Claimed by the Alpha's Moon

Chapter 4: The Dying Light

Chapter 4: The Dying Light

The forest was painted in blood.

I found Kael collapsed against the massive oak where we'd first met, silver spreading through his veins like poison. Three Council enforcers lay dead around him, but the victory had cost him everything.

"You shouldn't have come," he whispered as I dropped to my knees beside him. Blood frothed at his lips, and his golden eyes were dimming.

"You're dying." I pressed my hands to the silver bolt wound in his chest, and he hissed in pain.

"The silver's in too deep. Even alpha healing can't—" He coughed, more blood staining his shirt. "You need to run. Before they send more."

"I'm not leaving you."

His hand found mine, fingers weak but determined. "Listen to me. What you did back there—that power—it's not finished awakening. The Council knows that. They'll come for you with everything they have."

"Then we fight them together."

He tried to smile, but it came out as more of a grimace. "You still don't understand what you are, do you?"

Before I could answer, I felt it—that strange warmth spreading through my chest. The same power that had erupted when he'd been shot. But this time, it felt different. Controlled. Purposeful.

Silver light began to emanate from my palms where they pressed against his wound.

Kael's eyes widened. "Aria, what are you—"

"I don't know," I whispered, but I didn't pull away. The light grew brighter, and I could feel the poison fighting against my power. "But I'm not letting you die."

The silver bolt began to dissolve, turning to harmless dust that scattered in the wind. Kael's wounds started to close, his breathing grew stronger, and color returned to his face.

But the effort was draining me. I swayed, darkness creeping in at the edges of my vision.

"That's impossible," Kael breathed, sitting up as his strength returned. "Moonborn can command wolves and night creatures, but they can't heal—"

He cut himself off, staring at me with something like awe. And fear.

"Unless..." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Unless you're not just Moonborn."

"What do you mean?"

He reached out to touch my face, and I saw my reflection in his eyes—silver light still dancing beneath my skin, my hair shifting from brown to platinum in the moonlight.

"You're Celestial-born," he said, voice filled with wonder and terror. "The first in a thousand years. That's why the Council wants you dead. You're not just prophesied to unite or destroy the packs."

He pulled me closer, his forehead resting against mine.

"You're destined to rule them all."

The words hit me like a physical blow. Before I could respond, the sound of approaching vehicles filled the air—engines, barking dogs, the heavy footsteps of an army.

Kael was on his feet instantly, pulling me up with him. "We have to go. Now."

But as we turned to run, spotlights blazed to life, surrounding us. Dozens of Council enforcers emerged from the treeline, weapons trained on us.

Elder Thorne moved forward, flanked by two people I had never met before: a woman with ice-white hair and a man whose presence alone crackled with malevolent energy.

"Aria Hollowfang," the lady called out, her voice possessing an otherworldly power. "Or should I say, Aria Silvermoon? Yes, we are aware of your given name. Your actual ancestors.

My lungs seized. Silvermoon—the strongest Celestial lineage said to have perished centuries ago.

"I am High Councilor Lyra, " the woman went on. "And this is my assistant, Lord Malachar. We've arrived to give you an offer.

Kael snarled, moving slightly to shield me, "We're not interested.

Lord Malachar laughed, a sound like shattering glass. "Oh, but you ought to be. You see, we learned something quite amazing about your little buddy bond.

He gestured, and one of the enforcers came forward, carrying an old volume bound in what looked to be human skin.

According to this prediction, a Celestial-born who forms bonds with a Blackthorn heir produces something never before seen. A power that might tear the veil separating worlds.

My blood went cold. "What veil?

High Counselor Lyra grinned, but her voice held no warmth. "The ones that ruled before the first shapeshifters walked the earth.

She opened the book, and I could see writing that looked to twist and writhe on the page.

"Join us willingly, and we'll show you how to manage your capacity. Refusing. . . " She nodded to Lord Malachar.

He raised his hand; every enforcer in the clearing started to transform. Not into wolves, though.

Into something else. Something with eyes like burning coals and an excessive number of teeth.

"Refuse, and we'll release the devils nevertheless. But we'll make certain you watch as they consume everyone you've ever loved.

Kael's grip on mine tightened. Through our relationship, I sensed his determination, his readiness to battle against nearly impossible odds.

But I also felt anything else—a darkness developing inside me, reacting to the threat. The celestial energy comprised more than just light and healing.

Judgment. It was furious.

And then it awakened.

"You have ten seconds to decide," High Counselor Lyra stated serenely.

I gazed at Kael, at the demonic enforcers, at the time promising only ruin.

Then I finalized my decision.

I moved forward, silver lightning crackling around me.

"I have a counter-offer," I said, my tone taking on fresh authority. "Leave now, and I won't show you what a Celestial-born can really do when she's angry.

As the temperature plummeted twenty degrees suddenly, Lord Malachar's laughter cut off.

I was not merely rising any longer.

I was totally conscious.

And I was tired of being a victim to everyone.