Reign of the Forsaken Moon - Chapter 10: Chapter 10

The gates of Ashfang were still shrouded in dawn mist when the stranger arrived.
His cloak was travel-worn, stained with ash and rain. He bore no crest, no banner. Just a worn leather satchel and a blade strapped across his back that hummed with ancient energy.
Seraphina was already waiting at the gates, flanked by Darian and two elite guards. Her instincts had awakened her long before the scouts announced the visitor’s approach.
There was something about him.
He bowed low when he saw her—lower than any Alpha ever bowed.
“Twice-Born Luna,” he said, his voice like thunder wrapped in velvet. “I’ve walked many miles under your moonlight.”
“Name yourself,” Seraphina ordered. Her eyes narrowed, fingers brushing the hilt of her blade.
The stranger looked up.
“My name is Auron Valek. Son of the exiled Alpha of the Crimson Vale. And your cousin by blood.”
Silence.
A breeze whispered through the clearing, rustling the trees like curious spirits.
Seraphina’s face didn’t move. But inside, the name hit her like a stone to the chest.
The Crimson Vale was a forgotten territory—banished from the northern alliances decades ago after they refused to kneel to the High Council. Her mother had once whispered of it in stories long buried beneath time and loss.
“You lie,” Darian growled, stepping forward.
Auron didn’t flinch. Instead, he reached into his satchel and pulled free a scroll—sealed with the Moonclaw sigil, but one older than any Seraphina had seen.
She took it.
Unrolling it slowly, she saw the mark of her grandmother—Kaelith the First Moon, who had died long before Seraphina was born.
It read:
> “To the blood of my blood: If darkness consumes Moonclaw, find the bearer of this seal. They are kin. They will be the flame that survives the ash.”
Seraphina’s breath hitched.
The seal pulsed faintly in her hand.
Inside the council chamber, tensions rose.
“I still don’t trust him,” Darian muttered as the others filed out. “This could be a trick. Thorne could’ve forged the seal.”
“Thorne burns things,” Seraphina said calmly. “He doesn’t preserve legacies.”
She turned to Auron, who stood at a respectful distance, his golden eyes watching her with a strange mix of awe and sorrow.
“Why come now?” she asked. “Why wait until I’m already fighting a war?”
Auron bowed his head. “Because only now has the moon turned its face toward vengeance. I was raised in hiding—my father fled the High Council after refusing to betray your family. We’ve watched from the shadows. But when I felt your resurrection—when I saw the blood moon rise—I knew it was time.”
He looked up. “I’ve trained for this my entire life. My blade, my wolves, my oath—they’re yours.”
Darian didn’t like it. Seraphina knew that. But the truth weighed more than caution.
“Then prove it,” she said. “Lead a mission. There’s an outpost near Hollowfen overrun with Thorne’s Black Fangs. Take it back.”
Auron smiled. “As you command, Luna.”
Days Later – The Hollowfen Raid
The wind howled through the trees like a thousand voices.
Auron crouched behind a fallen log, his team of Crimson-born wolves surrounding him—silent, precise, and lethal.
He’d trained them for war under moonlight and shadow.
They struck the Black Fangs like a blade through soft earth—quick, strategic, merciless. Within minutes, the outpost fell.
But it was what they found inside that chilled them.
A pit.
A deep, unnatural hole beneath the outpost filled with bones. And in its center, a black stone altar pulsing with dark energy.
Carved into the wall above it were the words:
> “THE DEVOURER HUNGERS.”
When word reached Seraphina, she felt her stomach knot.
“They’re raising something,” she said, her voice low.
Darian nodded. “Thorne isn’t just trying to kill you. He’s trying to replace you—with something worse.”
Seraphina looked out over her growing camp. Wolves trained in the clearing. Children laughed under watch. The banners of Moonclaw and Ashfang now flew side by side.
She had a kingdom again.
And she would not lose it.
That night, Auron returned, wounded but alive.
As Mira tended to him, Seraphina stepped into the healing chamber.
“You did well,” she said softly. “Too well for someone who's never seen battle.”
He looked up at her, sweat on his brow. “I trained for you, Seraphina. My father believed you’d return. That prophecy always favored the fallen moon.”
She watched him for a long moment.
He was kin. A blood brother of sorts. But something else burned in his eyes—something deeper than loyalty.
He rose, wincing. “If you’ll have me, I’ll stand at your right in the final war.”
She stepped closer, hand on
his arm. “Then you’d better be ready to face the darkness with me.”
“I already have,” he whispered. “You just didn’t see it.”