Chapter Ten: The Moon Tribunal
1145 Words
Ash choked the night air as Kael shoved Liora behind him, his claws outstretched, the flames from Selene’s ambush licking at the edges of the clearing. Shadows moved through the smoke—rogue wolves half-shifted and snarling, their eyes feral and hungry. The firelight painted them in streaks of orange and black, like monsters pulled from the underworld.
Rhydian drew his blade, stepping shoulder to shoulder with Kael. “They’re not wasting time.”
Kael growled low. “She wants us bruised before the tribunal.”
Liora pressed her back to the stone of a half-burnt garden wall, heart pounding against her ribs. She could see Selene now—unmoving, poised in the middle of the chaos like a queen of wolves. Her crimson eyes never left Kael, cold and cruel.
“You’ve broken every law that held this dynasty together,” she called through the fire. “And now you want to parade your little human into the tribunal like she belongs there?”
Kael didn’t answer. He leapt forward instead, slicing through the nearest rogue with a clean, brutal strike. Blood splashed across the stones. Rhydian followed, a blur of silver steel and muscle, cutting down two more wolves that lunged from the trees.
Liora ducked as a rogue wolf charged toward her, teeth bared. She snatched a burning branch from the ground and swung it hard, the flames catching the creature’s side. It yelped and rolled, crashing into a heap against a tree.
Kael turned back, panting, eyes glowing. “Liora! Run for the north trail! Go!”
“I’m not leaving you!” she shouted, backing toward the trees.
A snarl sounded behind her—another rogue leaping from the brush.
Before it could reach her, a dark figure slammed into it from the side.
Rhyssa.
Dirt flew as the two wolves rolled, claws flashing. Rhyssa pinned the rogue, sank her teeth into its throat, and tore. It stilled.
Liora stared, breathless.
“You have to get to the tribunal,” Rhyssa growled, spitting blood. “Now.”
Kael grabbed Liora’s wrist. “This way.”
They sprinted together through the trees, Rhydian and Rhyssa holding off the rest of the attackers behind them. The forest blurred past—roots, stone, the taste of smoke still thick in her throat. The trail curved upward toward the oldest part of the territory.
Toward the Elder Circle.
They emerged from the trees into a clearing shrouded in silver mist. Ancient stones stood in a wide ring, carved with wolf runes and glowing faintly under the full moon’s light. At the center stood the Elders, robed and hooded, unmoving.
Torin stood with them.
He was dressed in ceremonial black, his hair tied back, his lips curled into a smug smile.
Selene appeared behind him moments later, her armor stained with blood, her gaze resting on Kael like she’d already won.
The head Elder stepped forward, voice echoing through the air.
“Kael Draven. You were summoned at moonrise to fulfill the decree. You are late.”
“I was attacked,” Kael growled. “By Selene’s wolves.”
“She has denied any involvement,” the Elder replied flatly.
Selene tilted her head. “I was simply passing through.”
A murmur passed through the council.
“Where is your mate?” the Elder asked.
Kael stepped aside, and Liora walked into the center of the circle. Her hands were trembling, her body covered in soot and blood, her hair tangled with ash—but she held her head high.
“She is human,” one of the Elders hissed. “This is an insult.”
“She is chosen,” Kael snapped. “By the bond. Not by law.”
“Has she accepted the mark?” another asked.
Kael hesitated.
“No,” Liora said firmly. “Not yet.”
Gasps rang out around the circle.
“She must shift before the next full moon,” the Elder said. “Or the bond is invalid.”
Kael nodded. “We know. We came to declare our intent. To mark her now, under witness.”
Torin stepped forward, sneering. “This breaks tradition. She has no wolf blood. This ritual is not hers to take.”
“It is if I claim it,” Liora said, voice loud and clear. “I’m not here by accident. I didn’t ask for this bond, but I feel it. I know him. I know what he fights for. And I will face whatever comes to stay by his side.”
Kael stared at her, eyes wide with emotion.
Torin’s lip curled. “Let her speak all she wants. She won’t survive the mark.”
“Then let her choose,” the Elder said.
All eyes turned to Kael.
He stepped forward, standing inches from Liora. His voice trembled, not with fear but with reverence.
“If I mark you, your body may reject the bond. You may shift. Or you may burn from the inside out. Once I start, I can’t stop. You have to be certain.”
She looked up at him, her voice steady. “I am.”
Kael’s jaw clenched. He took her hand and turned her gently, exposing the curve of her shoulder. The Elders stepped back. The moonlight flared brighter, the circle humming with energy.
Liora’s heartbeat roared in her ears.
Kael lowered his mouth to her skin. His breath was warm, and then…His teeth sank in.
Pain exploded through her. Fire seared from the bite down through her chest, into her spine, her limbs, her blood. She screamed as the bond ignited inside her like a second sun. Her knees buckled. Kael caught her as she collapsed, holding her as her body convulsed in his arms.
The Elders chanted in low, ancient tones.
Kael whispered her name, again and again, willing her to stay.
Then she went still. The circle held its breath.
“Liora?” Kael whispered, cradling her.
She didn’t respond.
“Is she dead?” one Elder asked.
“No,” Kael said, voice breaking. “No, she’s—”
Liora’s eyes snapped open but they weren’t green anymore. They were glowing silver.
She gasped, sitting upright, her hands clawing into the dirt. Her body shook, her bones twisting, cracking, reshaping.
The transformation had begun.
“She’s shifting,” one Elder breathed. “But… she’s not like us.”
Torin took a step back.
Selene hissed, eyes narrowing. “What did you do?”
Kael held her, awe and fear mixing in his voice. “She’s not just a mate. She’s something else.”
And as Liora screamed into the moonlight, her body caught halfway between wolf and woman, the Elders began to realize.
They were witnessing something the bloodline had never seen before.
The first hybrid Luna. The ritual wasn’t finished but war had just begun.
- Writer
