Chapter 5: The Awakening
1432 Words
"You knew?" My voice shakes as I stare at my mother. "You knew what I was and didn't tell me?"
The council chamber feels suffocating despite its size. Every important wolf in the Royal Pack is here, all staring at me like I'm a ticking bomb.
"I suspected," Mom says quietly. "But I hoped I was wrong. The Silver Moon Wolf is just a legend-"
"Apparently not," the eldest council member interrupts. He's pulled out an ancient book, its pages yellow with age. "It's all here. 'When the moon bleeds silver and the marked one bears lightning scars, the weapon of ending shall rise.'"
"Weapon of ending?" I repeat. "That sounds bad."
"It is," Victoria says from her seat. She's somehow managed to insert herself into this meeting. "According to the prophecy, the Silver Moon Wolf will either unite all supernatural creatures or destroy them all. No in-between."
"That's insane," Byrde says. "Wendy isn't going to destroy anyone."
"Isn't she?" Victoria stands, addressing the room. "Look at what's happened since she arrived. Attacks, dark magic, the Collector himself showing up. She's a magnet for chaos."
"That's enough," the King warns.
"Is it? Your Majesty, with all due respect, we need to consider the pack's safety. If she stays-"
"She's my mate," Byrde growls. "She stays."
"Even if it means our destruction?"
The room erupts in arguments. Half defending me, half calling for my exile. Through it all, I notice something strange. My scars are starting to glow again, pulsing with each angry voice.
"Stop," I whisper, but no one hears.
The glow intensifies. I feel power building in my chest, wild and uncontrolled.
"Stop!" This time it comes out as a roar, and silver light explodes from my body.
Everyone freezes. Not by choice - they're literally frozen in place, caught mid-word, mid-gesture.
"Oh my god," I breathe. "What did I do?"
Only Byrde can still move, fighting against the hold. "Wendy, you need to calm down."
"I can't! I don't know how to control it!"
He reaches me despite the magical pressure, pulling me against his chest. "Breathe with me. In and out. Focus on my heartbeat."
I press my ear to his chest, matching my breathing to his. Slowly, the silver light fades. Everyone unfreezes, stumbling.
"She attacked us!" someone shouts.
"It was an accident," Byrde says, but I can see the fear in their eyes now. Real fear.
"Perhaps," the eldest council member says slowly, "we should discuss this more privately."
Everyone files out except for Byrde, his parents, my mother, and the eldest councilman. Victoria tries to stay, but the King personally escorts her out.
"Now then," the elder says when we're alone. "Let's discuss what really happened when the Collector touched that collar."
"It burned him," I say. "The moment my scars touched it, he screamed like it was acid."
"Because it was," my mother says. "The collar was made of cursed silver, meant to bind magical creatures. But your marks... they're pure moon magic. The opposite of his dark power."
"So I'm what, his kryptonite?"
"More than that," the elder pulls out another book. "If the prophecy is correct, you're the only thing that can stop him permanently. He's been collecting marked wolves for centuries, building his power. But you... you could free them all."
"How?"
"We don't know yet. The prophecy is vague about that part."
"Great. Super helpful."
A howl echoes from outside. Then another. And another.
"Border patrol," Byrde says, already moving. "Something's wrong."
We race to the walls where chaos greets us. Three of our patrol wolves are down, not dead but unconscious. Standing over them is a figure in a red hood.
"Delivery for the Silver Moon Wolf," the figure says, their voice distorted. They throw something at my feet - a crystal vial filled with swirling silver liquid.
"What is it?" I ask.
"A gift from the Collector. And a message: Drink this, and you'll understand everything. Your true power, your destiny, how to control it. Don't drink it, and next time, these wolves won't wake up."
The figure vanishes in a puff of smoke.
I pick up the vial. It's warm, pulsing like a heartbeat.
"Don't even think about it," Byrde says.
"But what if-"
"It's a trap. Obviously."
"Or it's answers." I hold it up to the light. The liquid is beautiful, almost hypnotic. "What if I really can't control this power without help?"
"We'll figure it out together."
"Like we figured out me freezing twenty people?" I snap, then immediately regret it. "I'm sorry. I just... I'm scared, Byrde. What if I hurt someone? What if I hurt you?"
He cups my face. "You won't."
"You don't know that."
"I trust you."
"Well, I don't trust me!"
Before anyone can stop me, I uncork the vial and drink it.
The effect is immediate. Fire races through my veins. I drop to my knees, screaming. Images flood my mind - memories that aren't mine.
I see the first marked wolf, blessed by the moon goddess herself. I see the Collector as he truly is - not a man but something ancient, something hungry. I see hundreds of years of marked wolves being captured, controlled, turned into weapons.
And I see the truth.
The Collector isn't collecting wolves. He's collecting power, storing it, waiting for one specific wolf. The Silver Moon Wolf. Me.
Because with me, he can open a door. A door between worlds. A door that should never be opened.
"No," I gasp, coming back to myself. I'm in Byrde's arms, everyone crowded around me.
"What did you see?" Mom asks.
"Everything. He's not trying to make me a weapon. He's trying to make me a key." I struggle to sit up. "There's something locked away. Something the moon goddess herself sealed. He thinks my power can open it."
"What's behind the seal?" the King asks.
"The Old Ones. The first supernaturals. The ones too powerful and too cruel to exist in this world." I touch my scars, which are now glowing constantly. "And if he succeeds, they'll destroy everything."
"Then we stop him," Byrde says simply.
"How? He has an army."
"We have you."
"I don't know how to fight! I don't even know how to control this power!"
"Then we teach you," a new voice says.
Everyone spins. Standing at the gate is a woman I've never seen before, but somehow I know her. She was in the visions. The first marked wolf.
"Hello, granddaughter," she says, smiling. "I think it's time we had a chat about your heritage."
"That's impossible," my mother breathes. "You're-"
"Aria Stone? Yes. Supposedly dead for a hundred years." She winks. "Death, as it turns out, is negotiable when you're the moon goddess's chosen."
She walks closer, and I see her marks - silver like mine but covering her entire body in beautiful patterns.
"You're here to help?" I ask.
"I'm here to train you. The Collector made a mistake giving you that vial. It wasn't just memories - it was a connection. To all marked wolves, including me."
"So you know how to stop him?"
Her smile fades. "I know how to try. But Wendy, you need to understand something. The prophecy isn't about choosing between saving or destroying supernatural creatures."
"Then what's it about?"
"It's about choosing between saving them or becoming them. The power you carry... it changes you. The more you use it, the less human you become. Until eventually..."
"Eventually what?"
She pulls back her hood, revealing eyes that are pure silver, no pupils, no iris. "You become something else entirely."
I look at Byrde, fear clutching my heart. "What if I-"
"Then I'll love you anyway," he says without hesitation.
But looking at my grandmother's alien eyes, I wonder if there will be anything left of me to love.
"We start training at dawn," Aria says. "You have three days to learn three hundred years of magic. After that, the Collector will make his real move."
"How do you know?"
She smiles sadly. "Because in three days, the blood moon rises. And when it does, the door between worlds will be at its weakest. He'll come for you then, with everything he has."
I stand, squaring my shoulders. "Then we'd better get started."
As everyone disperses, Victoria approaches me privately. "You know you're going to get him killed, right? Byrde. He'll die protecting you."
"Not if I die protecting him first."
She laughs coldly. "You really think you're the hero of this story?"
"No," I say honestly. "But I'm hoping I'm not the villain."
- Writer
