44: Moonfire And Blood
The night after the ritual was the quietest the fortress had been in weeks. The howls that usually echoed through the valley were gone, replaced by the soft hum of crickets and the wind’s tired sigh. But inside the Alpha’s chambers, the silence was heavier than stone. Darius lay on the bed, pale and half-conscious. His breathing was shallow, his body wrapped in bandages that shimmered faintly under the moonlight. The markings — the silver lines of the curse — had faded to faint scars along his arm and neck. He looked peaceful, almost human again. Almost. Aria sat beside him, her hand wrapped around his. She hadn’t moved in hours. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw that moment again — his body writhing in the ritual circle, Damon’s hands glowing with Luna blood, the light swall
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