Ciara didn't wait. She moved her cloak , The second the words left its mouth, she shifted—bones cracking, fur sprouting, paws hitting the earth with a thud. Her wolf form was smaller than most Alphas, but she was fast, agile, and fearless.
She lunged at him with a snarl, claws extended, aiming straight for his throat.
It didn't move.
It didn't flinch.
Just a flicker of amusement crossed it's face before it sidestepped with inhuman speed. Ciara felt a rush of cold air—then pain.
With a swift, effortless motion, it caught her midair and slammed her into the ground. Hard. The wind left her lungs in a stunned gasp. She writhed, but its hand was like iron, pinning her down.
Ciara shifted back instinctively, panic roaring through her veins. Naked and gasping on the forest floor, she scrambled backward, dirt and leaves sticking to her skin. Her hands trembled as she pulled her cloak from where it had fallen and wrapped it tightly around her body, shielding herself with shaky breaths.
Her eyes widened at the creature before her.
It was tall, elegant even. Its yellow eyes held centuries in them. Its skin was too pale. Its presence too still …cold. Predatory.
"What are you? She asked for the second time" she breathed, voice hoarse.
It stepped closer, a smirk still playing on its lips but Ciara couldn't see it under the cloth covering its mouth.
"Little Alpha," it said, voice low and smooth like velvet laced with venom. "I don't like werewolves… not one bit. But you—" it knelt slightly, eyes scanning her like a specimen. "You're… interesting."
Ciara's expression hardened. She shoved herself away and stood up, unsteady but defiant. "Answer me."
It straightened again, slow and composed.
"So they've kept secrets from you," it said, tilting his head slightly. "They didn't tell you the truth."
"What truth?"
"That we exist, "They never told you vampires dwell in Selvayra too?"
Ciara's breath hitched.
Vampires.
She'd heard myths. Whispered stories. Nightmares passed down like ghost tales. But no one ever said they were real.
"You're lying."
yellow eyes darkened. "Am I?"
Silence fell between them. The wind rustled the trees. Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled, A rogue —but it sounded far away. Too far but it mattered, if one was around, the rest might also be and they can't fight them all off.
Before she could move , or shift again—
The creature was on her.
A blur of motion. A flash of fangs.
She barely gasped before it's mouth was at her neck, cold lips brushing skin—and then pain, sharp and searing, as fangs pierced her just deep enough to sink her into unconsciousness.
Her eyes fluttered.
Her knees gave way.
The last thing she saw was the pale shimmer of it's eyes, and the soft, satisfied whisper near her ear:
"Sleep, little Alpha."
Then everything went black.
It caught her easily, lifting her like she weighed nothing. Her cloak slipped slightly, but was pulled around her with surprising gentleness. Cradling her against its chest, then vanished into the trees— footsteps making no sound as it disappeared into the shadows.
—-----------
Back in the Lunarion grounds, the Moonveil wolves lay scattered, breathless and sore, every muscle in their bodies screaming from the torment Kael had just put them through. The air was thick with sweat and silence—only the occasional cough or groan broke through.
Kael stood at the far end, arms folded, face as hard as stone. His golden eyes watched them like prey, unimpressed.
Sera dropped beside one of the warriors, clutching her ribs. "Is he trying to kill us?" she hissed.
"I think that's the point," he muttered, barely able to lift his head.
But Aldric remained still, his expression unreadable as he watched the scene unfold. He wasn't concerned like the others. The suffering didn't shake him.
This—this exhaustion, the bruises, the pain—wasn't enough to move him. It wouldn't break him.
He stood upright, calm, with Liora safely wrapped in his cloak nearby. His eyes didn't blink, didn't flinch.
He had made peace with sacrifice.
He had done it before. He would do it again.
So this—what Kael was doing? It didn't bother him.
He had been a warrior. Still was.
A few bruises wouldn't kill them.
But weakness might.
And he wasn't taking any of that back with him.
Silence washed over them, but it was soon to be disrupted.
Celestine stepped into the training grounds, arms folded, eyes scanning the tired Moonveil wolves sprawled across the dirt. Her gaze found Sera, who stood tossing a dagger in the air, catching it with a sharp flick of her wrist.
"The dog's Beta," Celestine called out, her voice sharp and mocking.
Sera's head snapped up. She narrowed her eyes, immediately recognizing the voice. It was the same shrewd woman who'd stormed into the tavern the night Ciara and Zyra nearly tore it apart. Zyra had called her "mother"—but Sera saw no resemblance. None in the way she walked, spoke, or carried herself.
"Who are you calling a dog?" Sera shot back, her tone calm but clearly irritated.
"Who else?" Celestine said with a scoff. "Your Omega leader and the curse she drags behind her. Look around you—this is what she's reduced your pack to. Strays, groveling on foreign soil."
She took a step closer, her voice low. "She even took my daughter with her. Every bond your kind touches turns to ash. Disaster follows you like a scent."
Sera stepped forward, her jaw tight. "Watch your mouth. Say one more thing about my pack or my Omega, and I swear I'll make you regret it."
Celestine laughed dryly. "Fiery, aren't you? Makes me wonder—are you protecting your Omega, or are there feelings buried underneath all that loyalty?"
Sera's face hardened, but she didn't take the bait. Her grip tightened on the dagger, knuckles pale.
Then she raised her voice slightly, not even looking over her shoulder.
"Kael!"
Kael was already nearby, arms crossed, watching everything unfold without a word.
"Make them train till they bleed," Celestine ordered.
She turned to leave, tossing Sera one last smirk. "Keep your dagger ready, Beta. You'll need it for the rogues."
Sera didn't respond. She just stared after her, chest rising and falling, before hurling her dagger into the dirt with a dull thud.
It quivered there, just like the rage buzzing under her skin, she just wanted liora to wake up.
—--------
Somewhere deep in the woods...
Three hooded figures stood gathered around a simmering cauldron, thick fumes spiraling into the night like serpents in the wind. Shadows danced on their faces, their features partially hidden beneath heavy cloaks.
"Did you tell them?" one asked, voice low and calm, though laced with a quiet hunger.
From the trees, a fourth figure stepped forward—head high, eyes gleaming not with fear, but with something darker. Determination. Intoxication. A craving for what was to come.
"Yes," she replied. "Just as we planned. They believed every word."
A moment of silence stretched.
Then, a slow, collective smirk.
"Good," said the first figure. "Very good."
"You've played your part well," murmured another. "And your wish... it will be fulfilled."
The fourth figure tilted her head, watching the bubbling cauldron with unblinking eyes. The glow inside it pulsed—faint red, then deepening like blood in water.
The third figure whispered something ancient, lifting a hand over the brew. The flames hissed in response, licking higher, tasting the promise in the air.
The wind began to howl, swirling dead leaves around their feet—
They all laughed , cackling hard. Deadly plans brewing in their chest.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Inside the Unconscious Realm – Liora and Zyra
Everything was dark. Silent.
Liora slowly opened her eyes and looked around. She wasn't in the packhouse or the battlefield. The ground beneath her was cold and grey, covered in thin mist. Above, a cracked moon glowed faintly in the dark sky.
"Where am I?" she whispered.
Then she saw her.
Zyra stood a few steps away, still and alert. Her silver eyes glowed softly. Behind her, a large jet-black wolf paced — the same wolf that lived within her.
"Zyra?" Liora called out.
Zyra turned, surprised. "Liora?"
Before they could say more, the mist thickened. The air grew colder. A white wolf with glowing blue eyes stepped beside Liora, and the black wolf remained close to Zyra.
Both wolves stood tall, protective, and alert.
Then the ground shifted. A large, ancient tree appeared between them , one half white with blue strips , the other black with silver strips on its barks . Its branches reached for each other… but could never touch.
Strange whispers floated in the air.
"Two souls. One bond. A curse."
Above them, red eyes blinked open in the dark sky , countless, glowing, and still. No faces. Just watchers. And in the mist, tall, hooded figures appeared, silent and unmoving, like shadows that had come to witness something ancient.
Liora's heart pounded. Zyra clenched her fists.
The wolves howled ...loud and long.
A sudden wind blew through the realm, shaking everything. The tree cracked. The ground trembled.
They both covered their ears.....unable to bear the loud sounds and whispers.
And then the silence came
Everything disappeared.
Liora and Zyra collapsed again into darkness.