Ash walked beside them, tense and pale.
"The scouts checked the perimeter twice," he said quietly. "Something tore through the wards from the outside. Something… not human."
Ronan didn't respond.
His jaw was locked so tightly the muscles trembled.
Evelyn felt the pressure of his hand—warm, grounding—but her mind replayed the scout's words on a loop.
The Shadowborn will return to Bloodmoon willingly… or everything burns.
It wasn't a threat.
It was a promise.
A prophecy's echo.
She tried to steady her breathing, but the mark on her shoulder pulsed like a heartbeat inside a wound.
Ronan noticed instantly.
"Evie."His voice softened. "Tell me what you're feeling."
She hesitated. She didn't want to scare him. She didn't want to remind him of the part of her he couldn't fight with claws or territory.
But lying felt worse.
"It's like… something is calling me," she whispered. "Not words. Just pressure. Pulling."
Ronan's grip tightened like steel.
"You're not answering anything," he said, voice darkening. "Not Bloodmoon. Not shadows. Not ancient nightmares that think they own you."
Ash cleared his throat. "Alpha… there's more."
Ronan's head snapped up. "What?"
"The scout said Bloodmoon is moving before dawn. They're marching with nearly their entire warrior caste. He claims their alpha is convinced Evelyn's awakening will tip the balance of the prophecy."
Evelyn froze.
"My awakening?"
Ash nodded reluctantly."Shadowborn power resurfacing after generations… it's a sign. One Bloodmoon desperately wants."
Ronan's aura flared so violently the torches along the hallway gutters flickered.
"They want her," he said, voice a razor. "That's the mistake they'll die for."
Evelyn stepped in front of him before his wolf surged further.
"Ronan," she whispered. "Please. Breathe."
His chest heaved once… twice… then slowly eased. Enough for the man to return over the beast.
He brushed his thumb across her knuckles.
"They want to use you," he murmured. "As a weapon. As a prophecy piece. As a key to someone else's throne."
A chill crawled down her spine.
"What if… what if they're right?" she whispered. "What if I'm the reason this war is happening?"
Ronan cupped her face gently, firmly.
"No. War happens because tyrants want power. Because cowards misunderstand strength. Because some alphas think fear is leadership."His gaze burned with truth."You didn't start this. But you might end it."
Her breath trembled.
"End it how?"
"That's the part we figure out." His voice softened. "Together."
Together.The word wrapped around her like a shield.
But something inside her twisted painfully.
Shadowborn.Prophecy.War.
She was pulling Moonfall into a storm they weren't prepared for.
And yet—
Ronan never looked at her with hesitation.Never with fear.Just protectiveness so fierce it felt like a vow etched into his bones.
Ash glanced at them as they reached the strategy room.
"Alpha… the elders are waiting."
Ronan's jaw worked. "Good. They'll listen."
Evelyn paused at the threshold.
The room beyond buzzed with tension—maps covering the table, warriors lining the walls, elders whispering in harsh tones.
Their eyes snapped to her instantly.
Not hostile.Not welcoming.Just wary.
As if she were both a child and a ticking weapon.
Ronan moved beside her, his presence lethal.
"Anyone who looks at her like that," he said quietly, "answers to me."
The elders looked away quickly.
Evelyn swallowed hard as they stepped inside.
The eldest among them, Nira, bowed her head slightly.
"We received Bloodmoon's message," she said. "They demand the girl. Or they promise devastation."
Ronan stepped forward.
"She's not a bargaining chip."
"She may be the only way to avoid war," another elder said.
Ronan growled so low the air vibrated.
Evelyn lifted a hand.
"Let me speak," she whispered.
Ronan's wolf surged in protest, but he nodded, jaw tight.
Evelyn stepped forward, the weight of a prophecy pressing down on her shoulders.
"I know what I am," she said quietly. "I know the shadows want me. I know Bloodmoon wants to control whatever power is waking inside me."
The room fell silent.
"But I'm not leaving Moonfall. And I'm not being handed over like some offering."
Ronan stared at her with something like awe.
Evelyn continued, voice steady despite her racing heart:
"I will learn what I am. I will control it. And I will fight with this pack, not against it."
Murmurs rippled around the table.
Nira nodded slowly. "Then we prepare for war."
Evelyn exhaled shakily.
War.
Real war.
Ronan stepped behind her, his hands resting on her shoulders—warm, strong, anchoring her to the earth.
"Evie," he murmured near her ear. "There's one more thing you need to know."
She turned slightly.
"What?"
His eyes were fierce. Steady.
"If Bloodmoon thinks they're coming for you…"He leaned closer, voice dropping to a vow that sent a shiver down her spine."…then they're not ready for what I'll become."
Evelyn's heart pounded.
Because she believed him.
Because she felt it too.
This wasn't just war.
It was the beginning of the end.
The prophecy was waking.The Shadowborn was rising.
And Evelyn—
Was standing at the center of a storm that could drown kingdoms.
But not alone.
Never alone.
Not while Ronan still breathed.