The Last Silver Moon

Chapter 3

The grey wolf's eyes are the same cold blue that haunt my nightmares. Marcus Blackthorne – the Alpha who destroyed my childhood pack.

"Hello, little princess," he says, shifting to human form. Scars crisscross his chest, but the biggest one runs from his left eye to his jaw. "Been looking for you for a very long time."

Kieran is already on his feet, positioning himself between us. "Blackthorne. You're supposed to be in prison."

"The Council released me yesterday. Good behavior." His smile is all teeth. "Perfect timing, wouldn't you say?"

"How did you find us?"

"I've been tracking her for years. That suppressant cocktail her stepbrother was giving her? I'm the one who supplied it." He laughs at my shocked expression. "What? You think it was coincidence your mother ended up in that pack? I arranged everything."

My blood turns to ice. "You... you planned it all?"

"Your mother was harder to kill than expected. She hid you well. Took me five years to track you down, and by then, you were already hidden in plain sight as a wolfless omega." He steps closer, but Kieran growls. "Brilliant, really. No one suspects the weak."

"Why?" My voice cracks. "Why kill her?"

"Because your bloodline is an abomination. The Moon Goddess made a mistake creating white wolves. They're too powerful. Too dangerous."

"You're insane," Kieran says.

"Am I? Tell me, Blackwood, what happens when she shifts tomorrow? When every pack in the country realizes the heir has returned?" Marcus spreads his arms. "War. That's what happens. Packs will tear each other apart trying to claim her."

"That's not—"

"It's exactly what will happen. It's what happened last time. Or did you forget your history? The War of the Three Alphas? Thousands died fighting over the last white wolf."

I don't know this history, but I can feel Kieran's tension through our bond. It's true.

"That was different," Kieran says.

"Was it? She's unmated, unclaimed, and about to become the most powerful wolf alive. Every unmated Alpha will go mad with the need to have her. The mate bond be damned."

"I won't let that happen."

Marcus laughs. "You? A single Alpha against hundreds? Even the mighty Shadow Pack can't protect her from what's coming."

"Watch me."

They circle each other like predators, and I realize they're about to fight. But something Marcus said sticks in my mind.

"You supplied the suppressants," I say, standing up. Both Alphas turn to me. "That means you knew where I was. You could have killed me anytime. Why didn't you?"

Marcus tilts his head. "Isn't it obvious?"

"Enlighten me."

"Dead martyrs create legends. But a white wolf who never shifts? Who lives and dies as a weak omega? That breaks the myth. Proves the bloodline isn't special." His eyes gleam. "You were supposed to die tomorrow, when the suppressants finally poisoned you. A tragic accident. No one would ever know what you truly were."

"But Ronan found out."

"That i***t puppy? He wasn't supposed to know. Someone talked." His gaze sharpens on Kieran. "Someone interfered with my perfect plan."

"I didn't tell him," Kieran says.

"No, but your presence triggered something, didn't it? Made her wolf fight harder. Made the suppressants work differently." Marcus shakes his head. "True mates. Another cosmic joke."

I feel something stirring inside me – not my wolf, but something else. Rage. Pure, burning rage.

"You killed my mother," I say quietly.

"Yes."

"You destroyed my pack."

"Every last one."

"You poisoned me for years."

"Would do it again."

The rage builds, and with it, power. The partial bond with Kieran pulses, and I feel him trying to send me calm through it. But I don't want calm.

I want justice.

"Aria, don't," Kieran warns. "You're not ready."

But I'm already moving. Not with my human speed – with something else. Something faster.

My fist connects with Marcus's jaw before he can react. He flies backward, hitting a tree with a crack that splits the trunk.

I stare at my hand. That shouldn't be possible.

Marcus gets up, spitting blood. "Impossible. The suppressants—"

"Are failing," I finish. "Thanks to Kieran's blood."

I can feel it now – the power humming under my skin. Not my wolf, not yet, but something. A taste of what's coming.

Marcus shifts instantly, lunging for my throat. But Kieran's already there, his black wolf slamming into Marcus mid-air.

They roll, a blur of teeth and claws. Blood spatters the ground.

"Stop!" I shout, but they don't listen.

Marcus is skilled, experienced. But Kieran is younger, faster, and fighting with a fury I can feel through our bond. He's not just protecting me – he's avenging me.

Marcus gets his teeth into Kieran's shoulder, tearing deep. Kieran roars in pain.

"No!"

The word comes out as more than sound. It's power, raw and primitive. Both wolves freeze, turning to stare at me.

I don't know what I'm doing, but I reach for that power again. "I said stop."

This time, they obey. Not by choice – their bodies simply stop moving.

"What are you doing?" Marcus snarls, fighting against invisible bonds.

"I don't know." It's the truth. The power is instinctive, natural as breathing. "But you're going to listen."

"You can't control me. You're not shifted. You're not even—"

"I'm the heir to the Midnight Crown," I say, and somehow, I know it's true. Can feel it in my bones. "And you killed my mother."

The power flares, and Marcus whimpers.

"Aria," Kieran says carefully. "You need to stop. Using this much power before your shift... it's dangerous."

He's right. I can feel it draining me, eating at my reserves. But I don't care.

"Tell me why," I demand, focusing on Marcus. "The real reason you killed her."

Marcus fights the compulsion, but the power of my bloodline is absolute. "She... she was going to tell the Council. About the prophecy."

"What prophecy?"

"The last white wolf won't just rule the packs. She'll unite them. End the wars. Create peace." He laughs bitterly. "Peace. Do you know what that means for Alphas like me? No more territory disputes. No more power grabs. No more survival of the fittest."

"You killed her because you didn't want peace?"

"I killed her because peace makes us weak. Wolves are meant to hunt, to fight, to conquer. Your bloodline wants to turn us into lap dogs."

The rage builds again, but this time Kieran is there, his hand on my shoulder.

"Enough," he says gently. "Let him go."

"He killed—"

"I know. But killing him now, like this, isn't justice. It's vengeance."

"What's wrong with vengeance?"

"Nothing. But you're better than that."

I want to argue, but the drain is getting worse. Black spots dance in my vision.

I release the power, and both wolves collapse. Marcus immediately tries to run, but Kieran is faster, pinning him down.

"You're not going anywhere," Kieran growls.

"You can't hold me. I have Council immunity."

"Had," Kieran corrects. "Pretty sure attacking the heir voids that."

"You can't prove she's the heir."

"Actually," a new voice says, "we can."

We all turn. Three figures emerge from the shadows – an elderly woman with silver hair, a massive man with tribal tattoos, and someone I never expected to see.

Alpha Michael. Ronan's father.

"Hello, Aria," he says, not quite meeting my eyes. "We need to talk."

"You knew," I whisper. "This whole time, you knew what I was."

"I suspected. But I couldn't be sure until..." He gestures at Marcus. "Until he confirmed it."

"You let your son abuse me."

"I let him test you. There's a difference."

"Is there?" Kieran snarls.

The elderly woman steps forward. "Enough. We don't have time for this. The blood moon rises in eighteen hours. We need to get her to safety."

"Who are you?" I ask.

"Elara Moonweaver. The last Oracle of the Silver Pack. And your grandmother."

The world tilts. "My... what?"

"Your mother was my daughter. Which makes you my granddaughter. And the only living heir to both the Midnight Crown and the Silver Throne."

"Both?"

She smiles sadly. "Your parents didn't just unite their hearts, child. They united their bloodlines. You're not just a white wolf. You're the bridge between two ancient powers."

"Three," the tattooed man corrects. "Don't forget her father's mother was Phoenix born."

"Phoenix born?" I'm lost.

"Fire wolves," Kieran explains. "Wolves who can shift into more than just wolf form."

"That's impossible."

"So is a white wolf," Marcus spits from beneath Kieran's hold. "But here we are."

Elara approaches me slowly, her eyes sad but kind. "There's so much to explain, so little time. But first, you need to know – your mother didn't die just to protect you. She died to protect everyone."

"What do you mean?"

"The prophecy Marcus mentioned? It's incomplete. Yes, the last white wolf will unite the packs. But only if she survives the Trials."

"What trials?"

"The Blood Moon Trials. Three tests, each deadlier than the last. Every heir must face them when they come of age." She touches my face gently. "Your mother knew you'd have to face them alone. That's why she bound your wolf – not to hide you, but to make you strong enough to survive without it."

"You're saying my whole life of suffering was... training?"

"In a way."

I laugh, but it's hollow. "That's insane."

"Is it? You've survived abuse, isolation, betrayal. You've learned to fight without claws, think without pack mind, endure without healing. You're probably the first heir in history who actually stands a chance."

"A chance at what?"

"Surviving what's coming."

Before anyone can elaborate, Marcus breaks free from Kieran's hold. But instead of running, he lunges for me.

"The bloodline dies tonight!"

Time slows.

I see Kieran reaching for him, too far away.

I see my grandmother raising her hand, power gathering but too slow.

I see Marcus's claws extending, aimed at my heart.

And I see myself moving.

Not away – toward.

My hand meets his chest, and power explodes from my palm. Not the compelling force from before. Something different. Something that burns.

Marcus screams, flying backward. When he lands, there's a handprint burned into his chest, still smoking.

"Fire," the tattooed man breathes. "She has the Phoenix gift."

I stare at my unmarked hand. "How?"

"Because you're awakening," Elara says. "Each hour closer to the blood moon, more of your power emerges. By tomorrow night, you'll be complete."

"Or dead," Marcus gasps from the ground. "The Trials will kill her just like they killed all the others."

"What others?" I demand.

But Marcus is already shifting, disappearing into the forest despite his injuries. No one tries to stop him.

"Let him go," Michael says. "He's served his purpose."

"His purpose?"

"We needed him to confirm you were the heir. His attack, your response – it's all the proof the Council needs."

"You used him? Used me?"

"To keep you alive, yes."

I'm shaking now, from rage or exhaustion, I don't know. "I want answers. Real answers. No more games."

"Then come with us," Elara says. "To the Old Temple. Where it all began."

"And if I refuse?"

"Then you die tomorrow night. The blood moon doesn't care if you're ready. The Trials will begin whether you want them or not."

I look at Kieran. Through our bond, I feel his certainty, his determination.

"I'll be with you," he says. "Whatever you decide."

"You can't help her in the Trials," Michael warns. "She faces them alone."

"Then I'll be waiting when she's done."

The certainty in his voice makes something in my chest tighten.

"The Old Temple," I say finally. "How far?"

"Six hours north," Elara says. "We need to leave now."

"Wait," I turn to Michael. "Ronan. What about—"

"My son is no longer your concern. Or mine." His face hardens. "He made his choice when he tried to force a mate bond. The Council will deal with him."

"You're abandoning him?"

"I'm choosing the future over the past." He meets my eyes. "Something I should have done years ago."

Before I can respond, another sound fills the air. Howls. Hundreds of them.

"They know," the tattooed man says. "Word has spread."

"What word?" I ask.

"That the white wolf has returned," Elara says grimly. "Every Alpha within a thousand miles is coming."

"For me?"

"For the chance to claim you before you fully awaken. A partially shifted white wolf can still be force-marked."

"But I'm Kieran's true mate—"

"That only matters if you accept the bond. Until then, you're fair game."

I turn to Kieran. "Is that true?"

His jaw tightens. "Yes."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Would it have changed anything?"

The howls grow closer.

"We need to move," Michael says. "Now."

But as we start to leave, I feel it again – that stirring inside me. Not my wolf, not the fire. Something else.

Something watching.

Something waiting.

Something that whispers a single word in my mind:

'Soon.'