Nymera’s POV

Astra’s blade flashed under the moonlight, slicing through the mist as she charged toward me.

I froze, the world narrowing to the glint of steel and the wild fury in her eyes.

Kaelith reacted first. He shoved me aside, throwing himself between us just as Astra lunged. The knife scraped across his arm, blood welling immediately, but he didn’t flinch.

He caught her wrist mid-strike and twisted hard. Astra yelped in pain but didn’t let go. Her other hand swung up, nails clawing for Kaelith’s face.

He barely dodged, grabbing her and trying to pin her down, but Astra was fast—faster than I ever remembered. She ducked under his arm, slashing low.

I stumbled back, heart slamming against my ribs, useless, frozen.

Fight.

Move.

Do something.

The training grounds. The insults. The fists shoving me down.

The faces laughing.

Wolfless.

No.

Not anymore.

I snatched up a thick branch from the ground and gripped it tight, my knuckles whitening.

Kaelith and Astra were still locked in a deadly dance, snarling and circling each other like true wolves even in human skin.

I crept closer, the branch raised high.

Astra spotted me at the last second—but it was too late.

I swung with everything I had.

The branch cracked across her shoulder with a sickening thud. Astra cried out and staggered. Kaelith seized the opening, wrenching the dagger from her hand and tossing it into the trees.

For a breathless moment, none of us moved.

Then Astra laughed—a low, ugly sound that didn’t belong in this forest.

"You think this ends here?" she hissed, cradling her arm. "You think you’ve won?"

"Get out," Kaelith growled. His voice was so raw it didn’t sound human anymore. "Before I forget you were once my friend."

Astra’s gaze flicked to me.

I met her stare, forcing my trembling legs to lock, refusing to show fear.

"You’re dead, Nymera," Astra said, smiling sweetly. "You just don’t know it yet."

Then she turned and melted into the mist, gone as suddenly as she’d appeared.

The woods swallowed her whole.

I sagged against a tree, my heart still racing so hard it hurt.

Kaelith knelt beside me, clutching his bleeding arm. His face was pale under the moonlight, but his eyes were fierce.

"You okay?" he asked, voice rough.

"I think so." I swallowed hard. "You?"

He nodded grimly, but I wasn’t convinced.

"She’s not working alone," Kaelith said, scanning the trees. "There’s more coming."

Fear twisted in my gut. "Where can we go?"

He hesitated, then muttered, "The old Blacksmith’s cabin. No one goes there anymore."

My father’s forge. The place he’d loved, the place they’d burned to ashes after accusing us of betrayal.

I didn’t have time to protest.

Kaelith helped me to my feet, and together we ran.

The ruins of the blacksmith’s cabin loomed ahead, half-swallowed by weeds and ivy. Only the stone hearth still stood intact, a crumbling skeleton of what once was.

Kaelith led me inside what was left of the walls, breathing hard.

I crouched behind the old hearth, hugging my knees to my chest. Every branch that snapped outside made me flinch.

Kaelith paced like a caged animal, muscles taut, blood dripping steadily down his arm.

"You need to bandage that," I said quietly.

"No time." His voice was clipped. He kept glancing toward the woods like he expected Astra to come flying at us again.

A heavy silence stretched between us.

"You didn’t have to help me," I whispered after a moment.

He stopped pacing and looked at me. Really looked.

"I did," he said.

I shook my head, tears stinging my eyes. "After everything—you chose Astra. You chose to believe her over me."

Kaelith’s jaw tightened. "I know."

"Then why?" My voice cracked. "Why now?"

He crouched in front of me, close enough that I could see the bruises blooming under his skin.

"Because I was a fool," he said. His voice was low and fierce, like he hated himself more than anything. "I let pride blind me. I believed the lies I wanted to hear because facing the truth meant admitting I could lose you."

I stared at him, heart thudding painfully.

"Nymera," he said, and his hand hovered near mine but didn’t touch. "I was wrong. About everything. And I don’t expect you to forgive me. But I’m not letting them hurt you again."

I should have hated him. Should have spat in his face.

Instead, all I felt was a deep, aching sadness.

"You can’t protect me from all of them," I said. "Not forever."

His mouth tightened. "I can try."

A sound in the woods—a snap, loud and deliberate.

Kaelith surged to his feet, dragging me up with him.

"Hide," he hissed. "Now."

I pressed myself into the shadows of the hearth as Kaelith stepped into the open, tense and ready.

The mist parted—and four wolves emerged.

Not shifters. Not human.

Full wolves, massive and snarling, teeth bared.

Enforcers.

Sent by the Elders.

My blood ran cold.

Kaelith didn’t hesitate. He shifted mid-step, his bones snapping and reshaping, silver fur exploding across his body.

Even injured, his wolf form was breathtaking—huge, powerful, lethal.

He met the first enforcer with a roar, slamming into it hard enough to shake the ground.

I stayed frozen, too terrified to breathe.

The battle was savage. Fur and blood flew in the air. The wolves circled, snapping and lunging, and Kaelith fought like a demon, but he was outnumbered. Wounded.

I had to do something.

I have to help.

Frantically, I searched the rubble around me. My fingers closed around a shard of metal—part of my father’s old forge. Rusted, jagged, sharp.

I crept forward, heart pounding.

One of the enforcers had Kaelith pinned. His massive jaws closed around Kaelith’s shoulder, forcing him down.

Without thinking, I hurled the shard.

It struck the wolf in the side, not deep, but enough.

The wolf howled and stumbled back. Kaelith seized the moment, tearing free.

But it wasn’t enough.

The biggest wolf—their leader—snarled and lunged straight for me.

I screamed, stumbling backward.

Kaelith was too far. He wouldn’t make it in time.

The wolf’s teeth gleamed inches from my throat.

Then—

A second wolf crashed into the enforcer, slamming it aside.

A black wolf. Sleek, fast, savage.

It snarled once, then shifted—and standing there, bare-chested, bloody, and furious, was Dain Marcus, Alpha of the MoonBlood Pack.

My breath caught in my chest.

What—?

Dain didn't even look at me. His entire focus was on the remaining enforcers.

"You picked the wrong girl to hunt," he said, voice like iron.

And then he launched himself into the fight.

I couldn’t move.

Dain fought like he’d been born for this, faster and stronger than anyone I’d ever seen. Within seconds, two enforcers lay groaning in the dirt, broken and bleeding.

Kaelith, stunned, staggered to my side.

"We have to run," he panted. "Now."

"But—Dain—"

"He’s buying us time!" Kaelith roared. "Move, Nymera!"

He dragged me toward the trees. Behind us, the clearing exploded with snarls and roars, the sound of flesh ripping, bones snapping.

Tears blurred my vision.

I didn’t know who would survive this.

I didn’t even know if I would.

We crashed into the trees—and right into a wall of black-cloaked figures blocking the path. Elders. Warriors.

Waiting for us.

And standing at the center, wearing a smug, triumphant smile—

Astra.

"Going somewhere?" she purred.

Nymera’s POV

Astra’s voice sliced through the mist like a whip.

"Going somewhere?" she repeated, smiling wide enough to show her sharp canines.

Kaelith stepped in front of me, body tense, blood dripping from his wounded arm. His wolf still rippled under his skin, barely held back.

We were surrounded.

The Elders' warriors fanned out in a tight ring, blocking every exit. There was no fighting our way out. Not tonight.

"You have no authority!" Kaelith barked, his voice rough with fury. "This is treason against the royal bloodline!"

The nearest Elder—a gaunt man with eyes like cold iron—stepped forward.

"The Council has spoken," he said. "Nymera Benardine is to be taken into custody for crimes against the Crescent Moon Pack."

"Crimes?" I rasped, stunned. "I didn’t—"

"Silence!" the Elder snapped. "You bring death. You bring division. You are a curse upon us all."

Astra's eyes gleamed with satisfaction.

"Take her," the Elder commanded.

Kaelith lunged—but six warriors tackled him at once, forcing him to the ground. He roared, fighting like a wild thing, but they outnumbered him.

Two warriors grabbed me roughly by the arms.

"No!" Kaelith shouted, struggling against the weight of them. "Don't touch her!"

I was yanked away, dragged toward the waiting Elders as Kaelith's roars echoed behind me.

I fought, kicking and twisting, but it was no use.

"You'll regret this," Kaelith spat, blood running down his face. "The Goddess herself will punish you!"

But the Elders didn’t flinch.

Their verdict had already been written.

The Council chamber reeked of cold stone and old blood.

They shoved me to my knees in the center of the circular room, bound my hands behind my back. Kaelith was nowhere in sight. I didn't know if he was dead or still fighting.

The Elders sat in their high chairs, faces hidden behind silver masks. Watching. Judging.

The High Priestess, cloaked in midnight blue, rose from her throne.

"Nymera Benardine," she intoned, "you stand accused of treason against your pack. Of consorting with enemies. Of sowing death among our ranks."

"I didn’t!" My voice cracked. "I swear it!"

Murmurs rippled through the chamber—disgust, disbelief. No one believed me. Not anymore.

"Enough," the High Priestess said coldly. "Your fate shall be decided by the sacred rite."

The floor beneath me rumbled.

A circle of glowing runes burst to life around me, pulsing with cruel light.

"The Moonfire Trial," the High Priestess declared. "If you are innocent, the fire shall pass over you harmlessly. If guilty—"

She didn’t need to finish.

The punishment was death.

My heart thundered against my ribs. There was no time to beg. No one to save me.

The runes flared brighter. I felt the heat rising.

Across the chamber, Astra leaned casually against a pillar, arms folded, watching with a satisfied smirk.

This was it.

I was going to die.

Unless—

I bit my tongue until I tasted blood, forcing my mind to clear. My father had once whispered something, long ago: Power lives where fear dies.

I sucked in a breath and forced myself to stand.

If I was going to die, it wouldn’t be on my knees.

The High Priestess raised her arms.

"Let the trial begin," she said.

The fire surged toward me, a wall of white-hot heat.

I closed my eyes.

Then—

A roar shook the chamber.

The massive oak doors exploded inward.

Standing there, framed by the smoke and chaos, was Dain Marcus.

Alive. Bloody. Furious.

And not alone.

Behind him, dozens of MoonBlood warriors poured into the chamber, weapons drawn, eyes blazing.

Panic erupted. Warriors screamed. Elders shouted. The fire wavered, the runes sputtering as the ancient magic cracked under the intrusion.

Dain stalked forward like death itself.

"No one touches her," he growled, voice low and deadly. "Not while I breathe."

The High Priestess paled beneath her hood.

"This is an act of war!" she cried.

"So be it," Dain said—and in a flash, he shifted.

A giant black wolf, eyes burning silver.

The MoonBlood pack attacked.

Chaos swallowed the Council chamber.

Screams. Metal against metal. Blood splattering the stone.

Someone cut my bindings. I stumbled to my feet, spinning to find Kaelith beside me, bloodied but alive.

"Come on!" he shouted.

He grabbed my hand and pulled me through the chaos.

We raced across the broken floor, dodging spells and flying weapons, slipping through the gaps as the warriors clashed around us.

Almost there—almost—

A scream tore through the air.

Astra.

I looked back—and froze.

She had Kaelith’s dagger pressed against the throat of a small boy—one of the MoonBlood pups who had followed Dain inside.

"Stop!" Astra shrieked, dragging the boy closer. His tiny fists pounded against her, but she held fast. "Or he dies!"

The battle slowed, the warriors hesitating.

Dain shifted back into human form, blood running down his chest. His face was stone.

"Let him go," Dain said, voice like a winter storm.

Astra laughed—shrill, desperate. "I’ll trade. The brat for Nymera."

I stared at her, heart splitting in two.

If I surrendered, maybe the boy would live. Maybe.

But Astra would kill me.

If I didn’t—

She pressed the blade tighter against the child’s throat.

"Choose, Nymera!" she screamed. "Now!"

Everyone stared at me.

Waiting.

Expecting.

And for the first time, I realized—

This was never just about survival.

This was about who I was going to be.

Broken. Or something more.

I stepped forward, ignoring the hands that tried to hold me back.

"I’ll do it," I said, voice steady.

Dain’s eyes widened. "Nymera, no—"

But I was already moving.

Toward Astra. Toward the blade. Toward whatever death waited for me.

Because if I didn’t fight for them—if I didn’t fight for myself—then Astra had already won.

One step. Two.

I could see the madness in Astra’s eyes now. The cracks. She wasn’t stable. She wasn’t in control.

Three steps.

The boy whimpered.

Four steps.

Close enough.

I locked eyes with the boy—and mouthed a single word.

Run.

The boy understood.

At the exact moment I lunged forward, driving my shoulder into Astra’s chest.

The dagger slashed across my arm—but the boy slipped free, bolting toward Dain.

I crashed to the ground with Astra, grappling for the blade.

She shrieked, twisting like a snake, but rage gave me strength.

I pinned her wrist down, forcing the knife out of her hand.

Astra hissed at me, her face twisted in hatred.

"You should have stayed nothing," she spat.

"I’m not nothing," I whispered back.

And then—behind her—Dain moved.

Quick as a shadow.

Before Astra could react, he pressed his blade to her throat.

"Enough," he said coldly.

And this time, Astra didn't fight.

She just laughed.

Low. Broken. Terrifying.

"You think it’s over?" she whispered.

Her eyes flicked toward the Elders—toward a hooded figure I hadn’t noticed before.

"You have no idea what’s coming."

The hooded figure raised a crossbow—

—and fired straight at Dain.