The Last Silver Moon

Chapter 4

The Old Temple rises from the forest like a forgotten dream. Stone pillars covered in ancient runes, a courtyard where moonlight pools like silver water. But what stops my breath is the statue in the center – a massive white wolf, so detailed it looks alive.

"Your ancestor," Elara says softly. "The first white wolf. Luna's chosen daughter."

I approach slowly, drawn by something I can't name. When my hand touches the stone, electricity shoots through me.

Images flood my mind. A woman with my eyes, shifting into a magnificent white wolf. Packs kneeling before her. Peace spreading across the land. Then fire, blood, betrayal.

I jerk my hand back, gasping.

"You saw it," Elara says. It's not a question.

"She was murdered. By her own mate."

"Yes. He feared her power would eclipse his own." Elara's eyes are sad. "That's why the bloodline went into hiding. Why your mother bound your wolf. History has a way of repeating itself."

I glance at Kieran, who's been silent since we arrived. "Is that why you haven't pushed the mate bond? You're afraid of what I'll become?"

"No." His voice is rough. "I'm afraid of what I'll do to anyone who tries to hurt you."

Before I can respond, the tattooed man – who finally introduced himself as Magnus – points to the sky. "Look."

The moon is rising, and it's already tinged with red. Tomorrow night, it will be completely crimson.

"We have maybe sixteen hours," Magnus says. "We should begin."

"Begin what?"

"Your preparation for the Trials."

They lead me into the temple. Inside, it's bigger than it looked – corridors branching in all directions, rooms filled with ancient books and weapons.

"This place was built for moments like this," Michael explains. "To prepare heirs for their destiny."

We enter a circular chamber with symbols carved into the floor. In the center is a pool of water that reflects the moon perfectly.

"The Scrying Pool," Elara says. "It will show you what you need to see."

"Which is?"

"Your trials. Each heir faces different ones, based on their greatest weaknesses."

I laugh bitterly. "I have too many to count."

"Three," she corrects. "You'll face three. And you need to know what they are."

She gestures to the pool. "Look."

I kneel beside it, staring into the moonlit water. At first, I see only my reflection. Then the water ripples, and the images begin.

The first shows me standing alone in a burning forest, surrounded by the corpses of wolves. In my hands is a crown dripping with blood.

The second shows Kieran with dead eyes, a collar around his neck, kneeling before me on a throne of bones.

The third... the third shows me as a wolf. But not white. Black as night, with red eyes, standing over the bodies of everyone in this room.

I scramble back from the pool. "No. That's not... I would never..."

"The Trial of Power," Elara says calmly. "You'll be offered unlimited strength, but at a cost. Most heirs fail this one. The temptation is too great."

"The Trial of Love," Magnus adds, looking at the second image. "You'll have to choose between your mate and your crown."

"And the third?" I ask, though I already know.

"The Trial of Self," Michael says. "You'll face your darkest potential. What you could become if you let the darkness in."

"How do I pass them?"

"No one knows. Each heir finds their own way. Or doesn't."

"How many have passed all three?"

Their silence is answer enough.

"None," I whisper. "None have passed all three."

"The first white wolf did," Elara says. "Before her mate killed her."

"That's comforting."

Kieran steps forward. "She won't be alone."

"She will in the Trials," Magnus says firmly. "That's the law. She enters alone, faces them alone, succeeds or fails alone."

"Then I'll change the law."

"You can't change cosmic law, boy."

They start arguing, but I'm not listening. I'm staring at the pool, where new images are forming. Not of trials, but of memories.

My mother, singing me to sleep.

Ronan, hitting me for the first time.

Years of hiding, pretending, surviving.

And through it all, a pair of silver eyes watching from the shadows. Kieran. He really had been there, all these years.

"You protected me," I say suddenly, and everyone stops arguing. I turn to Kieran. "Even when you couldn't interfere directly. Those times Ronan's beatings suddenly stopped. When money mysteriously appeared in my account for food. When that warrior who tried to assault me disappeared. That was you."

He doesn't deny it. "I did what I could."

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"Because you're already overwhelmed. I didn't want to add to it."

I stand, walking to him. "I'm going to die tomorrow, aren't I?"

"No." His hands cup my face. "I won't let that happen."

"You can't stop it."

"Watch me."

Before I can respond, he kisses me. It's gentle at first, then desperate, like he's trying to pour all his strength into me. Through our partial bond, I feel everything – his fear, his determination, his love.

Love. For someone he barely knows.

I pull back. "You don't even know me."

"I know enough."

"No, you know the idea of me. The white wolf. The heir. But you don't know Aria."

"Then tell me." He pulls me to a bench, ignoring the others. "We have sixteen hours. Tell me everything."

So I do. I tell him about hiding bruises with makeup. About sleeping in the cold because Ronan locked me out. About dreams of becoming a teacher, helping young wolves who felt as lost as I did. About the books I read to escape reality. About the garden I grew in secret, only to have Ronan destroy it when he found out.

I tell him about being human in a wolf world. About the ache of not shifting, not belonging, not understanding why I was different.

He listens to it all, his hands holding mine, his thumb tracing circles on my palm.

When I finish, he tells me his story. About becoming Alpha at twenty-one when his father died in battle. About the weight of protecting a pack. About searching for me for years, following dead ends and false leads. About the relief when he finally found me, and the rage when he realized how you were being treated.

"I almost killed Ronan a dozen times," he admits. "The only thing that stopped me was knowing it would void the contract."

"And now?"

"Now I wish I had. Contract be damned."

We talk until the others drift away, giving us privacy. We talk until the moon is high overhead, until my voice is hoarse and his eyes are heavy.

"I'm scared," I finally admit.

"I know."

"What if I fail? What if I become that thing in the vision?"

"You won't."

"How do you know?"

He touches my chest, right over my heart. "Because I can feel who you really are through our bond. You're not darkness, Aria. You're the light that drives it away."

"That's cheesy."

"Doesn't make it less true."

I lean against him, exhausted. "Will you stay with me? Until..."

"Until they make me leave."

We sit in silence, watching the moon track across the sky. I must doze because suddenly Magnus is shaking my shoulder.

"It's time."

I look outside. The sun is setting, and the moon is already rising – blood red now, like a wound in the sky.

"Where do I go?" I ask.

"The Sacred Grove," Elara says. "A mile north. You'll know it when you see it."

I stand, my legs shaky. Everyone is watching me – my grandmother, Magnus, Michael, Kieran.

"Any last advice?" I ask.

"Trust yourself," Elara says.

"Remember your humanity," Magnus adds.

"Don't let power corrupt you," Michael warns.

I look at Kieran. "And you?"

"Come back to me."

I nod, not trusting my voice. Then I walk out of the temple, into the blood-red twilight.

The forest is silent as I make my way north. No birds, no insects, even the wind has stilled. The world is holding its breath.

I find the Sacred Grove exactly where they said. It's a perfect circle of ancient trees, their branches forming a canopy overhead. In the center is a stone altar, carved with symbols that hurt to look at.

The moment I step into the circle, the air changes. It becomes thick, electric. The blood moon directly overhead, bathing everything in crimson light.

Pain explodes through my body.

I fall to my knees, screaming. My bones are breaking, reshaping. My skin feels like it's being flayed.

This is it. The shift.

But it's wrong. It's too much. The suppressants might be gone, but my body doesn't remember how to change. Twenty-two years of being human are fighting against my wolf nature.

'Let me out,' a voice whispers in my mind. Not Aria – my wolf.

'I don't know how!'

'Yes, you do. You've always known. Stop fighting. Stop being afraid. Let me free.'

The pain intensifies. I can feel myself splitting apart at the seams.

'Please,' I beg, not sure who I'm talking to.

'Trust me,' my wolf says. 'Trust us. We are one.'

I close my eyes and let go.

The transformation is instant. One moment I'm human, the next I'm wolf. But when I open my eyes and see my reflection in the pool of water near the altar, I gasp.

I'm not white.

I'm silver, like moonlight given form. And my eyes aren't the green I expected – they're gold, like molten metal.

Before I can process this, the world shifts.

The grove disappears. I'm standing in a place between places – ground made of mist, sky made of stars.

A figure materializes before me. It's me, but different. Human-shaped but with wolf eyes, dressed in armor made of shadows.

"Hello, Aria," she says with my voice. "Ready for your first trial?"

"Who are you?"

"I'm who you could be. With unlimited power. Let me show you."

She waves her hand, and the mist forms shapes. I see myself on a throne, wolves bowing before me. I see packs united under my rule. I see peace, prosperity, safety for all.

"This could be yours," she says. "All you have to do is accept the power."

"What's the catch?"

She smiles, and it's cruel. "Power demands sacrifice. To rule completely, you must be willing to destroy completely. Those who oppose you, those who threaten peace – they must be eliminated."

The mist shows new images. Wolves being executed. Packs being forced to submit. Ronan's head on a spike.

"Justice," she says. "For everything they did to you."

"That's not justice. That's vengeance."

"Sometimes they're the same."

She holds out her hand. In it is a crown made of darkness and starlight.

"Take it," she urges. "Take the power. Make them pay. Make them all pay."

I stare at the crown. It would be so easy. After years of being powerless, I could have it all.

But then I remember Kieran's words: "You're the light that drives darkness away."

"No," I say.

"No?" She looks genuinely surprised.

"Power without compassion is tyranny. I won't become the monster they painted me as."

"You'd rather be weak?"

"I'd rather be worthy."

She snarls, and suddenly she's not me anymore. She's a massive black wolf with red eyes – the vision from the pool.

"Then you'll die weak!"

She lunges at me, and instinctively I dodge. We fight, rolling across the misty ground. She's strong, so strong. But I'm faster, more agile.

'Use the fire,' my wolf whispers.

I don't know how, but I reach for that heat I felt before. It answers immediately. Silver flames erupt from my body, and the shadow wolf screams, dissolving into smoke.

The world shifts again.

I'm back in the grove, but I'm not alone.

Kieran is there, but something's wrong. His eyes are dull, lifeless. Around his neck is a silver collar attached to a chain.

And holding that chain is another version of me, wearing the crown I just rejected.

"Second trial," she says with my voice. "Choose. The crown or the mate. Power or love. You can't have both."