Chapter Nineteen
Stormclaw slept restlessly beneath the waxing moon. I could feel it in the way the wind whispered across the high towers, in the way even the pups turned in their sleep. Something shifted–unseen, but heavy. Like breath held in a dark room.
I stood on the balcony outside my chambers, arms folded against the cold. Ayla lay curled in her crib behind me, her small frame glowing faintly in the moonlight. There were whispers about her now. The seer’s words still echoed in the halls–marked by the moon spirits.
But tonight, it wasn’t Ayla’s power that haunted me.
It was the dream.%
A man–tall, cloaked in shadow, his eyes a gleaming silver that seemed to pierce the veil between worlds. He didn’t speak, didn’t move, just watched. And yet, I felt a strange… pull. Not fear. Not desire. Something more primal. Like I was being summoned by something ancient, something that had always known me, even if I hadn’t known it.
The dream repeated itself for the third time in a week.
“Selene,” my father’s voice rumbled behind me.
I turned. Garrick looked like he hadn’t slept either. His silver–streaked hair was tousled, his eyes lined with worry.”
“You feel it too,” I said quietly.
He nodded. “There’s movement at our borders. Not just rogues–former Nightfang loyalists. Whispering about Damien. About vengeance.”
“He’s vanished,” I said. “The council declared him rogue, stripped him. He should be crawling somewhere in shame. Instead…”
“Instead, something is rallying the broken pieces he left behind,” Garrick finished grimly. “It’s not just talk. Scouts found old Nightfang warriors camped along the northeastern ridge.”
I clenched my jaw. “He’s rebuilding.”
“Or someone is doing it for him,” Garrick said, stepping beside me. “Someone who wants war.“%
My chest tightened. “Stormclaw won’t bleed for my mistakes.”}
“You weren’t the one who betrayed our laws, our name,” Garrick said fiercely. “You are not the cause of this. But you will be part of the answer.”
I looked up at him. “What do you mean?”
“You’re strong, Selene. You’ve survived what should have broken you. Now, wolves look to you not just as my daughter–but as someone who walks with legacy at her heels. That dream of yours–tell me again.”
So I did. Everything. The silver eyes, the silence, the way it felt less like dreaming and more like… a calling.
Garrick listened with the stillness of an Alpha. When I finished, he was quiet for a long while.
“There are old stories,” he murmured. “About the Keepers of the Wild Paths. Not rogues. Not exiles. Wolves who refused the politics of the modern packs and kept the sacred ways. Guardians. Warriors. Prophets. Some believed they were myth. Others say they were chosen by the moon herself.”
“And you think he’s one of them?“}
“I don’t know. But I do know this–Stormclaw will protect its own. If war is coming, we prepare. But you, Selene… you need more than protection. You need allies.“}
The word settled like weight in my chest. I had spent so long surviving, hiding, seeking vengeance. Now, with Ayla in my arms and blood stirring across the territories, I couldn’t afford to be reactive anymore.
“Do you trust me to lead?” I asked.
Garrick turned to me fully. “I trust you to change the world.”}
And for the first time, I believed it might be true.
-0
By morning, I stood before Stormclaw’s war table. Vivienne, calm and commanding as ever, traced her finger along the map.
“We send envoys to the eastern hill packs,” she said. “They owe your father favors. And they respect bloodline.“}
Garrick nodded. “We begin by forming a protective ring. Not just for defense, but to show unity.“}
I added, “And I’ll go west.”
Vivienne’s brows lifted. “Alone?”
“No. With two guards. Quiet. I want to find out what’s stirring beyond our sight. And…” I hesitated, “I need to know if that dream means something. I need to find him.“%
“You’re not chasing ghosts,” Garrick warned.
“No,” I agreed. “I’m answering a call.“}}
Vivienne met my eyes, and something unspoken passed between us. She believed me–even if she couldn’t explain why.}]
So did 1.8
That night, as I lay beside Ayla’s crib, I watched the moonlight play across her face.
“You’re not just my daughter” I whienered “You’re part of something hinner And I will walk into fire to make sure you grown in a world
11:26 AM
“You’re not just my daughter,” I whispered. “You’re part of something bigger. And I will walk into fire to make sure you grow up in a world where power doesn’t come with pain.”
Her fingers twitched in sleep.}
Somewhere far beyond the forest, a howl echoed–not wild, not rogue. Ancient.”
And in my soul, something stirred in answer.
2/2
