The Chronicles of the Twin Moons

Chapter Four: Elder Raith's Faith

He had threatened May. My sweet, stubborn granddaughter, the last light I had left. His words echoed in my chest, sharper than any blade:

"Don’t push it, old man. May might pay."

Fear gripped me, cold and relentless. My legs moved before my mind could catch up, carrying me away from the hall, away from Awen, away from the law. I was walking. Away.

Awen… I left her in his claws. Alpha Gregarious, I am sorry.

Memories clawed at me. The Alpha’s voice, deep and steady, speaking of Awen’s future: “She will be the one to break chains, Raith. Guard her well, even from yourself. She will see what others cannot.” How often had I promised, silently, that I would? And yet here I was, frozen in place while that same promise trembled like a candle flame.

Travis’ smirk, his arrogance, the sheer audacity of it—it all pressed on me. But then another shadow of thought stirred, colder, firmer. Rauken. The old heirless Alpha. I had seen him in this territory once, long ago. Silent, watchful. Calculating. If Rauken knew what Gregarious would have done… he would act. He would protect Awen, even before she knew herself. And yet, Rauken’s presence was distant now, unseen, a ghost at the edge of my conscience, reminding me I could not fail.

I thought of May again—her laugh, her stubborn courage, her life resting in my hands. The Alpha’s words about Awen and her destiny mingled with my duty to my granddaughter. Every step I took felt like a betrayal, every breath heavy with unspoken fear and responsibility.

The hall murmurs faded to background noise. Faces blurred. Only the weight of my choices remained, pressing, demanding. Could I do this without losing everything? Could I confront him without destroying the fragile balance of law and blood?

I walked for hours. Late afternoon bled into dusk, and dusk into the first bruises of night. My legs ached, my thoughts worse. Then I heard it. The clatter of training, wood striking wood, breath measured and deliberate, before I ever saw them.

When I did, hope returned. No—faith. Faith in Veluna and Kaelun, whole and blazing, surged back into my chest in a single heartbeat.

Alpha Rauken the Hairless stood in the clearing, wooden sword leveled with a young, strong man whose stance had not yet learned fear. Rauken’s posture was calm, unyielding, the kind of stillness that came from having already lost everything once.

“Veluna bless us,” I breathed into the dark, my voice barely more than a prayer.

“We have a chance.”