A Luna in Disguise

Chapter 12

Moonlight guided our ragged column north through a narrow ravine, each step twisting through brambles and moss‐slick rocks. I led the noncombatants—cadets, younger trainees, even a handful of civilian refugees—while Kael, Riven, Rhea, and the fighters stayed behind to hold the ridge against the Council’s horde.

My heart thudded in my chest with every footfall. I could still hear the distant clash of steel and the thunder of Alpha roars drifting down the valley. My choice to leave them at the battlefield stung like a fresh wound. I’d promised I wouldn’t fail anyone; now I carried the lives of this group on my shoulders as they followed a frightened girl into the dark.

“We’re almost clear,” I whispered, checking the faded map Riven pressed into my hand. The path wound beside a rushing creek, then out onto the open plains beyond. But before dawn, we’d need to cross that field.

A boy stumbled behind me. “Cadet Valen—Aria… my ankle’s bleeding.”

I knelt, sliding off my gloves to press cloth against the wound. “Here.” I tightened my grip. “Lean on me—just one step at a time.”

He nodded, teeth clenched, and I guided him forward. The others fell into a quiet rhythm, their breaths puffing in the cold air, eyes darting at every shifting shadow.

Somewhere upstream, water gurgled over stones. I led them to its bank. They knelt for a silent drink, splashing faces. I crouched and traced my fingers through the current. It was cold and urgent—exactly what we needed.

Behind us, the ravine walls loomed close, their edges tangled with tree roots. I caught the glimmer of something carved into the rock—a Council ward, glowing faintly blue in the moonlight.

My blood ran cold. “They’ve marked this trail,” I murmured, pressing my palm to the stone. The ward pulsed, as if sensing my touch. “They know we’re coming.”

A woman behind me gasped. “What do we do?”

I bit my lip, scanning the ravine walls. “We bypass it—climb that spur,” I pointed to a narrow ledge on the left. “It’ll slow us down, but it’ll break their line of sight.”

Murmurs rose among the group. Some hesitated. I offered a small, tight smile. “Trust me.”

I led the way up the slick rock, boots slipping once—but steadying. The others followed, one by one, supporting each other. My heart pounded with the weight of their trust. Every slip could be fatal.

By the time we reached the top, the ward’s glow was behind us, swallowed by darkness. We slipped off the ledge and dropped into a shallow hollow. Relief surged, but I didn’t let it show.

“We move,” I said. “Another mile to the crossing.”

They rose, and we pressed on. The forest gave way to tall grasses that brushed against our legs, shimmering silver under the moon. A hush fell. Even the creek’s roar felt distant.

I paused, scanning the field ahead. At its far edge, I saw torches—Council patrols, bristling with armor.

I swallowed. “Line up behind me. We’ll sneak in one at a time.”

The youngest cadet trembled. “What about Kael?”

I closed my eyes. “He’ll be fine. He’s a storm in battle.” I offered her a gentle nod. “He fights for you, and he fights for me.”

She drew a shaky breath. “Okay.”

I led them down, body low, boots padded against the grass. Each time a torch passed too close, I froze us—hearts pounding, breaths caught—then moved us on when it swung away.

Halfway across, the wind shifted. I smelled cedar and… something else. Blood. Council blood, or ours? My pulse spiked. I signaled everyone to hold. We pressed flat against the earth.

Ahead, a patrol trotted past, wolves’ claws clacking on the hard ground. They passed within feet of us but didn’t see. Their lamplight swept past my face, hot and bright, then moved on.

I exhaled. “Keep going.”

We made it to the far edge. Relief fluttered in my chest, but then the ground trembled beneath my boots—a distant roar that grew louder with every heartbeat.

“Kael!” I whispered, fear mixing with hope. He’d told me once the resistance had hidden war beasts—giant wolves bred for battle.

I rummaged in my pack for the signal orb Riven gave me. It was a tiny glass sphere, humming faintly. I tapped it—once, twice, three times. A soft chime echoed through the night.

Moments later, a howl answered from the battleground. Then another. And another, until the valley rang with their fury.

“We have to go,” I hissed. “They’re coming.”

We raced across the last yards, boots pounding the earth. Behind us, the patrols heard the howls—guards shouting alarms, the clash of metal as they turned toward the battlefield.

We dashed into the treeline at the north end, stumbling among roots and ferns, hearts slamming. I led them to a sheltered hollow beneath a fallen oak. We pressed against the mossy trunk, lungs heaving.

“Are we safe?” the young cadet whispered.

“For now,” I said, glancing back. Through a break in the trees, I saw the field illuminated by torchlight, figure after figure gathering.

And at the ridge, a line of massive war wolves emerged, their fur gleaming silver under the moon. They bayed, a chorus of warning. Then, beyond them, I saw Rhea and Kael, leading the resistance’s fighters—shields raised, blades shining. They moved like a tide crashing against the Council’s lines.

My breath caught. Kael’s golden eyes locked onto mine for a second. He gave a fierce nod, then turned back to the fray.

I pressed my hand to my heart. Our side was outnumbered—but they had something the Council never would: a cause worth dying for, and a Luna who refused to run again.

A branch snapped behind us.

I spun around, blade in hand.

Silence.

Then a whisper from the dark: “Need help?”

I blinked.

And found myself staring at Elias—the cadet who once nearly exposed me. Now wet-eyed, grin crooked, blade at the ready.

“I couldn’t leave you alone,” he said, voice low.

My heart stuttered.

Relief. Betrayal. Hope.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

He nodded, stepping forward.

But as he joined our circle, something moved behind him—an enemy scout slipping through the shadows.

I raised my sword.

And braced myself for the next move.