The fortress pulsed with energy. Torches blazed along the ramparts. Warriors rushed through stone corridors, armed and alert. The scent of steel and sweat lingered thick in the air.
Alera stood at the gates, her cloak whipping around her as the wind howled through the mountains. Beside her, Kael's expression was a mask of cold calculation. His silver eyes, always unreadable, now glowed with a quiet fury.
"They're testing our strength," he muttered.
Alera clenched her fists. "The rogues?"
He nodded. "And the Council."
The Council. Alera had heard only whispers about them an ancient order, neither good nor evil, tasked with maintaining balance among supernaturals. But they were feared for one reason: the Hunters. Merciless, bound by no code but their own. And one of them was now approaching.
A scout approached, dust covering his leather armor. "The rogues have pulled back, but they're not retreating. They've surrounded the northern pass. They want something."
"They want her," Kael said without hesitation.
Alera's heart skipped. "Me?"
Kael turned to her, eyes fierce. "They can smell your awakening. Power draws predators."
Before she could respond, a tremor shook the ground. Faint, but unnatural.
Kael growled low in his throat. "They're close. We don't wait for them to strike. We strike first."
He turned to his warriors. "Mount up. We ride now."
Alera followed Kael as he shifted into his Lycan form, an enormous obsidian beast with glowing silver eyes. She shifted as well, her Moonborn form radiating silvery light and primal force. Her claws dug into the earth as they leapt forward, the pack thundering behind them.
They rode under the moonlight, trees flashing past as the wind roared in their ears. Alera could feel the bond between her and Kael vibrating stronger with each step. It wasn't just love—it was something older. A calling.
They reached the northern pass in less than an hour.
The forest there was eerily still.
Then a snarl cut through the silence.
From the shadows, rogues began to appear half-shifted monsters, their fur patchy, eyes red with madness. They circled like vultures, dozens of them, maybe more.
Kael stepped forward, shifting back into human form. His voice cut through the air like a blade. "This is your only warning. Leave. Or die."
A figure stepped forward from behind the rogues. He was tall, dressed in dark armor laced with runes. His face was half-covered with a metal mask, but his eyes glowed an unnatural blue.
"You're bold, Kael," the man said. "But this is bigger than your pride. She is ours."
Alera stepped forward, human again, sweat dampening her brow. "I don't even know who you are."
"You will," the masked man replied. "My name is Varian. Hunter of the Fifth Circle. By order of the Council, you are to be taken in for study and containment. The Moonborn cannot walk freely."
"She is not your prisoner," Kael growled.
"She is a threat," Varian replied coolly. "You know this. The legends say that a Moonborn left unchecked will bring ruin to both wolves and men. We are simply ensuring the world survives her awakening."
Alera's eyes narrowed. "If you truly feared me, you wouldn't bring monsters to do your bidding."
Varian shrugged. "Monsters have their uses."
He raised a hand.
The rogues attacked.
The battlefield erupted in chaos.
Claws met steel. Howls rose to the heavens. Kael tore through three rogues in seconds, his black wolf a blur of motion and muscle. Alera fought beside him, her silver fur shining under the moon, each movement more instinctive than the last.
But there were too many.
Even as she tore through them, more came.
She turned just in time to see Varian raise a rune-inscribed blade—and hurl it toward her.
Kael leapt, intercepting the blade midair.
It sliced across his shoulder, deep and glowing.
"Kael!" Alera screamed.
He grunted but didn't fall. The wound hissed and smoked—enchanted steel.
Varian stepped forward, calm amidst the carnage. "Your king bleeds. Your protector is faltering. Come now, girl. Submit. I can teach you to control the storm inside you."
But Alera wasn't listening.
Something inside her shattered.
Her wolf surged, pulling her into a shift so violent that lightning sparked from her claws. The earth cracked beneath her paws. Wind roared from her body like a cyclone.
Even the rogues hesitated.
Alera opened her mouth, and what left her throat wasn't a growl but a roar of thunder.
Every rogue within thirty feet was flung backward, bones cracking like twigs.
Kael stared from the ground, awe in his eyes. "You're... channeling the moon itself."
Alera didn't know what she was doing. She only knew that Kael was bleeding and Varian had to be stopped.
She ran.
Straight for the Hunter.
Varian raised his blade again—but this time, it shattered in his grip as she struck. Her claws raked across his armor, sending him flying into a boulder with enough force to split stone.
The battle paused.
The rogues, seeing their leader fall, howled in panic and began to scatter.
Kael rose slowly, blood dripping from his arm, but his grin was feral. "Remind me not to piss you off."
Alera didn't laugh. Her whole body trembled from the release of power.
Varian groaned, dragging himself from the rubble. "This... is not over..."
Kael stalked toward him. "No. It's not."
But Alera stopped him. "Let him crawl back to the Council. Let them know what I am. Let them fear what's coming."
Kael stared at her, then nodded.
"Go," he told Varian. "And pray we don't cross paths again."
The Hunter vanished into the woods, leaving only blood and silence behind.
Alera collapsed to her knees. Kael caught her before she hit the ground.
"I didn't know I could do that," she whispered.
"You didn't," Kael said, voice full of wonder. "But now you do."
As the pack gathered around them, many bowing, others whispering her name, Alera realized something had changed.
She was no longer the rejected wolf.
She was Moonborn.
And the world had finally noticed.