Moonfall prepared for war.
But Evelyn could feel it in the air—something older than packs, older than Bloodmoon, older than wolves themselves.
The shadows were… listening.
Every torch flickered when she walked past. Every darkened corner felt aware.Not hostile.Not welcoming.Just… watching.
By dawn, the packhouse buzzed like a hive. Warriors shifted into armor. Scouts darted in and out of the war room. The scent of fear and determination thickened the air.
But Evelyn couldn't rest.
Sleep wouldn't come.Not after everything.Not with the mark on her shoulder pulsing like a second heartbeat.
Ronan found her standing on the balcony overlooking Moonfall's forest, dawn bleeding faint gold across the trees.
"You haven't slept," he murmured.
She didn't turn. "Neither have you."
He stepped behind her, arms sliding around her waist, pulling her gently back against him.
She let herself lean into his warmth—just for a moment.
"It's getting stronger," she whispered.
"What is?"
She lifted her hand.
Shadows curled lazily around her fingers… like smoke drawn to flame.
Ronan stiffened—then exhaled slowly, leaning his forehead against her shoulder.
"Does it hurt?"
"No."She swallowed."But it feels like something is waiting. Like I'm supposed to… answer."
Ronan's grip tightened.
"You don't answer anything unless you choose to."
Her voice trembled.
"What if choosing wrong hurts the pack?"
He turned her gently to face him.
"Evie. Look at me."
She did.
His eyes were raw with honesty.
"You existing does not endanger this pack." A pause. "Warriors exist to protect. Elders exist to advise. Alphas exist to lead. And you—"
He brushed her cheek, slow and reverent.
"—exist to decide your own fate."
Her breath hitched.
Not because of his words.
But because suddenly—
Everything went silent.
The breeze froze.Birdsong stopped.Even Ronan's heartbeat slowed in her ears.
A voice whispered behind her mind.
Evelyn…
She staggered.
Ronan caught her instantly. "Evie?"
But she didn't hear him.
The voice grew clearer—ancient, layered, echoing like a thousand whispers speaking in unison.
Shadowborn. Your blood remembers. Your power wakes. Come to me.
Her vision blurred—colors dripping like ink—until she saw a vast, blackened plain under a bleeding moon.
A throne.
A silhouette.
Eyes shaped from starlight and void.
The Shadow Father.
The being who marked her.
He rose slowly from the darkness.
Daughter of dusk… the world demands your choice. Come claim the truth they fear.
"Stop," she whispered, shaking. "Not now—not—"
Come.
The plain shattered.
She gasped violently as reality crashed back.
Ronan's hands framed her face, eyes burning with fear and fury.
"Evie—Evelyn—what happened?"
Her voice barely escaped.
"He… he called me."
Ronan's wolf surged beneath his skin, sharp and feral.
"Shadow Father?" he growled.
She nodded.
Ronan pulled her fully into his arms, holding her like he could shield her from a god.
"He doesn't get to summon you like you're his," he snarled against her hair. "He doesn't get to speak into your mind. He doesn't get anything from you."
She trembled.
"It felt like… like part of me wanted to go."
Ronan froze.
Every muscle in his body locked.
But he didn't pull away.
He didn't flinch.
Instead, he cupped her head gently.
"Evie," he whispered. "Listen to me. You're fighting something no one else could survive. If part of you feels that pull… it just means the power in your blood recognizes its source."He pressed his forehead to hers."But it doesn't define you."
Her breathing steadied slowly.
He didn't judge her.Didn't fear her.Didn't question her loyalty.
He just stayed.
"Ronan…" she whispered, voice trembling. "I think the Shadow Father is coming here."
He stiffened.
"Here?"
"Yes. Soon."She swallowed."And I don't think Bloodmoon knows what he really is. They think they're marching for a weapon."Her eyes lifted to his."They don't know they're marching into a god's war."
Ronan exhaled slowly, like someone preparing to walk into fire.
"Then we protect you first," he said. "Moonfall second. Everything else after."
Her heart squeezed painfully.
"Ronan—"
"No," he said firmly. "You are not a burden. You are not a prophecy bomb about to explode. You are Evelyn. My—"
He cut himself off.
But the word hung between them.
Evelyn.
Mine.
Her cheeks flushed.
She lifted a trembling hand to his chest.
His heartbeat thundered beneath her palm.
"Ronan," she whispered. "What if choosing my power means losing you?"
His breath caught.
Then he took her hand, pressed it over his heart, and held it there.
"Then I'll just fight harder," he said simply.
For a moment, the world felt still.
Safe.
Until a horn blared outside—long, low, trembling the walls.
Ronan's head snapped toward the balcony.
Ash came sprinting through the hall.
"Alpha!" he yelled. "Bloodmoon's forces have been sighted. A full battalion. They'll reach the border in less than an hour."
Evelyn's stomach dropped.
Ronan's wolf surged fully now—dangerous, dominant, ready for war.
He pulled her close one last time.
"Stay near me," he growled. "No matter what happens."
But even as he said it—
Evelyn felt the shadows curl around her ankles.
Calling.
Whispering.
Pulling.
Because war was coming.
Bloodmoon was coming.
And the Shadow Father…
Was almost here.