The moonlight’s serene glow is cast over the Sacred Grove, its silvery beams belying the chaos that has unfolded under its watchful gaze.
With his head still swimming, Stone knelt beside Clementine, his sister’s lifeless eyes staring up at the stars she once believed held answers.
A guttural growl of sorrow escaped him, reverberating through the grove like a somber wind. Seeing her like this—it had a sobering effect, ushering out the last remnants of disorientation left from their teleportation.
Why would anyone do this?
Was it just to get back at them?
But the truth unraveled itself like a lotus flower.
“She died protecting the Luna Scrolls,” Stone murmured, the words thick with grief, despite their revelation.
The weight of her belief in the prophecy—that it would save them—felt like a heavy chain around his heart.
His hand trembled as he reached out to close her eyes. The simple gesture was a silent farewell to a life intertwined deeply with the fate of their pack.
Ella knelt beside him, tears silently tracing down her cheeks as she gazed upon Clementine’s still form.
After a moment of shared mourning, Ella’s posture stiffened, her expression shifting into one of resolute command. With a deep, steadying breath, she reached out with her mind—her Alpha command resonant and clear as it echoed telepathically to every member of the pack.
Everyone, get to the Sacred Grove. Now.
As Stone sensed the pack members beginning to heed her summons, a slow, sarcastic clap sliced through the quiet night.
Stone and Ella turned sharply to see Andres emerging from the shadows with an insufferable smirk playing on his lips.
“Well, well, if it isn’t the great Moon Wolves, brought to their knees over a legend,” he mocked, his voice smooth and contemptuous.
Stone’s grief twisted into fury, his hands balling into fists at his sides. Before he could move, Ella placed a calming hand on his arm, her touch a silent command for restraint.
We need time for the others to arrive. We’ll have our asses handed to us with this disorientation, she said, reaching out to him through the bond.
She rose to her feet, facing Andres squarely. “If you think so little of these ‘legends,’ why bother with us at all?”
Andres’s smirk widened as he stepped closer, his gaze flicking dismissively between Stone and Ella. “Let’s call it morbid curiosity at this point.”
As Andres stared at them from the shadows, his words lingered with Stone like a bad aftertaste.
The Sacred Grove remained tense—the air thick with the scent of unease and freshly disturbed earth. Before Stone could voice his lament, a familiar disturbance in the air rippled behind them.
With a soft pop and a slight wobble, Kyros reappeared in the center of the Sacred Grove with Isolde.
Kyros’s grandiose demeanor momentarily faltered as he caught the tension in the air and took in Clementine’s body.
“Oh dear, did we miss something crucial?” he asked, his eyes wide with concern.
Isolde stepped forward, her mouth agape. “What happened here?”
Stone had no words for her to explain what she was seeing. He couldn’t believe it himself.
As Isolde dropped down beside Ella’s feet to inspect Clementine, Andres’s laughter cut through the tense air, drawing all eyes back to him.
“Oh, how touching,” he mocked, ignoring Isolde’s question entirely. “The fancy Moon Wolves have enlisted a solitary witch and an old man to their cause. Truly, revolutionary.”
Despite her travel sickness, Ella’s stance remained unyielding as she faced him.
“I wouldn’t underestimate either of them,” she countered firmly, her voice carrying the weight of her authority.
Andres’s smirk only broadened and it made Stone’s stomach roll. He was up to something—something big.
“Perhaps. But compared to the entire coven at my disposal, I think I’ll shake in my Chelsea boots another day,” he taunted, his eyes gleaming with scorn. .”
Isolde’s posture stiffened. Though her hands rested on Clementine’s shoulder, her gaze never wavered from Andres.
“Underestimating what others can do is a common mistake of the arrogant,” she retorted, her voice cool and controlled.
“Is that so?” Andres said, his gaze cooly landing on Kyros. “And what can you do? Other than parlor tricks?”
With a shudder, Kyros glanced around, his nerves visibly fraying.
He caught Stone’s gaze before blurting out, “Perhaps I should—yes, I think it’s best if I leave you all to it. Magical confrontations are not quite my cup of tea, if you will.”
Before anyone could respond, Kyros vanished with another pop, leaving behind a faint scent of ozone and a trace of his quirky presence.
Andres’s mocking laughter echoed through the grove, raking over Stone’s nerves. He clenched his fists, trying to contain the beast within that urged him to shift and attack. He sensed the same fight going on inside Ella, too.
They needed a plan.
The first of their pack members began to arrive, slipping through the trees with quiet, lethal grace, their eyes alight with the glow of their wolf forms.
Stone kept his gaze locked on Andres, who seemed unfazed by the growing number of werewolves entering the fray.
“What I find annoying is that you really think you’re worthy to rule this territory,” Andres chided, his voice smooth and condescending. “You were a fucking human, Ella. Black Crater should be under the control of someone who can actually protect it. Who understands what that even means.”
Ella’s energy vibrated from her as her eyes flashed a fierceness that reflected her inner wolf with their multicolored light.
“We’ve managed just fine without you,“ she retorted with a low growl.
Andres chuckled, his eyes sweeping over the pack members that were quickly forming a protective crescent around their Alpha.
“Look at this. A ragtag group of moon chasers, all clinging to ancient prophecies and a few dusty old scrolls. Do you even understand what you’re guarding? Or are you just playing with fables?”
Stone felt the pack’s collective anger simmering just beneath the surface, ready to erupt. Yet, they held back, standing firm behind their Alpha waiting on her order. Their discipline was a testament to the unity and strength they’ve built over the past few months.
Stone’s heart filled with pride, despite mourning their loss at the same time.
Andres stepped closer, his tone smooth, almost reasonable. “Think about it, Ella. I said it before and I’ll say it now. Hand over the territory. Let someone with the resources to manage it take over. You can keep your titles—your rituals. Just fall under my jurisdiction. It’s a generous offer, really.”
Ella’s eyes narrowed, the rumble in her throat deepening.
“We are not subjects to be ruled, Andres. This is our territory. We won’t surrender it,” she declared, her voice resonating through the sacred site.
Stone felt a gnawing panic rising within him as Andres’s words echoed in his ears, each taunt slicing through the tension like a well-aimed arrow.
This was the same rhetoric Andres had spouted last time they faced off. Yet now, there was an undeniable confidence in his demeanor—a cockiness that hadn’t been there before.
What had changed?
Why did Andres seem so sure of himself this time?
As he scanned the clearing, Stone’s gaze lingered on the faces of his pack members—their energy full of both resolve and unease.
They were ready to fight, to defend their territory, but Stone couldn’t shake the feeling that they were missing a crucial piece of the puzzle.
Suddenly more alert, his eyes surveyed the woods around him. He could sense Andres’ pack and other magical beings—the witches most likely—but there had to be more.
Something that was about to tip the scales.
He could feel it.
Andres seemed to revel in the tension he was creating, his eyes gleaming as he surveyed the growing number of Black Crater werewolves.
“You think your little gatherings and your ancient prophecies will save you?” he jeered. “You’re living in the ancient past, Ella. The world is changing, and I have the means to change with it—to control it. With the Luna Scrolls now in my possession, I’m certain the power they describe will be mine to command.”
Ella remained stoic, but Stone could sense the ripple of concern that passed through her. Andres’s mention of the scrolls wasn’t just a boast—it was a declaration of an advantage he believed he had.
But was that it?
Stone’s thoughts flashed to the cryptic nature of the Luna Scrolls, the deep magic they were rumored to contain. Not only did they detail the prophecy, but the vision for the future where the supernatural community was united under one ruler.
Did he actually believe he was it?
“Your confidence is misplaced, Andres,” Ella shot back, her voice strong despite the uncertainty that Stone knew she felt. “Having the Luna Scrolls and understanding them are two very different things.”
As their pack tightened around the Sacred Grove, the unity among them was palpable. They were more than just a pack—they were a family, bound by blood, loyalty, and a shared dedication to their land and legacy. Each member radiated a quiet strength that bolstered Stone’s resolve.
Andres scoffed, shaking his head. “You rely too much on loyalty and tradition. But I’m offering you a way out before this escalates further. Think about your pack, Ella. You can avoid unnecessary bloodshed.”
Stone fought back a snarl.
They were not just defending territory—they were defending their way of life, their history, and their future.
Andres’s words, though menacing, also betrayed his desperation. He wanted Black Crater’s territory for the symbolic defeat it would represent.
If Black Crater bowed to Andres, others would follow because he had both the Luna Scrolls and the Moon Wolves under his command.
The air thickened as Andres’s mocking laughter faded, the tension palpable under the serene moonlight. Stone’s muscles tensed, preparing for any sudden move, but Andres remained casual, almost carefree, his eyes lingering on Ella with a cool, sarcastic gaze.
Ella’s jaw ticked, but she didn’t say the words that appeared to be on the tip of her tongue.
“You really should consider my offer,” Andres continued, that stupid smirk never leaving his face. “It’s only a matter of time, Ella. Resistance is just prolonging the inevitable.”
“Are you deaf, Andres? We will never bow to you,” she declared. “It’ll never happen.”
The standoff continued, each moment stretching longer. The silence was punctuated only by the soft rustle of leaves in the gentle night breeze.
The pack’s collective energy was a tightly wound spring, ready to snap at the slightest provocation.
Unfortunately, Stone knew it was exactly what Andres wanted.
Just as the tension seemed unbearable, Andres turned and tipped his chin toward the darkness behind him. “Very well. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
As if an invisible cloak was dropped, another figure emerged from the darkness, stepping into the moonlit grove with a presence that sent a chill straight down Stone’s spine.
A growl bubbled up from the back of his throat as he actively fought the urge to shift and rip his throat out.
Silas slinked into view, his arrival unannounced but his timing impeccable—as if he’d been waiting for the perfect moment to make his entrance.
That’s when Stone realized that’s exactly what had happened.
This—this was what Stone had been sensing.
Silas’s eyes locked with Ella’s, and a slow, sinister smile spread across his face.
“Andres has been trying to persuade you with words,” he said, his familiar voice cutting through the night. “But I believe actions speak louder than any threat or promise.”
Without another word, two figures were pushed forward from the shadows. As moonlight illuminated them, Stone watched in horror as Asher and Avery were unceremoniously pushed forward into the clearing.
Asher stumbled slightly, catching himself with a wide-eyed look of confusion and fear. His hand instinctively reached for his sister, who clung to him, her smaller body shaking.
Avery’s eyes were huge in the pale light, darting around the clearing in a desperate search for something familiar—something safe.
When they landed on Ella, her lips parted as if to speak or cry out, but no sound came—only a silent, trembling gasp that spoke volumes of her fright.
Asher’s jaw set, a determined frown forming as he tried to mask his own fear. His gaze met his mother’s across the clearing, and in that brief glance, a flurry of unspoken messages passed between them—reassurance, fear, defiance.
Despite their grim situation, Asher squared his shoulders, standing a little taller, his protective instincts palpable even in his own vulnerability.
Isolde stood up, then gasped, her voice low as she whispered, “Oh, no.”
Stone watched, his heart clenching at the sight of the kids so cruelly used as pawns.
How the hell did they find them?
Next to him, Ella gasped, and then a fierce snarl tore from the depths of what felt like her soul.
The grove fell deathly silent, every wolf holding their breath, their eyes fixed on the children who stood trembling under Silas’s grip.
Andres looked around, his smile never faltering. “So, tell us again how you’ll never bow down.”