Strength defines worth. Power determines survival. That’s what the Iron Pack elders whispered to Carol since she could walk. But when you’re born without a wolf in a world that worships the beast within, you learn that mercy is just another word for weakness. And weakness earns you a place at the executioner’s block.

 The morning Carol was sentenced to die. The sky wept crimson. Not metaphorically, the dawn actually bled red across the horizon, as if nature itself recoiled from what was about to happen. She stood in the center of the packstone circle, wrists bound with silver chains that burned against her skin, surrounded by hundreds of wolves who’d once called her sister.

 Now they called her abomination. Carol Ashford, Alpha Donovan’s voice boomed across the clearing. Each word a hammer strike against her chest. You stand accused of the highest crime our kind can commit existing without the blessing of the moon goddess. You are wolfless. You are broken.

 and broken things have no place in the Iron Pack. Carol’s knees trembled, but she refused to fall. Not yet. Not in front of them. Chapter 1. The Wolfless Outcast. The first time Carol realized she was different. She was 7 years old. It was the night of the awakening ceremony when all wolf pups felt their beasts stir for the first time.

 The entire pack had gathered in the sacred clearing, watching as one by one children her age felt the first tremors of transformation, eyes flashing amber, claws extending, the euphoric rush of connection to something primal and powerful. Carol had stood in the center circle for 3 hours, waiting for something, anything to happen. Nothing did.

 Her mother, Elena, had gripped her shoulders so tightly it left bruises. Focus, Carol. Reach deeper. Call to your wolf. She’s there. She has to be there. But there was only silence. An empty space where everyone else felt a living, breathing presence. By midnight, even her mother had stopped trying. The pack’s healer, old mother Rena, had examined her with increasingly desperate methods.

 Herbs that made her vomit for days, rituals that left scorch marks on her skin, prayers to the moon goddess that went unanswered. I’m sorry, Rena had finally said her voice heavy with something that sounded like grief. The child has no wolf. She is incomplete. That was the kindest word anyone used.

 Her twin sister, Lisa, had awakened a pure silver wolf that same night. Beautiful, powerful, everything Carol was not. Within a year, Lisa stopped acknowledging Carol in public. Within two, she joined the other packed children in their cruel games. Wolfless freak. They’d chant, circling her like predators around wounded prey. The moon goddess rejected you.

 Even your own beast didn’t want you. Carol learned to endure. She became invisible. A ghost haunting the edges of pack life while other children trained in combat and hunting. She worked in the kitchens, scrubbing pots until her fingers bled. While they ran wild under the full moon, howling their joy to the sky.

 She locked herself in her room and pressed her hands over her ears, trying to drown out the sound of the belonging she’d never know. But she survived for 18 years. She survived until 3 days ago when everything changed. It started with missing livestock. Three sheep found torn apart at the northern border, their bodies mangled in a way that suggested a rogue wolf attack.

 Then a traveling merchant reported seeing a pale creature lurking near the trade routes at night. The pack went on high alert. Patrols doubled. Tensions rose. Then Lissa’s mate, Garrett, the alpha’s son and heir, was found unconscious near the river. Claw marks raking his chest, barely alive. When he woke, delirious with fever, he said one word. Carol.

 The pack exploded into chaos. Impossible. Carol had gasped when the guards dragged her before the Alpha’s council. I don’t have a wolf. How could I? Perhaps that’s exactly why Alpha Donovan had interrupted his eyes cold as Winter Stone. Perhaps your twisted nature has corrupted you into something worse than wolfless. Something that attacks in the shadows, driven by jealousy in spite.

 I would never Garrett and I have barely spoken in years. Jealousy needs no conversation. Lisa had stepped forward, tears streaming down her perfect face. You’ve always hated me for having what you lack. Now you’ve tried to destroy what I love. The words hit harder than any physical blow. Lissa, please. Carol’s voice cracked. We’re sisters. You know I wouldn’t.

 You stopped being my sister the day you proved you weren’t one of us. Lissa’s voice was ice. You’re a parasite. A defect that should have been called years ago. The council had deliberated for exactly 4 minutes. Execution. Dawn. 3 days hence. public as a warning to any others who might harbor darkness in their hearts.

 No trial, no investigation, just the word of the alpha’s future son-in-law, and the convenient scapegoat who’d never belonged anyway. They locked her in the dungeons beneath the pack house stone walls that swallowed sound, silver bars that made her skin blister just from proximity. No food, no water, no visitors except the guard who came each evening to remind her of tomorrow’s sunrise.

 should have drowned you as a pup. He’d sneered through the bars. Would have been a mercy. Perhaps he was right. Carol sat in the darkness back against the cold wall and finally let herself break. Sobs racked her body ugly and desperate. She’d spent 18 years trying to prove she deserved to exist despite her defect. 18 years of swallowing insults, enduring isolation, working twice as hard for half the respect. And for what? to die alone.

Accused of a crime she didn’t commit. Murdered by the only family she’d ever known. Moon goddess, she whispered into the dark, her voice raw. If you’re real, if you ever cared about me at all, please just tell me why. Why did you make me this way? Why give me life just to make it torture? The darkness offered no answer. It never did.

 They came for her when the sky began to lighten six guards as if she posed any threat. They hauled her from the cell, wrists already bound, and marched her through the pack house, past the kitchens where she’d worked, past the training yards where she’d watched from the shadows, past her mother’s quarters, where the door remained firmly, deliberately shut.

Elena hadn’t visited, hadn’t spoken a single word in Carol’s defense. Her own mother had chosen silence, and somehow that hurt worse than the death sentence. The stone circle was already packed when they arrived. Hundreds of wolves all there to watch the broken thing finally break completely. Carol searched the crowd for a single friendly face.

 One person who might question this madness. There were none. Even old mother Rena stood with her lips pressed tight, eyes averted. The few pack members who’d shown Carol small kindnesses over the years, a gentle word here, a shared meal there now looked through her as if she’d already ceased to exist.

 Only one person watched her with something other than contempt or indifference. Alpha Donovan’s younger brother, Darius, stood at the edge of the circle. His silver eyes met hers for just a moment, and something flickered in their depths. Regret doubt before he looked away. It didn’t matter. One person’s doubt wouldn’t save her. Carol Ashford, Alpha Donovan, began his speech, and Carol forced herself to listen, even as her heart tried to pound its way out of her chest. You stand accused of the highest crime our kind can commit existing without the blessing of the moon

goddess. “You are wolfless. You are broken. And broken things have no place in the Iron Pack.” “I’m innocent,” Carol said, hating how her voice shook. “I never hurt Garrett.” “I never hurt anyone. Your existence hurts us all.” Lisa stepped forward, playing her role perfectly.

 The grieving mate, the protective sister who’d finally had enough. You’re a reminder that even the moon goddess makes mistakes. That our bloodlines can produce failures. The crowd murmured agreement. Please. Carol tried one last time. Looking at her mother in the crowd. Mom, you know me. You raised me. Tell them I’m not capable of this. Elena’s face remained stone. She said nothing. The sentence is death.

Alpha Donovan declared by silver blade through the heart as is tradition for traitors and rogues. Do you have any final words? Carol looked at the sky, that bleeding crimson dawn, and something inside her cracked open, not broke opened like a door she’d never known existed, suddenly swinging wide.

 “I forgive you,” she said quietly and meant it. “All of you, for making me believe I was worthless, for teaching me to hate myself. for deciding I didn’t deserve to live simply because I didn’t fit your definition of normal. She met Lissa’s eyes. I forgive you most of all, sister, because you’ll have to live with this moment for the rest of your life, and I won’t. Something flickered in Lisa’s expression.

 Guilt perhaps, or shame, but it vanished quickly. Execute her, Alpha Donovan commanded. Now the executioner stepped forward. a mountain of a man named Thorne carrying a silver blade that gleamed in the dawn light. He positioned himself behind Carol. Raising the blade above his head, Carol closed her eyes.

 At least it will be quick, she thought. At least the pain will finally blade descended. And something inside, Carol screamed. Chapter 2. The awakening. The blade never touched her. One moment. Carol was bracing for the killing blow. Silver flashing in the crimson dawn. The next the world exploded into white light so brilliant it burned away thought itself. Power erupted from somewhere deep in her core.

Not the empty silence she’d lived with for 18 years, but a roaring inferno of pure energy that felt like lightning and starlight. And the fury of a thousand storms compressed into a single devastating moment. Carol’s eyes snapped open, glowing silver white, and she screamed. But it wasn’t her voice that tore from her throat.

 It was something older, wilder, something that had been sleeping in the deepest parts of her soul, waiting for this exact moment to wake. The silver chains shattered like glass. The executioner’s blade melted in his hands.

 Molten silver dripping onto the stone as he stumbled backward, terror replacing his cold efficiency, and Carol’s body began to change. Bones cracked and reformed with sounds like breaking thunder. Her skin rippled, sprouting fur that wasn’t just white. It was luminescent, glowing with an inner light that cast shadows backward. Her spine arched, extending, reshaping.

 Her face elongated into a muzzle filled with teeth that gleamed like polished silver. The transformation took seconds, but felt like eternity. Every cell in her body rewriting itself, becoming something the Iron Pack had never seen before. When it was done, Carol stood on four legs in the center of the execution circle, and the entire pack recoiled in unified shock.

 She was massive, larger than even the alpha’s wolf form, standing nearly 6 ft at the shoulder. Her fur was pure white, shot through with silver patterns that moved like liquid moonlight across her body. Her eyes blazed with that same silver white radiance, ancient and terrible and beautiful.

 Most shocking of all, above her head, visible even in the dawn light, a perfect full moon seemed to hover in the air. A manifestation of power that only existed in the oldest legends. The mark of a Luna wolf. Impossible. Alpha Donovan breathed. His face drained of color. Luna wolves are extinct. They died out centuries ago. But the evidence stood before him, very much alive and radiating power that made the air itself crackle with energy.

Carols wolf looked down at her paws. these massive powerful paws that had appeared from nowhere and felt a presence in her mind that was entirely new yet somehow familiar. A voice that was her own but also not ancient and young at once. Finally, the voice purred with satisfaction. I thought we’d never get to wake up. Who are you? Carol’s human consciousness asked, still reeling. Who do you think? I’m you.

 The part of you that’s been sleeping because you weren’t ready. because we weren’t in danger enough. The wolf only wakes when the human needs her most. And you, little sister, have needed me for a very long time. The wolf’s attention shifted outward, taking in the hundreds of pack members who’d been screaming for their death moments ago.

 Now they stood frozen, caught between primal terror and absolute disbelief. Lisa had fallen to her knees, face pale as death. No, no, this can’t be real. She’s wolfless. She’s always been wolfless. This is some kind of trick. The white wolf’s gaze locked onto her twin, and Lissa’s words died in her throat. Should we show them what a trick really looks like? The wolf asked Carol’s human mind.

 A dangerous edge to her tone. No, Carol thought firmly, even as rage and betrayal burned in her chest. We’re not like them. We don’t kill people just because we can. Pity, the wolf mused. But you’re right. We’re better than this. The white wolf threw back her head and howled. The sound was like nothing the iron pack had ever heard.

 Not the typical wolf howl they’d grown up with, but something that resonated on a frequency that bypassed ears entirely and struck straight to the soul. It was command and warning and promise all at once, carrying across the territory and beyond, announcing to any creature with the sense to listen. Something ancient had awakened, and the world had better pay attention.

 When the howl faded, the silence it left behind was absolute. Alpha Donovan recovered first, his face hardening into the mask of authority he wore so well. Sees her. Whatever she is, she’s still a traitor to this pack. We’ll study this phenomenon after she’s dead. The guards hesitated.

 Every instinct they possessed screamed at them not to approach the glowing white wolf that radiated power like a second son. I said, “Seees her.” Donovan roared, his alpha command cracking like a whip. The command should have compelled obedience. Alpha authority was absolute impact hierarchy. But Carols wolf felt the command wash over them like water off fur.

Completely ineffective. Interesting. The wolf observed. His authority doesn’t touch us. We’re outside his hierarchy entirely. Before the guards could move, Darius stepped forward, placing himself between the white wolf and his brother. Stop. Everyone, just stop. Move aside, Darius. Donovan growled. No.

 Darius’s silver eyes were fixed on Carol’s wolf form with something like wonder. Brother, do you not understand what you’re seeing? Luna wolves weren’t just rare or powerful. They were the moon goddess’s chosen. Her direct representatives on Earth. Their authority superseded even alphas. That’s legend. Donovan snapped.

 Children’s stories. Is it? Darius gestured to Carol. She’s standing right there, marked with the moon itself, radiating power that makes our strongest warriors want to submit. When was the last time you saw something like this in a children’s story? She attacked Garrett. Did she? Darius’s voice dropped. Dangerous and quiet.

 Or did we simply need someone to blame, and she was convenient? The accusation hung in the air like poison gas. Garrett, who’d been standing beside Lisa, went very still. A muscle twitched in his jaw. Carol’s wolf noticed. He’s hiding something. The wolf observed. Look at him. He reeks of guilt and fear. Carol’s human consciousness focused on her sister’s mate. Seeing him clearly for the first time, the way he wouldn’t meet anyone’s eyes directly.

The way his hands trembled slightly before he shoved them in his pockets. the way he positioned himself slightly behind Lissa as if using her as a shield. “What did you do, Garrett?” Carol wondered. “But before she could pursue that thought, old mother Rena pushed through the crowd, moving with surprising speed for someone her age.

She approached the white wolf without fear, eyes wide with something between terror and reverence. “Blessed,” she whispered, dropping to her knees. “I’ve lived 87 years, and I never thought I’d see this with my own eyes. Mother Rena, get back. Donovan started. Be silent, boy. Rena snapped with an authority that actually made the alpha flinch.

 You were about to execute a Luna wolf. Do you have any concept of what that would have brought down upon this pack? She was wolfless. She was dormant. Rena corrected sharply. Luna wolves don’t awaken like normal wolves, you fool. They sleep until their human vessel is strong enough to contain their power. Usually that’s around age 25 or 30.

 The fact that hers woke at 18, under mortal threat, she looked at Carol’s wolf with something like pity. The trauma must have been extraordinary. 18 years of it, Carol thought bitterly. 18 years of being called broken, worthless, a mistake. 18 years of cruelty and isolation and being told she didn’t deserve to exist. Yeah, the trauma had been extraordinary.

 We should leave,” the wolf said suddenly. “These people don’t deserve us. They tried to kill us. We owe them nothing. Where would we go?” Carol asked. “We don’t know anything outside this pack. Then well learn,” the wolf replied simply. “The world is bigger than this place, little sister. And we’re finally strong enough to see it.

” The white wolf took a step backward away from the crowd, away from the execution circle that still bore the scorch marks of her transformation. Wait, Darius called out. Carol, please don’t run. The pack owes you. The pack owes me nothing. Carol’s wolf spoke and everyone gasped because Luna wolves could do that.

 Speak in human tongue while in beast form, another gift of their divine heritage. Her voice was layered, harmonics that made the air shimmer. You owed me 18 years ago when I was a child who needed protection and understanding. You owed me every day after when I worked and served and tried so desperately to earn the acceptance that should have been my birthright.

 Her glowing eyes swept the crowd and pack members flinched away from her gaze. You owed me three days ago when you sentenced me to death without trial without proof because it was easier to kill the outsider than question your precious heir. Garrett went pale. But you gave me nothing. Carol continued, her voice ringing with power and pain. So now I owe you the same. Nothing.

Carol, I’m sorry. Elena finally spoke, pushing through the crowd, tears streaming down her face. Baby, I’m so sorry. I was scared. I didn’t know what to do. You were my mother,” Carol’s wolf said quietly. And the pain in those words could have shattered stone. “You should have protected me. You should have believed me. You should have stood beside me when everyone else turned away. But you chose silence.

 You chose them over me. So now I choose myself.” Elena collapsed, sobbing. But Carol had no comfort left to give her. The white wolf turned to leave and froze. Because standing at the edge of the clearing, having arrived without anyone noticing in the chaos, was a man who radiated power that made even Alpha Donovan look weak by comparison.

 He was tall, broad-shouldered, with midnight black hair and eyes that gleamed gold, the mark of an alpha in their prime. He wore traveling clothes covered in road dust, and his expression was one of absolute shock. “Blessed moon,” he breathed. The prophecy was true. “Who are you?” Alpha Donovan demanded, though his voice lacked its usual authority.

 The stranger’s power was palpable, making even the strongest wolves in the Iron Pack instinctively want to bear their throats in submission. Rowan Blackthornne, the stranger replied, never taking his eyes off Carol’s glowing white wolf. Alpha of the Northern Territories, and I’ve been searching for her for the last 3 years.

 Carols wolf tensed, ready to run or fight. She hadn’t survived this long to fall into yet another trap. Easy, her human consciousness cautioned. Let’s hear what he wants first. Searching for me? Carol’s wolf asked wearily. Why? Rowan’s golden eyes softened with something that looked almost like relief.

 Because 3 years ago, the moon goddess herself appeared to me in a vision. She told me that the last luna wolf would awaken in my lifetime and that my pack’s survival, possibly the survival of all wolf kind, would depend on finding her. He took a step forward, hands raised in a gesture of peace.

 She told me the Luna wolf would be broken before she was whole, rejected before she was accepted, that she would rise from execution to become the most powerful wolf in generations. His voice dropped, reverent and certain, she told me that when I found you, I should offer you what no one else had, a choice, a place where your power would be celebrated, not feared, where you could learn what you truly are without persecution or judgment.

 He lowered himself to one knee before the white wolf, bowing his head in a gesture of absolute respect. Carol Ashford, Luna Wolf, blessed of the moon goddess, I offer you sanctuary in the Northern Territories. Not as a subordinate, but as an equal, not as a pack member, but as a partner in protecting our kind from the darkness that’s coming.

 Darkness? Darius asked sharply. What darkness? Rowan’s expression grew grim. Rogues are organizing. Hunters have discovered weapons that can kill us despite our healing. And something older, something far worse is stirring in the deep places of the world.

 We’ve had three border packs go completely silent in the last 6 months. Every wolf vanished without a trace. A murmur of unease rippled through the Iron Pack. The prophecy says only a Luna wolf can stand against what’s coming. Rowan continued, his eyes returning to Carol. I don’t know if that’s true, but I do know that you deserve better than what this pack gave you.

 and I’m offering you the chance to find out who you really are away from people who spent 18 years telling you who you weren’t. Carol’s wolf in human consciousness conferred silently. It could be a trap. Carol’s human side warned. Maybe, the wolf agreed. But staying here is definitely a trap. At least this way we’re choosing our own danger.

 You think we should trust him? I think we should trust ourselves, the wolf replied. We’re not that scared, powerless girl anymore. We’re a Luna wolf. Whatever comes, we can face it. Carol felt the truth of those words settle into her bones. The white wolf looked at Rowan, then at the iron pack at her mother, still sobbing on the ground, at Lissa’s pale face, at Alpha Donovan’s barely contained fury, at Darius’s conflicted expression.

 These people had raised her, broken her, tried to kill her, but they didn’t own her anymore. I accept your offer, Alpha Rowan, Carol said, her layered voice ringing clear. I’ll come to the Northern Territories. I’ll learn what I am and I’ll face whatever darkness is coming. She looked at Alpha Donovan one last time.

 But understand this, I’m not running away. I’m walking towards something better. And if your pack faces trouble in the future, don’t expect the wolf you tried to execute to come save you. Rowan stood, a slight smile crossing his face. Then we should leave before anyone decides to do something stupid like try to stop you.

 They’re welcome to try,” Carol’s wolf said with a flash of silver teeth. No one moved. The white wolf padded toward Rowan, and the crowd parted like water before a ship’s prow. As she passed her mother, Elena reached out a trembling hand. “Carol, please.” “I love you. I always loved you.” “Not enough,” Carol said simply and kept walking. When she reached Rowan, he shifted smoothly into his own wolf form.

 a massive black beast with those golden eyes, powerful but noticeably smaller than Carol’s Luna form. Together, they turned toward the forest beyond the pack territory. Carol, wait. Darius called out. If you’re right about Garrett, if he framed you, I’ll find the truth. I promise you that. Carol’s wolf paused, looking back. Then you’re a better wolf than your brother, Darius. Good luck with that.

 And with those final words, the white Luna Wolf and the Black Alpha disappeared into the trees, leaving chaos and confusion and the smoking ruins of everything the Iron Pack thought they knew about the world. In the execution circle, Garrett watched them go, and his hands wouldn’t stop shaking because three nights ago, when he’d been attacked, he hadn’t been alone in those woods.

 And the creature that had actually clawed him, the one with the mangled silver fur and the scent of dark magic and death, had whispered something in his ear before vanishing. Tell anyone what you really saw, pup, and we’ll come back for your mate. Stay silent, blame the convenient scapegoat, and your pretty little Lissa lives. Choose. So Garrett had chosen silence.

 Had chosen to let an innocent girl die to save the one he loved. He’d thought it was over. But as he watched the most powerful wolf he’d ever seen disappear into the forest, power radiating from her like a second son, Garrett realized with cold, creeping horror that it was only just beginning. Whatever was hunting in the darkness, it had wanted Carol dead before she could awaken. They’d failed.

 And now a Luna wolf walked the earth for the first time in 300 years. With an alpha who believed in prophecies at her side, Garrett closed his eyes and prayed to the moon goddess that when the darkness came and it would come, the wolf they tried to execute would have a short memory. He suspected she wouldn’t. Chapter 3.

 The Northern Territories. They ran for 3 days. Not out of fear, Carol could feel the power thrumming through her Luna Wolf form, making exhaustion almost impossible. They ran because the forest called to something primal in her newly awakened beast. And for the first time in her life, Carol had the freedom to answer. Rowan led them through territories Carol had never seen.

 Paths that wound through ancient woods where the trees grew so thick that sunlight became a rare luxury. They crossed rivers that ran crystal clear, leaped over ravines that would have terrified her human form, and climbed mountains that scraped the belly of the sky.

 And through it all, Carol’s wolf reveled in the simple, overwhelming joy of finally existing as she was meant to. This is what they stole from us, her wolf whispered as they crested yet another ridge. The wind carrying sense of pine and stone and freedom. 18 years of this. 18 years of running and hunting and being alive. We’re alive now, Carols human consciousness replied and felt her wolf’s fierce agreement. They stopped only briefly to rest and hunt and hunting.

 Carol discovered came as naturally to her Luna form as breathing. Her senses were so sharp she could track a rabbit’s heartbeat from a hundred yards away. Her speed made catching prey almost embarrassingly easy. And her wolf’s instincts guided her through the kill with efficient, respectful precision. We thank you for your sacrifice, her wolf murmured.

 To each creature they took, an ancient prayer that rose unbidden. May your spirit run free in the moon goddess’s eternal hunt. Rowan watched her with those calculating golden eyes, but he asked no questions, made no demands. He simply led and let her follow at her own pace.

 On the afternoon of the third day, they finally crossed into the northern territories. Carol felt the change immediately, not just in the landscape, though the mountains here were taller and more imposing, their peaks crowned with snow. Even in late summer, the very air felt different, charged with a wild energy that made her fur stand on end. This place has power, her wolf observed.

Old power. Can you feel it? Carol could. It thrummed beneath her paws like a second heartbeat. Ancient and patient and vast. Rowan shifted back to human form, and Carol followed suit her first transformation back since the awakening. It was smoother than she’d expected, her body remembering how to reshape itself with unsettling ease.

 She stood on two legs again, naked and covered in a fine sheen of sweat, and for the first time really looked at where they’d arrived. The Northern Pac territory was nothing like the Iron Packs carefully manicured lands. This was wilderness in its purest form, towering pines that had stood for centuries, cliffs of black stone that jutted toward the sky like broken teeth, waterfalls that roared with primal fury.

 In the distance, she could see the pack’s main settlement nestled in a valley. But even from here, it looked different, less like a suburban neighborhood trying to pretend it was normal and more like a fortress carved from the mountain itself. “It’s not what you’re used to,” Rowan said, pulling spare clothes from a pack he’d stashed at the border. He tossed her a shirt and pants without ceremony. “We don’t pretend to be human here.

 We embrace what we are.” Carol dressed quickly, grateful for the coverage. “How many wolves?” about 300 in the main pack, another hundred scattered across the territory in smaller satellite communities. We’re the largest pack in the northern regions, which is why the disappearances have everyone on edge.

 “Tell me about them,” Carol said as they began walking toward the settlement. “The disappearances,” Rowan’s expression darkened. “6 months ago, the Frost Creek pack, about 50 wolves, mostly families, went silent. We thought maybe they’d migrated or disbanded, though that’s unusual. Then 3 months ago, the same thing happened to the Silver Ridge Pack.

70 wolves vanished overnight. No bodies, no signs of struggle, just empty territory. He paused at the edge of a cliff, looking out over his lands. Two months ago, we sent a scouting party to investigate. Only one wolf came back, and he was half mad, babbling about shadows that walked like wolves and eyes that glowed like dying stars.

 He kept screaming that they’re eating souls before he threw himself off a cliff. Carol felt ice creep down her spine. “And you think this is connected to me, to Luna wolves?” “The moon goddess’s vision was clear,” Rowan said quietly. “She showed me packs disappearing into darkness.

 She showed me something ancient waking, something that predates even our kind. And she showed me a white wolf standing against it, the only light in an ocean of shadow. He looked at her directly. I don’t know what’s coming, Carol. But I know it’s not random rogue attacks or hunters with new weapons. It’s something else. Something that requires a Luna wolf to fight.

 I don’t even know how to be a Luna Wolf, Carol admitted. I’ve had my wolf for 3 days. Before that, I was the weakest, most pathetic member of my pack. No, Rowan corrected firmly. Before that, you survived 18 years of abuse and isolation without breaking. You maintained your humanity while everyone around you tried to strip it away. That’s not weakness, Carol. That’s the strongest thing I’ve ever heard of.

 The words struck something deep in Carol’s chest, a wound she hadn’t realized was still bleeding. Come on, Rowan said, starting down the path. Let’s get you settled before the pack gathers for dinner. Fair warning, they’re going to be intense about meeting you. That was an understatement.

 The northern pack’s main hall was a massive structure built directly into the mountain side, half cave and half architecture with soaring ceilings supported by pillars of carved stone. When Carol entered, following Rowan through the enormous doors, conversation died instantly. Hundreds of wolves turned to stare.

 Unlike the Iron Pack’s cold rejection, these wolves looked at her with awe, curiosity, and most surprising hope. Several of the older wolves actually dropped to one knee, heads bowed in a gesture of respect that made Carol deeply uncomfortable. “Please don’t do that,” she said quickly. “I’m not. I don’t need. They’re not bowing to you,” an elderly woman’s voice interrupted.

 She emerged from the crowd, leaning on a gnarled walking stick, her hair white as snow and her eyes sharp as broken glass. They’re bowing to what you represent. Luna wolves were our protectors for millennia before they vanished. These wolves are honoring that legacy, not you personally. Yet, the word yet hung in the air like a challenge. Carol, this is Elder Mora, Rowan introduced.

 She’s our Pax historian and spiritual leader. If anyone knows about Luna Wolves, it’s her. Mora circled Carol slowly, studying her with unnerving intensity. 18 years dormant. That’s unusual. Most Luna wolves manifest by age 10, though they don’t fully mature until their mid20s.

 What kept your sleeping so long? I don’t know, Carol admitted. The Iron Pax healer said, “I had no wolf at all. The Iron Packs healer was an idiot,” Mora said bluntly. “Luna wolves don’t show up on normal spiritual examinations because they exist on a different frequency entirely. They’re not pack wolves. Their goddess touched divine instruments wearing mortal flesh.” She tapped her walking stick against the stone floor.

The question is, why did yours wake during an execution? Luna wolves typically awaken gradually during times of meditation or spiritual connection. Violent emergencies usually kill the human vessel before the wolf can surface. Maybe I’m more stubborn than most vessels, Carol suggested dryly. A smile ghosted across Mora’s weathered face. Perhaps.

 Or perhaps the moon goddess decided you’d suffered enough and gave you the power to end it. The goddess works in mysterious ways, but she’s rarely cruel without purpose. Could have fooled me, Carol thought bitterly, remembering 18 years of isolation. Her wolf stirred defensive. She gave us power when we needed it most. She let us survive until we were strong enough to transform. That’s not cruelty, that’s strategy.

 Before Carol could respond, a younger wolf pushed through the crowd. a girl who couldn’t be more than 16 with bright copper hair and freckles scattered across her cheeks like stars. “Is it true you glowed?” she asked breathlessly, ignoring the disapproving looks from the older wolves during your transformation.

 “The rumors say you lit up like the moon itself and shattered silver chains with just your presence.” “Sier manners,” Rowan warned, but there was amusement in his voice. “It’s fine,” Carol said, surprising herself. The girl’s enthusiasm was refreshing after days of heavy prophecies and dark warnings. “Yes,” I glowed. “And yes,” the chains broke.

Though I’m not sure if that was me or my wolf or some combination. “It’s the Luna blessing,” Mora explained. “Your presence sanctifies silver, transforms it from a weapon against our kind into something harmless to you specifically. It’s one of many gifts you’ll discover as you grow into your power.

” “How many gifts are we talking about?” Carol asked wearily. Mora’s expression grew serious. Historically, Luna wolves could heal mortal wounds with their presence, communicate across vast distances through moonlight, sense darkness and corruption in other wolves, command lesser beasts, walk in dreams, and most importantly, channel the moon goddess’s power directly in times of great need. She paused, letting that sink in.

 But power always comes with a price. Luna wolves burned bright and died young. Most didn’t live past 40. The responsibility, the constant spiritual warfare, the burden of being everyone’s savior and protector, it consumed them. “Well, that’s cheerful,” Carol muttered. “I don’t tell you this to frighten you,” Mora said.

 “I tell you because you need to understand what you’ve become. You’re not just a powerful wolf child. You’re a weapon the moon goddess created to fight things normal wolves can’t even perceive. And weapons, no matter how beautiful, exist to be used. The words settled over Carol like a shroud. She’s right, her wolf said quietly. We were made for battle.

 I can feel it in every fiber of our being. This isn’t just strength, it’s purpose. I never asked for this purpose, Carol thought back. No one asks to be chosen, her wolf replied. But we were and we can either accept it or spend our lives running from what we are. We’ve done enough running.

 Rowan must have sensed Carol’s distress because he smoothly redirected the conversation. Mora. Carol’s been traveling for 3 days. Perhaps the history lessons can wait until after she’s eaten and rested. Of course, Mora said, though her eyes remained fixed on Carol. But tomorrow we begin training. If what’s hunting in the darkness knows a Luna wolf has awakened, it will come for you and you need to be ready.

 They gave Carol a room in the pack house, not a cell this time, but actual quarters with windows that overlook the valley, a real bed with thick furs and privacy she hadn’t experienced in years. After a meal where dozens of pack members had tried to talk to her simultaneously, the silence felt like a blessing.

 She stood at the window, watching moonlight paint the mountains silver and finally let herself feel the full weight of the last 3 days. She’d been executed. She’d awakened as a creature of legend. She’d abandoned the only home she’d ever known.

 And now she was supposed to save Wolfkind from some undefined darkness while learning to use powers she didn’t understand. Overwhelming, she thought to her wolf. Terrifying, the wolf agreed. but also exciting. For the first time, we have a purpose beyond just surviving. We matter. We always mattered, Carol insisted. Did we? The wolf challenged gently. Or did we just tell ourselves that to make the pain bearable? Carol didn’t have an answer.

 A knock at the door interrupted her spiraling thoughts. She opened it to find Rowan standing there, two cups of something steaming in his hands. thought you might need this, he said, offering her one. It’s chamomile tea with honey. Helps with the post transformation jitters.

 Carol accepted it gratefully, surprised by the thoughtfulness. Thank you. They stood in awkward silence for a moment before Rowan spoke again. I know this is a lot. I know you didn’t choose any of this, and I know I’m asking you to trust strangers about a prophecy you have no reason to believe is real. He met her eyes, and his expression was open, honest.

 But I want you to know you’re safe here. Not as a weapon or a tool or a prophesied savior, just as Carol, a wolf who’s been through hell and deserves a chance to figure out who she is without everyone telling her who she should be. The words cracked something open in Carol’s chest. Why? She asked, her voice rough. Why do you care? You don’t know me.

 For all you know, the Iron Pack was right. And I’m dangerous. Because 3 years ago, the moon goddess showed me more than just the prophecy,” Rowan said quietly. “She showed me your life. Every moment of cruelty, every instance of rejection, every time you begged for acceptance that never came, she showed me a child who deserved better and got nothing.” His jaw tightened.

 She told me that if I found you, I needed to give you what no one else had, a choice. So, here it is. You can train with Mora, learn your powers, face whatever’s coming, or you can rest, heal, figure yourself out, and decide later. Either way, you have a home here for as long as you want it. Carol stared at him, searching for the catch, the hidden agenda, the inevitable betrayal. She found nothing but sincerity.

 I’ll train, she heard herself say, not because of the prophecy or because I think I’m special, but because for 18 years I was powerless. And I never want to feel that way again. Rowan nodded slowly. Then we start tomorrow. Get some rest, Luna Wolf. He turned to leave, then paused. For what it’s worth, I think the moon goddess chose well.

 After he left, Carol stood alone in her room, moonlight streaming through the window and felt something she hadn’t experienced in so long she’d almost forgotten what it was called. Hope tomorrow would bring training in prophecies and dark warnings about shadows that ate souls. But tonight, for the first time in 18 years, Carol went to sleep feeling like maybe, just maybe, she was exactly where she was meant to be. Chapter 4. Training and shadows.

 Dawn broke cold and merciless over the northern territories. Carol woke to someone pounding on her door with enough force to rattle the hinges. She stumbled out of bed, disoriented, and opened it to find Sarah, the enthusiastic copper-haired girl from last night, grinning like a lunatic. Training starts in 20 minutes. Sarah announced cheerfully.

 Elder Mora doesn’t believe in easing people in gently. Also, you might want to eat something. You’re going to need the energy. Before Carol could respond, Sierra thrust a bundle of clothes at her practical leather pants, a fitted tunic, and boots that looked like they’d actually survive a fight, then disappeared down the hallway.

 20 minutes later, Carol found herself standing in a massive training yard carved into the mountain side. The space was easily twice the size of the Iron Packs training grounds with sections dedicated to different combat styles, obstacle courses that looked genuinely dangerous, and what appeared to be actual weapons mounted on the walls. Mora waited in the center, looking far too alert for someone who had to be at least 70 years old.

 “You’re late,” Mora said as Carol approached. “I didn’t know the exact excuses are for wolves who haven’t learned that seconds matter in combat. If something attacks you, it won’t wait for you to finish breakfast and find the right outfit. Carol bit back a retort. Patience, her wolf counseledled. She’s testing us now. Then, Mora continued, circling Carol like a predator, evaluating prey.

 What do you know about Luna wolves? That they’re extinct? That they were powerful? That apparently I am one? Useless answers, Mora said dismissively. Luna wolves weren’t just powerful. They were the moon goddess’s direct agents on Earth. They existed to maintain balance, to fight corruption, and to protect Wolfkind from threats, both external and internal.

 She stopped directly in front of Carol, but their greatest strength was also their greatest weakness. They could sense darkness in others, feel it like a physical presence, which meant they lived constantly aware of every lie, every cruelty, every moment of corruption around them. It drove most of them mad. That sounds terrible. Carol said it was. Which is why Luna Wolves required extensive mental training alongside their physical gifts.

 You’re not just learning to fight, child. You’re learning to survive with powers that could easily destroy your sanity. Mora gestured to the training yard. We’ll start simple. Shift to your wolf form. Carol reached for that place inside herself where her wolf lived. And the transformation came instantly, far smoother than she’d expected.

 One moment she was standing on two legs, the next she was on four, her white fur gleaming in the morning light. That was easier, her wolf observed with satisfaction. Several pack members training nearby stopped to stare. Even after 3 days, the sight of a Luna wolf apparently demanded attention.

 “Good,” Mora said, seemingly unbothered by the massive glowing wolf now towering over her. Now I want you to extend your senses. Not just smell and hearing deeper. Feel the energy of everything around you. The stone beneath your paws, the air moving through the valley, the life force of every creature nearby. Carol tried.

 She focused, reaching out with senses she barely understood, and immediately gasped as the world exploded into overwhelming sensation. She could feel everything. The heartbeat of every wolf in the training yard, each one a unique rhythm. The ancient patience of the stone mountains, the wild chaos of wind and water, the small bright sparks of birds and rabbits and insects moving through the territory, and deeper, darker, something that pulsed with wrongness at the very edge of her perception. It was too much. Carol stumbled, whimpering,

trying to shut it all out. Focus, Mora commanded sharply. Don’t try to process everything at once. Choose one thing. lock onto it, master it before moving to the next, Carol latched onto Mora’s life force, surprisingly strong for someone so old.

 Burning with a steady, patient flame, she focused on that single point until the overwhelming flood of sensation became manageable, better, Mora said. Now, what do you sense from me? Carol studied the energy surrounding the elder wolf. Strength, wisdom, and sadness. old sadness like a wound that healed wrong. Mora’s expression flickered with something that might have been pain. Luna wolves see truth, she said quietly.

 They see what people hide, even from themselves. My mate died 40 years ago defending this pack from rogues. I’ve worn my grief like a second skin ever since. Most wolves never noticed. You saw it in seconds. She straightened professional mask sliding back into place. This is your gift and your curse.

 You’ll see people’s darkness, their pain, their secrets, and you’ll have to decide what to do with that knowledge. Use it wisely or it will eat you alive. They trained for 6 hours straight. Mora pushed Carol through exercises that left her gasping, learning to filter her expanded senses, to shift between forms rapidly, to channel her Luna energy into focused bursts rather than constant radiation.

By midday, Carol was exhausted in ways she’d never experienced. every muscle screaming and her mind feeling scraped raw. “That’s enough for today,” Mora finally said. “Rest. Tomorrow we’ll work on combat applications.” Carol shifted back to human form and collapsed onto the ground, sweat soaked and trembling. “You did well,” a voice said.

 She looked up to find Rowan approaching with a water skin. “Most wolves would have passed out after the first hour of what Mora put you through. I feel like I’m going to pass out now, Carol admitted, accepting the water gratefully. That’s normal. Luna powers don’t just use physical energy. They drain your spiritual reserves.

 You’ll adapt, but it takes time, he sat beside her, looking out over the valley. There’s something I need to tell you, Rowan said, his tone shifting serious. We received word this morning. Another pack has gone silent. The Mountain Ridge community, 37 wolves, including 12 children. Carol’s exhaustion evaporated, replaced by cold dread.

 When three nights ago, same pattern, no bodies, no signs of struggle, just empty territory. That makes four packs in 6 months. Carol, whatever this is, it’s accelerating. Do you have any idea what’s actually causing it? Rowan’s jaw tightened. the scout who survived before he died, the one who babbled about shadows.

 He said one other thing that Mora didn’t want to share publicly. He said the shadows smelled like rot and ancient hate and that they moved like wolves but weren’t wolves, like something was wearing wolf skin as a disguise. A chill ran down Carol’s spine. What could do that? I don’t know, but Mora thinks she might have found something in the old texts. She wants to show us tonight.

 After dinner, something about devourers from the first age. Before Carol could ask more, Sarah came bounding over, practically vibrating with excitement. Carol, some of us are going on a hunt this afternoon. Nothing serious, just rabbits and maybe a deer for tonight’s meal.

 Want to come? It’ll be fun and way less intense than training with Mora. Carol looked at Rowan, who shrugged. Could be good for you. Clear your head. Get to know some pack members in a less formal setting. Okay. Carol agreed, surprising herself. A hunt sounds nice. Actually, Sarah squealled with delight. Perfect. We leave in an hour. I’ll introduce you to everyone.

 As Sarah bounced away, Rowan stood and offered Carol his hand, pulling her to her feet. Be careful out there, he said. Even routine hunts can surprise you in this territory. And Carol, keep your senses open. If you feel anything wrong, anything dark, run. Don’t try to fight it alone. Why do I get the feeling you’re not just talking about regular predators? Because I’m not, Rowan said grimly.

 Fourpacks didn’t vanish because of bad luck. Something is hunting us. And if it knows a Luna wolf has awakened, he didn’t finish the thought. He didn’t need to. An hour later, Carol stood at the forest’s edge with five other wolves, Sira. Two males named Finn and Dax, and two females, River and Ash. They were all younger, maybe early 20s, and they treated the hunt like an adventure rather than a chore.

 Ready to see what you can really do? Finn asked with a challenging grin. He was broad-shouldered with dark hair and the cocky confidence of someone who’d never lost a fight. Try to keep up,” Carol replied. Letting her wolf’s competitive nature surface, they shifted together and plunged into the forest.

 Hunting with a pack, a real pack, wolves who didn’t hate her was a revelation. They moved together like water, communicating through body language and small sounds. Each wolf instinctively understanding their role. Sarah was the scout, quick and agile. Finn and Dax were the muscle. River and Ash were the strategists, directing movement with subtle gestures.

 And Carol, Carol was something else entirely. Her Luna senses painted the forest in ways the others couldn’t perceive. She could feel the life force of prey animals from hundreds of yards away, tracked their fear sent through dimensions the other wolves didn’t even know existed. Within minutes, she’d located a small herd of deer grazing near a stream.

 There she sent to the pack and was startled when they all heard her. Apparently, Luna Wolves could communicate telepathically. “Show off,” Sarah teased. But there was admiration in her mental voice. They set up the hunt perfectly. Carol and Finn, driving the herd toward where the others waited.

 The deer scattered as planned, and Dax brought down a young buck with clean efficiency. “Good kill!” Carols wolf approved. Quick and respectful. They were preparing to head back when Carol’s enhanced senses screamed a warning. Something was wrong. The forest had gone silent. No birds, no insects, no small animals rustling in the undergrowth.

 Just an oppressive, unnatural quiet that made her first stand on end. “Everyone stop!” Carol commanded, her mental voice sharp with urgency. The other wolves froze, sensing her alarm. “What is it?” Finn asked. “I don’t know, but something’s The darkness hit like a physical wave. It erupted from the trees ahead. Not shadows in the normal sense, but corruption made manifest. Thick and oily and wrong.

Carol could see it with her Luna sight. Twisted energy that moved like smoke, but felt alive, malevolent, hungry. And within the darkness, shapes that looked almost like wolves, but weren’t. Their eyes glowed with sickly green light. Their forms constantly shifting as if they couldn’t quite hold solid shape. “Run,” Carol ordered.

 Now the pack didn’t hesitate. They bolted, leaving their kill behind, racing back toward pack territory with the shadow things in pursuit. But Carol could feel them gaining, could sense their hunger reaching out like grasping hands. They were faster than normal wolves, tireless, driven by something beyond mortal need.

 One of them lunged for Sarah, jaws opening impossibly wide, and Carol’s Luna instincts took over. She wheeled around, placing herself between Sarah and the shadow wolf, and roared. The sound wasn’t just noise. It was power made audible. Luna energy weaponized into pure force. The shadow wolf recoiled, screaming in a voice that sounded like breaking glass and dying stars.

 Where Carol’s roar touched it, the darkness burned away, revealing nothing underneath. It wasn’t a creature wearing darkness. It was darkness given form and purpose. Keep running, Carol commanded the others. I’ll hold them. We don’t leave Pack behind. Finn snarled back. I’m not Pack yet. I’m Luna Wolf. Carol snapped. This is what I’m for. Now go.

 The authority in her voice was absolute. The others ran. Carol faced the approaching shadow wolves alone, her white fur blazing with moonlight even in broad daylight. There were five of them now, circling, testing her defenses. Well, her wolf said grimly. Guess we’re finding out what Luna wolves can do in combat. Any suggestions? Don’t die.

 That would be embarrassing. The shadow wolves attacked as one. And Carol discovered that sometimes the most powerful weapon wasn’t tooth or claw. It was light. Chapter 5. Light against darkness. Light erupted from Carol’s body like a detonation. It wasn’t a conscious choice. Pure instinct. Her Luna Wolf responding to mortal threat with the only weapon that mattered against creatures made of living darkness.

 Silver white radiance exploded outward in a sphere. And where it touched the shadow wolves, they screamed. The sound was unholy, like metal tearing, like children crying like every nightmare Carol had ever had given voice. The shadow wolves tried to retreat, but Carol’s light pursued them, burning away their corrupt forms layer by layer.

 More, her wolf urged, they’re not dead yet. Whatever passes for dead with these things, push harder. Carol reached deeper into the well of power inside her, pulling up reserves she hadn’t known existed. The light intensified, bright enough that she had to close her eyes against her own radiance.

 She felt the shadow wolves dissolving, their malevolent consciousness fragmenting into nothing. Then, abruptly, the energy cut off. Carol collapsed, her wolf form flickering as exhaustion crashed over her like a physical blow. The forest clearing was empty now. No shadow wolves, no darkness, just scorched earth where they’d stood, and the overwhelming silence of a place where something unnatural had just died. “Did we did we kill them?” Carol asked her wolf weakly.

“I think so, but I don’t know if they can truly die or if we just disperse them temporarily.” “We need to footsteps.” Multiple wolves approaching fast. Carol tried to stand to prepare for another fight, but her legs wouldn’t cooperate. She’d used too much power, burned through reserves she hadn’t built up yet. She could barely lift her head.

Rowan burst through the trees in human form, flanked by a dozen warriors. His golden eyes went wide as he took in the scene the scorched earth, the lingering traces of dark energy, and Carol collapsed in the center of it all. “What in the moon goddess’s name happened here?” he demanded, dropping to his knees beside her. Shadow wolves.

 Carol managed to project telepathically, too exhausted to shift and speak aloud. “Five of them chased us from the hunt. I held them off while the others escaped.” “Shadow wolves,” Rowan repeated, his face going pale. “You fought devourers alone? Devourers? That’s what Mora calls them in the old texts.

 Ancient entities of pure corruption that feed on wolf souls. They’re what’s been taking the packs. His hands were shaking as he checked her for injuries. Carol. Devourers are supposed to be unkillable. Even Luna wolves in the past could only drive them away temporarily. You shouldn’t have. Didn’t have a choice. Carol interrupted. They were going to take Sarah. Take all of them.

 Rowan closed his eyes briefly, and Carol felt something shift in his energy. a mix of gratitude, fear, and something else she couldn’t quite identify. “Can you walk?” he asked. “Probably not. Then I’m carrying you.” Before Carol could protest, Rowan scooped up her wolf form, no small feet, given that she probably weighed close to 200 lb in this shape, and started back toward the pack settlement.

 The warriors spread out in defensive formation around them, weapons drawn, all of them looking at the shadows between trees like enemies might emerge at any moment. They might, Carol’s wolf observed grimly. If there were five here, there could be dozens, hundreds. And now they know we’re here. Did you feel it? Carol asked right before they attacked. The way they focused on me specifically, like they recognized what I was.

 Yes, they weren’t just hunting randomly. They were hunting us. The implications were terrifying. They assembled everyone in the main hall, the entire pack, no exceptions. Rowan placed Carol, still in wolf form and too exhausted to shift on a raised platform where everyone could see her.

 Sarah and the other hunters from the afternoon stood nearby, their faces pale but determined. Elder Mora looked at Carol with an expression somewhere between horror and vindication. Tell them, Rowan commanded everything. So Carol did through the telepathic link that apparently all Luna wolves possessed. She projected the memory of the attack, the unnatural silence, the shadow wolves emerging from darkness, the chase, the fight.

 She let them feel her terror, her desperate determination, the moment when her power had erupted. When she finished, the hall was silent. Finally, Mora spoke. I was right,” she said heavily. “They’re back. After three centuries, the devourers have returned. What are they?” A voice from the crowd called, “Where do they come from?” Mora leaned heavily on her walking stick.

 The first age histories say devourers are corruption given form the accumulated darkness of Wolfkind’s worst impulses made manifest. Jealousy, cruelty, betrayal, murder. All the sins we commit against each other, they feed on and grow stronger, she gestured to Carol.

 Luna wolves were created specifically to fight them. Divine light against profane darkness. For thousands of years, Luna wolves kept the devourers at bay, preventing them from gaining enough strength to threaten all wolf kind. But 300 years ago, the last lunar wolf died in battle, and the devourers simply vanished. Where? Finn asked. No one knows.

 The scholars assumed they’d been destroyed or had fled to some unreachable place. But now we know the truth. Mora’s expression was grim. They were sleeping, gathering strength, waiting for their natural predator to go extinct so they could return. But I’m here now, Carol projected, forcing herself to stand despite her exhaustion. I can fight them.

 Can you? Mora challenged. You fought five and nearly killed yourself with the effort. The old texts speak of devourer armies numbering in the hundreds, sometimes thousands, and you’ve had your wolf for 4 days. The numbers were devastating. Then we train her faster, Rowan said firmly. We don’t have the luxury of time.

 If the devourers are taking packs to feed, to grow stronger, we need to strike before they become unstoppable. Strike where? Dax asked. We don’t even know where they’re based. I might, Carol said suddenly. Everyone turned to stare at her. During the fight, I felt something, a connection.

 Like the devourers weren’t independent creatures, but extensions of something larger, something that was watching through their eyes. A hive mind. Mora breathed. The texts mentioned that all devourers are connected to a central consciousness, the first devourer, the original corruption from which all others spawn.

 If we can find it, Rowan said slowly. If we can destroy the source, the spawn should die with it. Mora finished. In theory, but the first devourer would be unimaginably powerful. It would take a Luna wolf, Carol completed. That’s why the moon goddess sent the prophecy. That’s why she let me suffer for 18 years until I was strong enough to awaken.

 She was preparing me for this. The realization settled over her like a mantle, heavy, inescapable, terrifying. She wasn’t just some random girl who’d gotten lucky. She was a weapon forged in cruelty and isolation, tempered by suffering, awakened at the exact moment Wolfkind needed her most.

 The moon goddess hadn’t abandoned her during those 18 years she’d been building her. I hate that I understand now, Carol thought to her wolf. I hate that there was a reason for all of it. Reasons don’t make the pain less real, her wolf replied gently. But they can make it meaningful. We suffered. Now we use that suffering to save others from the same fate.

 Rowan stepped forward, his alpha authority filling the hall. Here’s what we’re going to do, he announced. Carol trains with Mora everyday intensive combat and power development. We fortify our borders, double patrols, and set up early warning systems. And we send scouts to track where the devourers are coming from.

 Someone must have seen something. He looked directly at Carol. When you’re ready, and only when you’re ready, we’ll hunt the first devourer. We’ll end this threat permanently. But until then, we survive. We protect each other, and we give our Luna Wolf the time she needs to become what she was meant to be.

 The pack erupted in howls of agreement, not of submission, but of unity. These wolves were choosing to fight, choosing to believe in a prophecy in a girl they’d known for less than a week. It should have felt like pressure. Instead, it felt like belonging. This is what pack was supposed to be, Carol realized.

 Not people telling you who you should be, but people believing in who you could become. Rest tonight, Mora told Carol as the assembly dissolved. Tomorrow we begin real training, not the basics I showed you today, actual combat preparation. It won’t be pleasant. I haven’t had pleasant in 18 years, Carol replied. I can handle difficult. Well see, Mora said. But there was approval in her eyes.

 Later, after she’d finally regained enough strength to shift back to human form and eat something, Carol stood on the balcony outside her room, watching the moon rise over the mountains. Somewhere out there, the devourers were gathering, feeding on stolen souls, growing stronger, preparing for war. And somewhere, in the deepest darkness, the first devourer waited the original corruption. The ancient enemy that had killed every Luna wolf who’d ever faced it.

 Carol should have been terrified. Instead, she felt something she’d never experienced before. Certainty. The moon goddess had spent 18 years breaking her, reshaping her, preparing her for this moment. Every cruel word, every rejection, every moment of isolation had been building toward this. She wasn’t just a survivor anymore. She was a weapon.

 And weapons existed for one purpose. To destroy the things that threatened what they protected. Let them come,” her wolf said fiercely. “We’re done running. We’re done hiding. When they find us, they’ll learn why Luna wolves are legends.” Carol smiled into the darkness, her eyes glowing silver white. I survived 18 years of wolves who hated me. She whispered to the night.

 “Some shadows won’t be any harder. Behind her, unseen,” Rowan watched from his own balcony and prayed she was right. Because if Carol fell, Wolfkind fell with her, and the darkness would consume them all. Chapter 6. The price of power. Training with Mora made the previous day look like a warm-up.

 For 2 weeks, Carol pushed herself beyond every limit she thought she had. Dawn to dusk. Sometimes later, learning to weaponize her Luna gifts in ways that left her bleeding from places she didn’t know could bleed. Again, Mora commanded as Carol collapsed for the seventh time that morning. her white fur matted with sweat and dirt. I can’t, Carol gasped.

 There’s nothing left. Then find something, Mora said without sympathy. Devourers don’t care if you’re tired. They don’t wait for you to catch your breath again. Carol forced herself upright, channeling her light into a focused beam rather than an explosion.

 The training dummy across the yard, specially treated to resist Luna energy, glowed white hot before finally shattering. Better, Mora conceded. But you’re still broadcasting your intent 3 seconds before you attack. Against devourers, that’s 3 seconds to dodge or counter. Mask your energy signature until the moment of release. How? Figure it out. I can teach you the theory. Only you can learn the execution.

 It was infuriating. It was exhausting. It was exactly what Carol needed because in those two weeks, she discovered something crucial. Her power wasn’t just about raw strength. It was about control, precision, understanding. Luna wolves didn’t win through brute force. They won through mastery over their own divine nature.

 The other pack members watched her train with expressions ranging from awe to concern. Sarah brought her water and encouragement. Finn sparred with her in human form, teaching her combat techniques that translated across both shapes. River and Ash helped her develop tactics for fighting multiple opponents simultaneously. And Rowan, Rowan was everywhere and nowhere, watching from distances, offering quiet words of support, carrying her back to her room on the nights she literally couldn’t walk. “You don’t have to do this,” he said one evening after a particularly

brutal session where Mora had pushed Carol until she’d vomited from spiritual exhaustion. “Yes, I do,” Carol replied, accepting the water he offered. Four packs are gone, Rowan. Four packs worth of souls consumed by darkness. If I can stop it, at what cost, Rowan interrupted, Carol, you’re destroying yourself. I can see it. You barely sleep, barely eat.

 You’re burning your life force faster than it can regenerate. Luna wolves burn bright and die young. Carol quoted Mo’s words. I always knew the job came with a price, but it doesn’t have to be paid all at once. Rowan’s frustration finally broke through his careful control. You’ve been here 2 weeks and you’re already half dead.

 What happens when we actually face the first devourer? Will there be anything left of you to fight? Carol met his eyes. If there’s not, then I’ll have given everything I had. That’s more than anyone ever gave me. The words hung between them, heavy with truth. Is that what you think? Rowan asked quietly.

 that you have to earn your worth through sacrifice, that your value is measured in how much pain you can endure. The question struck too close to wounds Carol had thought were scarring over. I think she said carefully that I spent 18 years as the weakest member of my pack. I think I know what it feels like to be useless, to be the one everyone has to protect or tolerate or pity.

 And I think I’d rather burn out as something powerful than live a long life as something weak. You were never weak, Rowan said with surprising intensity. You survived 18 years of systematic cruelty without losing your humanity. You maintained your compassion, your sense of justice, your ability to forgive. That’s not weakness, Carol.

That’s the strongest thing I’ve ever witnessed. For a moment, Carol couldn’t breathe. No one had ever said anything like that to her. No one had ever looked past the wolfless girl to see the person beneath. I,” she started, then stopped, unsure what to say. Rowan seemed to realize he’d said too much. He stood abruptly. Rest.

 Tomorrow, Mora wants to try something new. Testing your ability to sense devourers at a distance. You’ll need your strength. He left before Carol could respond, leaving her alone with thoughts that felt too big for her skull. He sees us. Her wolf observed quietly. Really sees us. Not just the power or the prophecy. Us don’t.

 Carol warned. We can’t afford distractions. We have a job to do. And after when the first devourer is dead and the threat is ended. What then? Carol didn’t have an answer. She wasn’t sure she’d survive long enough for after to matter. On day 16, everything changed. Scouts returned with news. They’d found one of the missing packs. or rather they’d found where one had been.

 The Frost Creek territory was a graveyard. Carol stood at the edge of what had once been a thriving community, and her enhanced senses screamed warnings. The land itself was corrupted, trees twisted into wrong shapes. Water in the creek running black and oily, the very air tasting of rot and despair.

 Stay close, Rowan commanded the dozen wolves who’d accompanied them. Don’t touch anything. Don’t drink the water. If you feel anything wrong, any sensation of cold or dread, signal immediately. They spread out carefully, searching for clues. Carol moved through the abandoned pack house in wolf form. Her Luna senses painting a picture of what had happened.

She could still feel the echo’s terror, confusion, desperate last stands that meant nothing against enemies made of living darkness. They took everyone her wolf observed, not just the warriors, children, elders, even pregnant mothers. In the main hall, Carol found scratch marks on the walls, not from claws, but from fingernails. Someone had tried to write something in their final moments.

The words were barely legible, carved in panic. They wear our faces. Carol’s blood went cold. Rowan, she projected. You need to see this. He arrived within seconds. and his expression grew grim as he read the message. Devourers can take the forms of wolves they’ve consumed. Mora had mentioned it during training, but hearing it and seeing evidence were different things.

 That’s how they’ve been getting close to packs without triggering alarms. They kill a few wolves, assume their shapes, then walk right into the heart of pack territory. Which means, Finn said slowly, “Any of us could be devourers in disguise. The paranoia was instant and poisonous. Wolves started eyeing each other suspiciously, hands drifting toward weapons.

 The unity that had defined the northern pack began cracking under the weight of primal fear. “Stop!” Carol commanded, her Luna authority cracking through the rising panic. “Everyone shift now.” “Why?” Dax asked wearily. “Because devourers can’t perfectly mimic wolf form. They can wear our faces as humans, but in wolf shape, they leave traces.

 Dark energy that Luna wolves can sense. Shift and I’ll verify each of you. It was a risk. If one of them was a devourer, this might trigger an attack, but they needed to know. One by one, the wolves shifted. Carol examined each with her enhanced senses, feeling for any hint of corruption, any wrongness in their energy signatures. All clear.

Every single one was genuine. “We’re clean,” she announced, relief flooding through her “for now, but we need to test everyone in the main pack,” Rowan said. “If devourers can infiltrate, a howl cut through the air, desperate, terrified, coming from the direction of the Northern Territory.” “The pack.

” Sarah’s mental voice screamed across the distance, somehow reaching them. “They’re attacking the pack. Hundreds of them. We can’t.” The connection cut off. Rowan’s face went white. We’re 3 hours away at full sprint. “Then we sprint,” Carol said. Already running. They raced through the forest, pushing beyond exhaustion, beyond pain.

 Carol’s Luna speed made her faster than the others, but she forced herself to stay with the group. They were stronger together. “Please,” she prayed to the moon goddess. “Please let us get there in time.” But even as she ran, Carol’s enhanced senses felt it the massive concentration of dark energy ahead. Like a wound in reality itself.

This wasn’t a raid. This was an extermination. And somewhere in that darkness, she felt it. A consciousness vast and ancient and malevolent, directing its spawn with horrifying intelligence. The first devourer. It had found them, and it had brought an army.

 They arrived to find the northern territory burning, not with fire, with darkness. Shadow consumed buildings, turned stone to ash, corroded the very ground. Devourers swarmed everywhere. Hundreds of them, killing wolves who fought desperately but hopelessly. Carol didn’t think, she just acted. Light exploded from her body like a newborn star, and her roar shook the mountains themselves.

Every devourer within a h 100 yards disintegrated instantly. Their screams swallowed by her radiance. But there were too many. For every dozen she destroyed, more emerged from the shadows. The source, her wolf urged. We need to find the source and end this. Carol reached out with her senses.

 Following the threads of dark energy back to their origin and found it. On the mountain peak above the pack settlement, a mass of darkness so dense it looked like a hole torn in reality. Within that darkness, eyes like dying stars watched the slaughter with ancient satisfaction. Luna Wolf, a voice like grinding stone spoke directly into her mind. You should have stayed hidden.

 Now you die with the others. Not today, Carol snarled. She launched herself up the mountain side, leaving the others to defend the pack. every instinct screaming that this was suicide. She didn’t care. This ended now. One way or another. Chapter 7. The first devourer. The climb up the mountain should have taken hours. Carol made it in minutes.

 Her Luna Wolf form blazing with desperate fury as she bounded over boulders and sheer cliff faces that would have killed a normal wolf. Behind her, the sounds of battle raged screams, howls, the sickening wet sounds of death. She blocked it out. Had to. If she thought about Sarah or River or any of the others fighting for their lives, she’d lose focus.

 And focus was all that would keep her alive. The first devourer waited at the summit, coalesed into something almost solid. It was massive, easily three times Carol’s size, shaped vaguely like a wolf, but wrong in every detail. Too many joints in its legs, too many teeth in its jaws, eyes that multiplied and divided like cells under a microscope.

 And the darkness that composed it wasn’t just absence of light. It was corruption made manifest. Every evil impulse wolf kind had ever harbored given form and hunger. So young it spoke directly into her mind. Its voice like fingernails on her soul. The last luna wolf lasted 3 hours against me before she broke. How long will you last, child? Long enough.

 Carol snarled and attacked. She channeled her light into her claws. Each swipe leaving trails of silver white energy that burned through the devourer’s form. But the wounds closed instantly. Darkness flowing like liquid to fill the gaps. The devourer’s counterattack came impossibly fast tendrils of shadow lashing out, trying to wrap around her legs, her throat, her muzzle.

 Carol dodged desperately, but one tendril caught her shoulder, and the pain was indescribable. It wasn’t just physical damage. The darkness sank into her, trying to corrupt her from the inside, fill her with despair and self-hatred, and the memory of every cruel word she’d ever endured. Worthless, broken, mistake, should have been drowned at birth.

 “No!” Carol roared, and her light flared, burning the tendril away. But the devourer’s laughter echoed in her skull. Yes, I feed on suffering, little wolf. And you are so full of it. 18 years of pain, rejection, isolation. Delicious. It knew. Somehow it knew everything. Every moment of her childhood. Every time she’d cried herself to sleep, every desperate prayer that had gone unanswered. Your moon goddess made you suffer.

 Shaped you through cruelty. What kind of deity tortures her own champion? the kind who knew I needed to be strong enough for this. Carol shot back, but doubt wormed its way into her heart. Had the moon goddess really cared about her? Or had she just been a tool deliberately broken and reforged into a weapon? Exactly.

 A tool, an instrument, not a person, a thing to be used and discarded. More tendrils lashed out. Carol burned them away. But each time the devourer touched her, more poison leaked into her mind. “She’s right.” A traitorous voice whispered in Carols thoughts. “You were never loved. You were engineered.

 Your suffering had a purpose, which means they could have ended at any time, but they chose not to.” “Stop!” Carol gasped, trying to focus on fighting, but the psychological assault was as devastating as the physical one. “Even now, your pack dies below. Wolves who welcomed you, showed you kindness. And where are you? Abandoning them. Just like your mother abandoned you, just like everyone always abandons you. Carol’s light flickered.

 Below, she could hear the battle turning desperate. A mental scream cut through the night. Someone dying, their consciousness torn apart by devourers. They need us, her wolf urged weakly. We need to help them. But if she retreated, the first devourer would just follow, would kill them all. The only way forward was through. You cannot win.

 The devourer continued, circling her. I am 3,000 years old. I have consumed armies. I have killed seven Luna wolves. You are nothing but a child with borrowed power. Then why are you trying so hard to break me mentally? Carol challenged, forcing strength into her voice she didn’t feel. If I’m so weak, just kill me. Unless you can’t. Not without breaking me first.

 The devourer’s many eyes fixed on her with sudden intensity. Clever child. Yes, Luna wolves cannot be consumed while their spirit remains intact. I must break your will. Shatter your sense of self before I can feed on your soul. But that has never been difficult. It lunged faster than before. And this time, Carol couldn’t dodge completely.

 Claws of solid shadow rad across her side, and the corruption sank deep. Memories flooded her mind, not her own, but those of the wolves the devourer had consumed. She felt their deaths, their terror, their final moments of hope extinguishing like candle flames. She felt the last Luna Wolf’s death most vividly, a warrior named Thera, who’d fought for 3 hours before the Devourer finally broke her spirit by showing her visions of every pack she’d failed to save.

 Every wolf who died because she wasn’t fast enough, strong enough, good enough. That’s what it does, Carol realized with horror. It weaponizes guilt. Makes you believe every death is your fault until you’re paralyzed with despair. Precisely, the devourer purred. And you, little wolf, have so much guilt already.

 18 years of wondering why you weren’t good enough to be loved. It will take mere minutes to finish you. Another strike. More corruption. Carols vision blurred, her light dimming. Get up, her wolf urged. We can’t quit. Not like this. I can’t. Carol thought back. It’s too strong. I’m not ready. Mora was right. I’m not trained enough. Not powerful enough. Then we drying. Everyone dies if we die. Then don’t die.

The force of her wolf’s mental shout shocked Carol back to clarity. Her wolf’s consciousness pressed against her own. urgent and fierce. Listen to me. That thing wants you to focus on your pain, your weakness, your failures. But that’s not all you are. Remember what Rowan said? You survived 18 years without breaking.

 You maintained your humanity when everyone tried to strip it away. That’s not weakness. That’s power. Power. Yes. The devourer feeds on suffering. But you’re not just suffering. You’re also survival, resilience, forgiveness. You forgave the pack that tried to kill you. You chose to protect wolves you barely knew.

 That’s not the mindset of someone broken. That’s someone who refused to let cruelty make her cruel. Understanding dawned like sunrise. The first devourer wasn’t attacking her strength. It was attacking her self-perception, making her believe she was weak, worthless, doomed to fail. But Carol had spent 18 years not believing that. Even when everyone told her it was true, she’d survived by maintaining hope in a hopeless situation.

 By staying kind in a cruel world, by refusing to become the monster they called her. “That’s my real power,” Carol realized. “Not the light, the choice to keep fighting despite the darkness.” The first devourer sensed the shift in her energy and attacked with renewed ferocity, trying to crush this dangerous realization before it could take root.

 “Too late!” Carol stood, her light blazing brighter than before, not from rage or desperation, but from purpose, from understanding exactly what she was fighting for and why. You’re right, she said calmly. I’m young, untrained. I’ve barely had my wolf for 3 weeks. But you know what? That means I haven’t learned all the ways I’m supposed to fail yet.

 She began walking toward the devourer, her light intensifying with each step. You want to feed on my suffering? Go ahead. I have 18 years of it. But you’ll have to take the rest, too. Every moment I chose kindness over cruelty. Every time I forgave instead of hated, every single second I survived when giving up would have been easier. The devourer retreated and Carol realized with shock that it was afraid.

Impossible. You cannot. I can, Carol interrupted. Because unlike every other Luna wolf you faced, I didn’t grow up believing I was special or chosen or destined for greatness. I grew up believing I was nothing, which means I have nothing to lose.

 She shifted fully into her purpose, and her light transformed not the aggressive burning radiance she’d used before, but something gentler. Moonlight rather than sunlight. Steady, patient, inexurable. You feed on the darkness in wolf hearts. Carol said, “But I spent 18 years surrounded by darkness and never let it consume me. So, let’s see what happens when darkness meets someone who’s already intimate with it.

” She embraced the devourer, wrapped her light around it like a blanket, and instead of trying to burn it away, she simply held it, contained it, refused to let it spread. The devourer screamed, thrashing, trying to escape. But Carol held firm. Even as the corruption tried to seep into her, even as her body screamed in agony, even as her consciousness threatened to shatter, “I forgive you,” she thought at the ancient evil for every pack you took, every soul you consumed, every moment of terror you caused. I forgive you. Not because you deserve it, but because hatred is what made you, and I refuse to

feed you anymore. The devourer’s screams reached a crescendo. And then, impossibly, it began to dissolve. Not burning away like its spawn, but transforming. The corruption purified. The darkness transmuted into something lighter. Not good, perhaps, but neutral. No longer a threat. Luna wolves don’t destroy darkness, Carol realized. They redeem it. Chapter 8.

 Aftermath and revelation. When the first devourer dissolved, every spawn connected to it died instantly. Carol felt it happened. Hundreds of dark presences winking out of existence across the territory. Across the entire region, the devourers that had plagued Wolfkind for 6 months simply ceased to be. Unraveled like thread pulled from a tapestry.

 She collapsed on the mountain peak, her wolf form flickering between solid and transparent. She’d used everything, every drop of power, every ounce of will, every fragment of spiritual energy she possessed. “Did we win?” she asked her wolf weekly. “We survived,” her wolf replied, equally exhausted.

 “That counts as winning. Footsteps on stone.” Rowan appeared, blood splattered and limping, but alive. His golden eyes went wide as he took in the scene. No first devourer, just Carol collapsed and glowing faintly with residual energy. You killed it, he breathed. You actually killed it. Redeemed it. Carol corrected her voice barely a whisper. There’s a difference.

She tried to stand, failed, and would have collapsed completely if Rowan hadn’t caught her. Easy, he said, supporting her weight. The pack is safe. The devourers are gone. You did it, Carol. You saved us all. Casualties. She managed to ask. Rowan’s expression darkened. 17 dead, 34 injured.

 It could have been so much worse if you hadn’t gotten to the source when you did. 17. 17 wolves who’d welcomed her, shown her kindness, believed in a prophecy they had no reason to trust. 17 wolves dead because she hadn’t been fast enough. Don’t, her wolf warned, sensing where her thoughts were going. Don’t let guilt consume you.

 That’s what the devourer wanted. We saved hundreds. We ended a threat that would have killed thousands. Honor the dead by living. Carol knew her wolf was right. But the knowledge didn’t make the grief lighter. Come on, Rowan said gently. Let’s get you back to the pack. They need to see you alive. They need to know the nightmare is over. They descended the mountain together.

 Rowan practically carrying Carol and emerged into a settlement transformed. The darkness had lifted, leaving behind exhausted wolves tending to wounded, putting out fires, searching for survivors. When they saw Carol, everything stopped. Then, as one, the entire pack began to howl. It wasn’t a morning howl or a victory howl. It was something deeper.

 Recognition, gratitude, the acknowledgement that they just witnessed something that would become legend. Sarah pushed through the crowd, tears streaming down her face, and threw her arms around Carol despite the fact that she was still in wolf form. “You crazy, beautiful, and sane wolf!” Sarah sobbed.

 “You actually did it. You saved us.” Ben and Dax approached more cautiously, their expressions mixing awe with respect. River and Ash bowed their heads in a gesture that had nothing to do with submission and everything to do with honoring an equal who’d fought beyond human limits. Even Elder Mora looked impressed, which was possibly a first.

 3 hours, Mora said, studying Carol with new eyes. The last Luna Wolf fought the first devourer for 3 hours before breaking. You ended it in 20 minutes. How? I didn’t try to fight it, Carol explained, exhaustion making her words slur. I forgave it. Luna Wolves don’t destroy darkness, they transform it.

 The other Luna wolves failed because they approached the devourer as an enemy to be killed. I approached it as corruption to be redeemed. Mora’s eyes widened. The ancient texts mentioned that possibility, but no Luna wolf had ever managed it. The anger, the righteous fury at what the devourers had done, it always got in the way. How did you stay calm enough to forgive something so evil? Carol thought of 18 years being treated as evil herself, of learning that hatred and anger only fed the darkness, of choosing every single day not to become the monster they called her. Practice, she said simply. They moved the injured to the healing halls,

established a perimeter in case any residual threats remained, and began the grim work of honoring the dead. Carol wanted to help, but her body had other ideas. The moment Rowan guided her to her room, she collapsed onto the bed and didn’t wake for 16 hours.

 When she finally did wake, it was to find Sarah asleep in a chair beside her bed, keeping watch. The girl stirred when Carol sat up, then immediately scrambled to her feet. “You’re awake? How do you feel? Do you need anything? Food? Water?” Mora said not to let you overexert yourself for at least a week, Sarah. Carol interrupted gently. Breathe. Sarah laughed, then burst into tears again.

 I thought you were going to die when you ran up that mountain alone. I thought we’d never see you again. I thought the same thing, Carol admitted. But apparently, I’m harder to kill than expected. The whole pack is talking about you, Sarah said, wiping her eyes. They’re calling you the White Luna, the Devour’s Bane, The Second Coming.

 There are already three different songs being composed about the battle. Carol groaned. That sounds exhausting. You’re a hero, Carol. Accept it. But as Carol stood and looked out her window at the pack members going about their recovery, she didn’t feel like a hero. She felt like someone who’d done what needed doing because no one else could.

 The 17 funeral ps visible on the far hill reinforced that feeling. Heroes saved everyone. She just saved most of them. Most is better than none, her wolf reminded her. and infinitely better than what would have happened if we’d done nothing. A knock at the door. Rowan entered, looking significantly more rested than when she’d last seen him. The council wants to meet with you, he said. When you’re ready. No rush.

 They can wait another day if you need it. I’m fine, Carol lied, then reconsidered. Actually, I’m not fine, but I’m functional enough for a meeting. What do they want to formally thank you? to discuss what happens next. And he hesitated to offer you something. What? Come to the meeting. Rowan said, “It’s better if they explain.

” The council chamber was smaller than the main hall, intimate and serious. Seven wolves sat around a circular table. Rowan, Mora, and five others Carol recognized as senior pack members. They all stood when she entered, which made her deeply uncomfortable. Please sit, Elder Vex, the oldest male council member, said respectfully. Luna Wolf, what you did, Carol, she interrupted.

 Just Carol is fine. Carol, Vex amended with a slight smile. What you did saved not just our pack, but potentially every pack in the northern regions. The devourers were accelerating their attacks. Within another month, they would have taken hundreds more wolves. You ended that threat permanently and we cannot let such a deed go unrecognized.

 Another council member added, “The songs and titles are recognition enough,” Carol said quickly. “I don’t need. We want to offer you a permanent position in the Northern Pack,” Rowan interrupted. “Not as a member, but as an equal leader, a second alpha with full authority and decision-making power.” Carol stared at him. “What?” Luna wolves historically served as spiritual leaders and protectors.

 Mora explained, “They operated outside normal pack hierarchies. We’re proposing a formal structure. You and Rowan as co-leaders. He handles traditional alpha duties. You handle threats that require Luna intervention. That’s Carol struggled for words. That’s a huge responsibility. I’m barely 20. I’ve had my wolf for less than a month. And you’ve already done what seven previous Luna Wolves couldn’t. Vex countered.

 Age and experience matter less than character. You’ve proven yours beyond doubt. Carol looked around the table, searching for the catch, the hidden agenda. The moment when they’d revealed this was all conditional on her proving herself further. She found only sincerity. What if I say no? She asked quietly.

 Then you’re free to leave, Rowan said immediately. This is an offer, Carol, not an obligation. You owe us nothing. If you want to travel, to find yourself, to live a normal life, you’ve earned that right a thousand times over. A normal life, Carol thought. What would that even look like? She’d never had normal.

 Didn’t know what it felt like to simply exist without crisis or purpose or destiny pressing down on her shoulders. Do you want normal? Her wolf asked. Or do you want this belonging purpose? The ability to protect others from what we suffered.

 Carol thought of Sarah’s tears, of the pack’s unified howl, of Rowan’s steady presence through everything. She thought of 17 pers and hundreds of lives saved. She thought of being wolfless in the Iron Pack, invisible, tolerated, pied versus being a Luna wolf in the Northern Pack, seen valued, chosen, not despite her past, but because of how she’d risen from it. I need conditions, she said finally.

 The council members exchanged glances. Name them, Rowan said. First, I’m not a politician. I don’t do pack politics or social maneuvering. If you need someone to smile and make nice with visiting alphas, that’s your job. My job is protecting the pack from genuine threats. Agreed, Rowan said immediately.

 Second, I train every single day with Mora or alone. I don’t care, but I’m not letting my skills deteriorate because we’re not currently in crisis. Preparedness isn’t optional. Reasonable. Mora nodded. Third, if the moon goddess sends me visions or missions or whatever divine intervention looks like, I follow them.

 Even if it means leaving the pack temporarily, I’m her agent first, your leader second. That’s acceptable, Vex said, though he looked slightly nervous about the implications. And finally, Carol took a breath. I want to go back to the Iron Pack. The room went silent. Why? Rowan asked carefully. Because Garrett framed me for a crime I didn’t commit, and whatever really attacked him is still out there.

 Because 17 Wolves died protecting me from devourers, and I need to make sure no other packs are vulnerable to similar threats. And because she met Rowan’s eyes, because my sister and my mother need to see what I’ve become. Need to understand that throwing me away was the biggest mistake they ever made. Not for revenge.

 I don’t want to hurt them, but they need to know that the wolfless girl they tried to execute is now the Luna Wolf who saved the North. They need to live with that. Rowan smiled a fierce, proud expression. When do we leave? We, Carol asked. You think I’m letting you walk back into that viper’s nest alone? Besides, this will be an official diplomatic visit.

 The Northern Pack has business with the Iron Pack now that we know something attacked their heir, and they blamed an innocent girl for it. His smile took on a sharp edge. Time for Alpha Donovan to answer some very uncomfortable questions. Chapter 9. Return to the Iron Pack. They traveled south for 5 days.

 a delegation of 12 wolves that included Rowan, Carol, Mora, Sarah, and eight warriors who looked more like an honor guard than protection detail because Carol didn’t need protection anymore. The journey gave her time to think, to process everything that had happened in the month since her execution, a month.

 Just 30 days ago, she’d been wolfless, powerless, standing on an executioner’s block, waiting to die. Now she was a Luna wolf who’d defeated the first devourer and been offered co-leership of the most powerful pack in the north. The transformation felt surreal. “Are you nervous?” her wolf asked as the Iron Packs territory came into view, terrified, Carol admitted.

 “What if seeing them breaks something in me? What if all the healing we’ve done shatters the moment my mother looks through me again? Then we’ll heal again,” her wolf replied firmly. We’re not that scared girl anymore. We’re returning on our terms with wolves who value us at our back. They can’t hurt us unless we let them. Carol hoped that was true.

 They crossed into Ironpack territory at midday, and the border guards reactions were almost comical shock, confusion, then barely concealed fear when they recognized Carol’s white fur. Luna Wolf. One guard breathed, dropping immediately to one knee. We didn’t. The alpha didn’t mention, “Should we escort you to the pack house?” “That would be appreciated,” Rowan said smoothly.

 His alpha authority making it clear this was a formal visit, not a raid. As they traveled through familiar territory, Carol’s enhanced senses picked up everything. The whispered conversations as wolves recognized her, the confusion and alarm spreading through the pack like wildfire. The hastily assembled defense forces that pretended they weren’t defense forces.

 By the time they reached the pack house, Alpha Donovan was waiting with his full counsel, all of them trying to project strength. While their life forces screamed anxiety, Darius stood beside his brother, and his silver eyes went wide when he saw Carol. “Blessed moon,” he whispered. “The rumors were true.” “Alpha Donovan,” Rowan began formally.

“I am Alpha Rowan Blackthornne of the Northern Territories. I come on official business regarding the wolf, Carol Ashford, whom you attempted to execute 30 days ago. Donovans jaw tightened. That was internal pack business. That was an attempted execution of a Luna wolf, Rowan interrupted, his voice cold as winter.

Which, according to ancient law that supersedes pack sovereignty, is a crime punishable by the moon goddess herself. Your fortunate Carol is more merciful than divine law requires. The assembled ironpack wolves shifted nervously. Luna wolves were legend and legends had weight. Carol stepped forward in her wolf form, letting them see her fully.

The glowing white fur, the silver patterns that moved like living moonlight, the lunar mark hovering above her head, she spoke, her layered voice resonating with power that made several wolves flinch. “I didn’t come for revenge,” she said clearly. “I came for truth. 30 days ago, I was sentenced to death for allegedly attacking Garrett Donovan, but I didn’t attack him.

 Someone or something else did, and I want to know what. All eyes turned to Garrett, who’d gone pale as death. I I told you what happened, he stammered. Carol attacked me. I barely survived. Lie, Carol said flatly. Her Luna senses could feel deception like oil on water. Try again. What really happened that night, Garrett? I don’t have to answer to you.

 Garrett shot back, but his voice cracked. Actually, you do. Mora stepped forward, leaning on her walking stick. Luna wolves have the authority to compel truth in matters of corruption or dark magic. And whatever attacked you that night, it wasn’t natural, was it? Garrett’s hands started shaking.

 Tell them, Lisa said suddenly, her voice tight. She stood beside Garrett, but her expression was conflicted. Moon Goddess. Garrett, tell them the truth. I can’t. I can’t keep lying about this. Lissa. Garrett started desperately. No. She cut him off. And Carol saw something break in her sister’s perfect facade. My sister almost died.

 Was supposed to die because you were too afraid to tell the truth. So tell it now or I will. The silence was absolute. Garrett looked around at all the watching faces, realized he had no escape, and finally crumbled. “It wasn’t Carol,” he admitted, his voice barely audible. “It was something else. Something with silver fur and wrong eyes like they were glowing with sick light.

 It came out of nowhere, attacked me, tore into my chest. I thought I was going to die.” He swallowed hard. Then it spoke. said, “If I told anyone what really happened, it would come back for Lisa. Kill her slowly. Make me watch. It told me to blame.” Carol said she was convenient, that no one would question it because everyone already hated her.

 The words fell like stones into deep water. “So you let an innocent girl die to save yourself?” Darius said, his voice trembling with rage. “To save Lissa,” Garrett protested. “I love her. I couldn’t let that thing hurt her. So you sacrificed Carol instead,” Rowan said coldly. “How noble!” Carol felt the pack’s energy shift, shame, horror. The dawning realization of what they’d almost done.

 “What they’d been willing to do based on one lie and their own prejudices.” “The creature you described,” Mora said carefully. “Silver fur, wrong eyes, ability to speak that matches early stage devourer manifestation. They were testing your territory, looking for vulnerabilities, and they found one a wolf willing to lie to protect himself.

 Divorce, Donovan asked sharply. You mean the legends? Not legends anymore, Rowan replied. They’ve been killing entire packs for the last 6 months. Four communities completely erased. They would have killed more, possibly including yours, if Carol hadn’t destroyed their source. He let that sink in.

 The Luna Wolf you tried to execute is the reason your pack is still alive. She defeated an enemy you didn’t even know existed. And your response to her awakening was to run her out of your territory. The shame in the pack’s collective energy intensified. Where is Elena? Carol asked quietly. Where is my mother? A stirring in the crowd.

 Her mother pushed through and Carol’s heart clenched seeing her. Elena looked like she’d aged a decade and 30 days. Eyes hollow with grief and guilt. Carol. Elena breathed, tears already streaming. Baby, I’m so sorry. I was afraid. I was confused. I should have protected you. You should have believed me. Carol interrupted and was proud that her voice didn’t shake.

 You should have stood beside me when everyone else turned away. You were my mother. That was your job. I know. Elena sobbed. I know. And I failed you. I failed you for 18 years. I let them treat you like you were broken. Let them make you feel worthless and I did nothing.

 I was so ashamed of having a wolfless daughter that I couldn’t see I should have been ashamed of myself. She fell to her knees. I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I know that. But please, please know that I loved you. I always loved you, even when I was too weak to show it. Carol looked at her mother, this woman who’d given her life but not protection. Love but not courage. Apologies but not action when it mattered. She felt her wolf’s presence solid and supportive.

 What do you want to do? I don’t know, Carol admitted. Part of me wants to forgive her. Part of me wants to walk away and never look back. Both are valid choices, her wolf said. Choose what serves our healing, not what makes them feel better. Carol shifted to human form, standing naked and unashamed before her old pack.

 Someone quickly offered her clothes, which she accepted and put on slowly, taking her time. “Finally,” she spoke. “I forgive you, Mom,” she said quietly. “Not because you’ve earned it, but because carrying hatred would only hurt me. But forgiveness doesn’t mean reconciliation. You had 18 years to be my mother. You chose 18 years of silence. I’m done waiting for you to be brave enough to love me publicly.

 Elena’s sobbs intensified, but Carol felt nothing. No satisfaction, no pain, just a sense of completion. She turned to Lisa, who stood frozen, tears tracking down her perfect face. “Thank you,” Carol said. “For making Garrett tell the truth. That took courage. It should never have required courage,” Lisa whispered.

 Carol, I was horrible to you. For years, I pretended you didn’t exist because it was easier than defending you. I let them hurt you because I was afraid they’d hurt me if I stood with you. She took a shaking breath. I don’t expect forgiveness. I just want you to know I’m proud of what you’ve become, and I’m ashamed of what I was.

 Carol studied her twin, this perfect reflection of what she could have been if the moon goddess had given her a wolf at 7 instead of 18. Once that comparison had destroyed her. Now it just felt irrelevant. We’re not sisters anymore, Carol said. Not cruy, just factually. We were born from the same mother, but we were shaped by different choices. You chose comfort and acceptance. I chose survival and authenticity.

 Those paths don’t lead to the same place. She looked around at the assembled iron pack. All these wolves who treated her as less than nothing. I don’t hate you, she announced. Any of you, but I don’t belong here. I never did. You made that clear every day for 18 years. So, I’m going home to the pack that chose me, valued me, trusted me enough to let me save them.

 She turned to Rowan. We’re done here. Not quite, Rowan said, his expression hardening. He addressed Donovan directly. By attempting to execute a Luna Wolf, you violated sacred law. Traditionally, this would require your pack’s dissolution and your own execution. The Iron Pack recoiled in horror. However, Rowan continued.

 Carol has requested mercy, so instead, the Iron Pack will owe the Northern Pack a life debt. If we call, you answer. If we need warriors, you send them. If we require resources, you provide them. This debt extends for three generations or until Carol herself releases you from it. It was a devastating penalty, essentially making the Iron Pack subordinate to the Northern Pack for decades. But it was better than execution.

 “Do you accept these terms?” Rowan asked. Donovan looked at Darius, at his council, at the pack that depended on his leadership. His jaw worked, pride waring with practicality. “Finally, he bowed his head. “We accept. Then we’re done here,” Rowan said. He shifted to his wolf form, as did the rest of the northern delegation.

 Carol shifted last, her white wolf form blazing in the afternoon sun, and had one final thought for the pack that raised her. I hope you learn to be better. Not for me. I don’t need you to be better for me anymore, but for the next wolfless pup who’s born here, for the next kid who doesn’t fit your definition of perfect. Be better for them.

 Then she turned and walked away, the northern pack at her side, and didn’t look back. Behind her, Elena sobbed. Lissa watched her sister disappear into the forest, tears streaming, and Garrett slumped against a wall. The weight of his lies finally crushing him. The Iron Pack had learned a terrible lesson that day. Sometimes the ones you throw away become the ones you need most.

 And by then, it’s too late to ask them to stay. Chapter 10. Home. Three months later, Carol stood on the balcony of her quarters in the Northern Pack, watching the first snow of winter dust the mountains with white. So much had changed since that day at the Iron Pack.

 The Northern Territory had fully recovered from the Devour attack, stronger and more unified than before. The 17 wolves who died were honored with a permanent memorial. A stone circle on the mountain peak where Carol had faced the first devourer. Their names carved in granite that would stand for centuries.

 Carol visited it every morning, speaking to them as if they could hear. Thanking them, promising that their sacrifice hadn’t been wasted. They can hear you, her wolf insisted. The moon goddess doesn’t let warrior spirits fade. They’re still watching, still protecting. Carol hoped that was true. Training with Mora had continued, but it felt different now.

 Less desperate survival preparation and more refinement of existing skills. Carol could shift in seconds, channel her light with surgical precision, sense corruption from miles away, and even perform minor healing on injured wolves. She discovered other Luna gifts, too. The ability to walk in dreams, to communicate across vast distances through moonlight, to sense when packs she’d connected with were in danger.

 The northern pack had expanded their protective territory, absorbing two smaller packs whose alphas had requested the Luna Wolf’s protection. Carol didn’t love the title Luna Wolf, Devour’s Bane, the White Guardian. But she’d learned to accept them. They weren’t really about her. They were about what she represented. Hope that darkness could be defeated. That suffering could transform into strength.

 That even the broken could become whole. Deep thoughts. Rowan’s voice came from behind her. Carol smiled without turning. She’d learned to recognize his energy signature anywhere steady, warm, like a hearthfire on a cold night, just thinking about how strange life is, she said. Four months ago, I was the most pathetic wolf in existence.

 Now I’m co-leading a pack of 300 and training new Luna Wolf candidates. That had been an unexpected development. Mora had discovered through her research that Luna Wolf abilities could be taught to wolves with the right spiritual aptitude, not to the same degree as a true Luna Wolf, but enough to create a new generation of protectors.

 Six wolves, including Sarah, were now training in the basics. Carol taught them every afternoon, sharing everything she’d learned about light, forgiveness, and transforming darkness rather than destroying it. “You were never pathetic,” Rowan said, coming to stand beside her. You were exactly what you needed to be to become who you are. Philosophical today, Carol teased.

 I have my moments. He was quiet for a beat. Then there’s news. A messenger arrived from the western territories. They’ve had reports of something stirring in the deep forests. Not devourers, but something else, something old. They’re requesting the Luna Wolf’s assistance. Carol felt the familiar pull duty purpose, the understanding that her job was never truly done.

 There would always be another threat, another darkness that needed light. Once that knowledge would have felt like a burden. Now it felt like meaning. When do we leave? She asked. We Rowan raised an eyebrow. You think I’m going alone after last time? Besides, you said it yourself. We’re partners in this co-leaders. That means we face threats together.

 Something shifted in Rowan’s expression. a warmth that made Carol’s pulse quicken in ways that had nothing to do with danger or duty. “There’s something I need to tell you,” he said carefully. “Something I’ve been holding back because the timing never felt right.” Carols heart hammered.

 “What?” “When the moon goddess showed me the vision 3 years ago, the prophecy about the Luna Wolf, she showed me something else. She showed me that the Luna Wolf would be my mate, that we’d lead together, fight together, build something together that would reshape Wolfkind.” The words hung in the cold air. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to pressure you, Rowan continued quickly.

 You’d been through so much manipulation. So many people telling you who you should be. I wanted you to choose me if you chose me at all because you wanted to, not because some prophecy said you should. Carol’s mind raced. Mate bonds were sacred in wolf culture, chosen by the moon goddess herself.

 They were rare, powerful, and supposedly undeniable once both parties acknowledged them. She’d felt drawn to Rowan from the beginning, his steady presence, his unwavering support, the way he saw her rather than just her power. She’d assumed it was gratitude or friendship or simple attraction. But mate, bond. Listen to your heart, her wolf urged.

 What do you feel when you’re with him? Safe, Carol realized, seen, valued, challenged in good ways. Like she could be vulnerable without being weak, powerful without being feared. human without being insufficient. The prophecy said we’d be mates,” Carol said slowly. “But did it say we had to accept it?” “No,” Rowan replied honestly.

 “Prophecies show possibilities, not certainties. The moon goddess gives us choices always.” “Then I choose,” Carol said, turning to face him fully. Not because of prophecy or duty or what the moon goddess wants. I choose you because when the world was ending, you carried me. Because you saw past the broken girl to the warrior underneath.

 Because you’ve never once asked me to be anything other than exactly who I am. She took his hand, feeling the familiar spark of connection, not just physical, but spiritual. The bond that had been there all along, waiting for them to acknowledge it. I choose you, Rowan Blackthornne, as partner, as alpha, as mate, if you’ll have me. His response was to pull her close and kiss her gentle at first, then deeper.

 Urgent, with months of restrained emotion, finally released. Carol felt the mate bond snap into place like a lock, finding its key. And suddenly, his emotions were hers, and hers were his. A feedback loop of belonging that was terrifying and exhilarating in equal measure. This is what it’s supposed to feel like, she thought, amazed. This is what I was missing all those years.

 When they finally broke apart, both breathing hard, Rowan rested his forehead against hers. “I will love you for whatever time we have,” he promised. “Whether that’s 40 years or four, every moment with you is a gift I never expected to receive. Luna wolves burn bright and die young,” Carol quoted Moa’s warning from months ago.

 “But I’m not planning to die anytime soon. Too much work to do. Then well do it together,” Rowan said firmly. The spring celebration was in full swing in the northern territory. Wolves from three allied packs gathered to honor the Luna wolf and her alpha mate. Carol stood in the center of the festivities, surrounded by wolves who’d become family.

 Sarah, now developing her own light manipulation abilities. Finn and Dax, who’d appointed themselves her personal guard despite her protests. River and Ash, who’d helped her design new training protocols. Mora, who’d become something like the grandmother Carol never had, and Rowan, always Rowan, at her side.

 They’d made it officially two months ago in a ceremony that drew alphas from across the continent. The Northern Pack had never been more powerful, more united, more hopeful about the future. But Carol’s favorite moments weren’t the grand ceremonies or the diplomatic victories. They were the quiet ones. Mornings training with Sarah, evenings running through the forest with Rowan, nights sitting with Mora discussing ancient texts and philosophical questions. She’d built a life she’d never imagined possible.

 Found a home not in a place, but in the connection she’d forged with wolves who chose to see her worth. Speech, speech, Sarah called out, and the crowd took up the chant. Carol laughed, shifting to human form. You all know I hate speeches. Then make it short, Rowan suggested, his eyes dancing with amusement.

 Carol looked around at all these faces, wolves who’d fought beside her, bled with her, trusted her with their lives and families. “Four months ago, I was sentenced to die for being different,” she began, her voice carrying across the clearing. “Today, I’m celebrated for being exactly what I always, just finally powerful enough that people had to acknowledge it.” She paused, choosing her words carefully.

I’ve learned that strength isn’t about physical power. It’s about surviving when survival seems impossible. It’s about choosing kindness when cruelty would be easier. It’s about transforming the darkness inside you into something that lights the way for others.

 She looked at the young wolves training to be Luna Guardians, at the children playing without fear, at the families rebuilt after tragedy. We’ve faced darkness and won. We’ll face it again because that’s what living means. Constant battle between light and shadow. But we face it together. We protect each other. We refuse to let suffering make us cruel or pain make us bitter. Her voice strengthened.

 We are the northern pack. We welcomed the rejected, empowered the powerless and proved that the moon goddess’s greatest gifts often come wrapped in our greatest trials. So when darkness comes again, and it will, we’ll meet it the same way we always have, with light, with unity, and with the absolute certainty that we’re exactly where we’re meant to be.

 The pack erupted in howls of agreement, voices harmonizing in a song that carried across the mountains and valleys, announcing to anyone listening that the Luna Wolf had found her home. Carol knelt before the memorial stone circle, placing fresh flowers at the base of each name. 17 wolves who died protecting her. protecting the pack, protecting the future. We won again, she told them quietly.

 The thing in the western territories turned out to be a corrupted alpha who’d been experimenting with dark magic. We stopped him before he could create new devourers. Saved three packs in the process. She paused, feeling the wind carry her words skyward. I wish you could have seen it. The network were building packs working together instead of in isolation. Luna guardians spread across territories.

Early warning systems that detect corruption before it spreads. We’re creating something that might actually last. They can see. Her wolf assured her. They know. And they’re proud. Footsteps behind her. Rowan joined her at the memorial, slipping his hand into hers. Ready? He asked. Carol nodded, standing. They had another delegation arriving this afternoon.

 wolves from the southern territories requesting training, requesting protection, requesting the hope that the Luna Wolf represented. She would give it to them, would keep giving it for as long as she drew breath. Because that’s what Luna wolves did. They took the darkness the world gave them and transformed it into light for others to navigate by.

 She’d been broken, rejected, nearly destroyed by the very wolves who should have protected her. But she’d survived, awakened, become something the world desperately needed. And in doing so, she discovered the most powerful truth of all. The moon goddess didn’t make mistakes. She made weapons. And sometimes those weapons looked like broken girls who refused to stay broken.

Carol took one last look at the memorial, then turned toward the pack house, toward the life she’d built, toward the future she was creating one choice at a time. Let them come, she thought, feeling her mate’s warmth beside her, her wolf’s strength within her, her packs faith at her back.

 Whatever darkness the world throws at us were ready. Behind her, if she’d looked, she might have seen 17 glowing figures standing among the memorial stones wolves who’d given their lives so others could live, watching over the Luna wolf who’d made their sacrifice mean something. But Carol didn’t look back. She looked forward, always forward toward the