Skyblood wore grief like a shroud.
The once-bustling courtyards, usually alive with warriors sparring and pups chasing each other between the marble pillars, fell silent. Banners hung at half-mast. The fountains that always sparkled with enchanted silver waters ran dry, their still basins reflecting only the grayness of mourning skies.
Every wolf, from the lowest omega to the oldest elder, lowered their head whenever they passed the Moon Garden. That was where Aria's memorial flame still burned, flickering with the soft, pale lavender glow only a life tied to prophecy could leave behind.
Aria's death was not just a loss; it was a wound carved into the kingdom's very soul.
But the deepest wound belonged to Kael.
He barricaded himself inside the Shadowing Tower, the tallest and darkest spire of the palace—its stone older than the kingdom itself. Legends whispered it was built to house kings who lost too much and needed walls strong enough to hold their grief.
Days bled into nights as Kael sat motionless in the center of his chamber, the windows sealed shut and the room lit only by dim, flickering torches. In his hands lay the blood-stained cloak Aria had worn that night.
Her scent clung to it still.
Her last words.
Her last scream.
Her last breath.
His fingers tightened until the fabric tore.
Rokhan snarled in his chest.
The wolf blamed him.
The man blamed himself.
Together, they drowned in silence.
GARRON'S VISIT
Heavy footsteps climbed the winding staircase outside, slow, determined, and far too familiar.
Garron.
He had been coming every morning and night without fail. The first few days he used patience. Then reason. Then anger. Today… goddess knew.
He slammed his fist against the thick ironwood door.
"Kael! Enough. You must come out. The pack needs you."
Silence.
Garron leaned his forehead against the door, voice rougher this time.
"Your people are breaking. They look to the king for strength, and all they see is a locked door."
Inside, Kael barely breathed.
"I do not deserve them," he whispered. The words felt like glass as they slipped out.
Kael closed his eyes.
The Coucil in Turmoil
While Kael rotted in his grief, the palace struggled to function.
In the throne hall, some High Council members gathered in frantic whispers.
Elder Sarin wrung his aged hands. "Three scouts gone missing near the northern Ridge. We cannot ignore these signs."
Thorian, the gamma commander, shook his head. "Without the king's command, we cannot mobilize battalions."
Elder Sarin rubbed his temples with both hands. "If he stays hidden much longer, the wolves will lose faith. We cannot fight the Shadows with a king who refuses to be one."
The room fell into heavy silence.
Ronin swallowed hard.
"Aria was the only one who could reach him," he said quietly. "Now… no one can."
A truth none of them dared to speak hung in the air:
If the king did not rise soon,
Skyblood would fall.
Back at the Shadowing tower, Garron found Liora waiting, a tray of food gone cold in her hands.
"I have spoken to him for hours," she said quietly. "No response."
Garron exhaled, frustration dragging deep from his chest. His patience snapped clean in half.
"Fine," he growled. "If you will not come out, then I am coming in."
Kael did not react.
Garron stepped back.
Cracked his knuckles.
Then—
BOOM.
His shoulder rammed the door. The ironwood shook, dust spilling from its hinges.
"Open this damned door, Kael!"
Kael stared emptily ahead, eyes unfocused, breath shallow.
"Leave," he rasped.
Garron let out a raw laugh, half fury, half heartbreak.
"I will not. You think Aria would want this?" His voice furrowed. "You think she died so you could lock yourself away and wither?"
Rokhan surged fiercely at the accusation, claws scraping inside Kael's mind. But even the wolf's rage felt sluggish, drowned under guilt.
Kael whispered, "I failed her."
Liora's brow tightened, pain flashing across her face.
Garron pressed on.
"You failed no one. Aria chose her path. She chose to fight beside you."
Kael bit out, "I was supposed to protect her."
"And who protects the protector?" Garron shot back. "Who saves you?"
Kael did not answer.
Could not.
The silence stretched into something sharp.
Finally, Garron spoke in a softer tone—one he rarely used.
"Kael… your kingdom needs you alive."
Still nothing.
Garron's jaw twitched. Then he whispered something he had not dared until now:
"She died for you. Do not make that sacrifice meaningless."
Kael's breath cracked. His grip on Aria's cloak trembled. But he still did not move.
Garron leaned his head against the door in defeat.
"I will return tomorrow," he murmured. "Even if you hate me for it."
Their footsteps retreated, echoing down the tower stairway.
Kael was alone again.
Alone with silence.
Alone with guilt.
Alone with the cloak of the woman he could not save.
Rokhan whined painfully.
Kael curled forward, burying his face in the torn fabric.
"Forgive me," he whispered to the emptiness.
Outside, the sky rumbled.
As if the Moon Goddess herself mourned with him.