The scent of fear and iron was carried over the mountain by the wind.
Rosa stood at the edge of Lunar's ruins, the world around her still trembling from what she had done. Trees bowed where her power had touched them, and the earth was scarred with streaks of silver light that refused to fade.
The pack moved quickly, gathering survivors and sealing wounds with urgent precision. Marshal's voice cut through the noise—calm, commanding, impossible to ignore.
"Take her to the Moonkeep," he commanded. "No one leaves her unguarded."
Rosa turned to him, still pale, her body shaking with exhaustion. "The Moonkeep? That's the fortress in the mountains. Why would you take me there?"
Marshal met her gaze, his expression unreadable. "Because war has found us, Rosa. And that's where we prepare to survive it."
She wanted to protest, to tell him she wasn't some relic to be hidden away, but the look in his eyes silenced her. Beneath the Alpha's calm was something else—fear, not for himself, but for her.
The journey to the Moonkeep began before dawn. The pack moved in silent formation, a seamless machine of strength and order. Scouts ran ahead, their forms shifting effortlessly between wolf and human. Warriors flanked the group, their eyes scanning the forest edges.
Elders chanted softly as they walked, old words that felt like armor against unseen threats. Rosa watched in awe, realizing for the first time how much discipline lived within this wildness.
Marshal rode beside her, his hand resting on the hilt of his blade. The tension between them pulsed with every step.
"You command them like soldiers," she murmured.
He glanced at her. "They are more than soldiers. They are family. And family survives by obeying the Alpha."
"Do they obey because they trust you," she asked quietly, "or because they fear you?"
His lips curled into something not quite a smile. "Both. Trust keeps them loyal. Fear keeps them alive."
Her chest constricted. There was something tragic, something noble in the way he said it, as if he had long acknowledged the loneliness that came with power.
As the forest thickened, Rosa felt the prickle of unseen eyes watching them. The hair along her arms rose.
"Marshal," she whispered, "we're being followed."
He stiffened at once, his senses sharpened. "Where?"
She nodded toward the thick shadows to their left. "It's not wolf scent. It's colder."
He didn't hesitate. "Everyone halt!"
At once, the pack froze, arms with weapons abruptly still, ears cocked toward the gloom. The forest held its breath.
Then came the sound—a low, distorted growl that didn't belong to any living creature. It slithered through the trees, wrong in every sense. Rosa's pulse spiked. Marshal moved in front of her, his body lowering as bones shifted beneath his skin.
She had seen wolves shift before, but this was different. His transformation stopped midway—his eyes gleamed gold, claws slid from his fingers, and the lines of his face sharpened until he looked like something both man and beast. Terrifying, beautiful, and utterly otherworldly.
"Stay behind me," he warned.
Rosa's breath caught. "Marshal… what are you?"
His voice was raw now, nearly inhuman. "Half-shift. Enough to fight. Not enough to lose control."
Before she could answer, the shadows moved. Figures burst from the treeline: creatures shaped like wolves, but wrong in every detail. Their eyes burned red; their bodies shifted constantly in motion, smoke and flesh intertwined.
"Shadow-born!" one of the warriors shouted.
The pack exploded into movement. Claws clashed with claws, steel against shadow. The clearing became a vortex of motion and sound, snarls and roars shaking the air. Rosa backed away, her heart hammering. Every instinct yelled at her to run, yet something deeper told her she couldn't.
Then one of the creatures broke through the line and came for her. Its jaw opened, dripping darkness instead of blood.
"Rosa!" Marshal's voice ripped through the chaos as he lunged, but he was too far.
The creature leaped-,
and something inside her snapped.
Light exploded from her chest, silver and blue intertwining like fire and water. The ground split open beneath her feet, the shockwave tearing through the forest as if from the eye of a storm. Trees bent. Shadows screamed. Everything alive caught in its wake burst into dust.
Silence fell when the light faded.
Rosa dropped to her knees, her body shuddering. The ground smoked where she had stood. Around her, the pack stared in stunned awe, their eyes wide with fear and reverence.
Marshal was the only one to stir. He moved closer to her with slow, deliberate steps, his hybrid form dissolving back into human as his eyes stared at her as if he were witnessing a miracle and an omen at the same time.
"Rosa," he said softly, "look at me."
She lifted her head, with tears streaking her cheeks. "I didn't mean to—"
He hunched down in front of her, grasping for her hand. "You didn't cause it, you became it."
Her lip trembled. "I hurt them. I could have hurt you."
He shook his head, his thumb brushing her knuckles. "You are becoming what the old ones feared. The storm that cannot be contained."
His words should have scared her, but there was something in his tone-something akin to pride, to wonder-that steadied her shaking heart.
"I don't want to be a weapon," she whispered.
"Then be something stronger," he said. "Be the reason this war ends."
The pack started to gather themselves again, silent and wary. None of them dared come closer than a few steps, their eyes darting between .
Rosa and the scorch marks that glowed faintly at her feet. She could feel the distance widening, the invisible barrier her power had created.
Marshal rose, his voice calm but commanding. "We move now. The Moonkeep is close. And she travels under my protection."
No one argued.
Rosa wanted to thank him, but before words could come out, a whisper slid into her mind-cold, smooth, and intimate.
You cannot hide from me, Moonborn.
She gasped, clutching her head. Marshal caught her before she fell, his arm firm around her shoulders.
"Rosa! What is it?"
The voice, louder now, was silk over steel. Your power belongs to me.
Her vision darkened. The last thing she saw was Marshal's face hovering over her, his eyes burning with something fierce and helpless. "Stay with me," he said. "Do not let him in." But in she was already falling into the dark, the echo of that voice following her down.
Mine.